Poetry and the Illiad...

TO DOWNLOAD THE .ZIP FILE PLEASE CLICK HERE

OR


GO TO THIS LINK:
http://rapidshare.com/files/94559729/STUDY.zip.html

( Copy this link in blue and paste it in the address bar of your internet explorer )

All of the powerpoint presentation in a microsoft powerpoint file.
For the Poetry subject ( Introduction to poetry ) given to us by miss Muna Khattab.

The Illiad. The Greek Epic written by Homer.
We're studying it for the subject of ( Western Civilisation ) given to us by dr. Wessam El Meligi this semester isA.



&



A few other Books you may enjoy :)

How to unzip a file?


1- Make sure you have a program called Winzip or Winrar
- if not, download it from here: www.download.com



2- Double-click on the file and choose "Extract to" from the icons above.



3- Choose the place you want to save it in and then press "Ok"



4- Open the folder you chose and you will find everything in there:
A Folder Named STUDY>> inside it there is the poetry presentation and a folder with all the books I have on my pc :)

==================================================


How to download from Rapidshare?

Rapidshare is the easiest way to download and upload files from the internet with no trouble at all :)

Here are the steps:

1- Click on the link above.

2- Scroll down the page, you will find a table.
In the second column, Click on the "free" button.

3- A new page will open that will tell you to wait a few minutes.
Then another page will open with too many options on how to download.

4- Choose any type of download.

5- And under that, there's a Code. Enter this code you see in large font and click on " Download via Cognet " ( or via something else, depends on your choice. But it doesn't matter. )

6- A small window will appear asking where you want the file to be put.
Choose where you want to download the file and click "Ok"

PhotoReading

PhotoReading is a commercial learning product of Learning Stategies Corporation. The corporation sells Photoreading seminars and home courses that claim to allow people to photoread, a term coined for a step in which one subconsciously intakes information. By that claim, the reader's speed of absorbing words is directly dependent on the amount of information on each page and by page-flipping rate.
Alex K. Viefhaus and others on the Learning Strategies Forum have stated that reading and Photoreading are two different things; traditional reading actively intakes information through the conscious mind while photoreading passively utilizes peripheral vision through the other-than-conscious mind.
The distinguishing feature of PhotoReading is that the readers allow the unconscious mind to rapidly absorb material and then logically or consciously recapture the information they photoread through multiple perusals, as opposed to conventional reading or speed reading, which relies solely on the conscious mind to sort information through one passing conscious mind.

That was what wikipedia said about photoreading... it's an advanced way of reading by trainig your mind and eye to retrive a pice of information or a word you read un-consciously in a dictionary or a book or something.
Photoreading is based on some concepts that helps in reading fast anyway... here is some :)

-Books are 10% content, 90% fluff.
-Visual memory is superior to auditory memory, so use both instead of only reading to one's self
-The Visual memory retains information better than the auditory memory—think of your home; an image will pop up.
-Readers are taught to read and understand material rather than reading the information given and allowing their own insights or ideas of a subject to come forth.
-Humans learn unconsciously first, then consciously, then unconsciously again.
1)Unconscious Incompetence (No idea what is going on)
2)Conscious Incompetence (One knows he or she does not know what is going on)
3)Conscious Competence (One knows what to do)
4)Unconscious Competence (One does things automatically with little to no thought)
-Learning, understanding, remembering and creating are done within a relaxed state, not in stressed states.
-A purpose for reading any given book must be given or the mind will not process efficiently.
-Comprehension is a 4-step process:
1)Awareness of material (First encounter)
2)Familiarity with material (Generalized idea)
3)Knowledge of material (Detailed recollection)
4)Expertise of material (Application or mastery of subject)
-People are taught to read with their left logical minds, neglecting the Right Creative mind.
-Speed reading must be honed and practiced even after mastery or the skill loses effectiveness.
-Strategies never lose their effectiveness because they are not a skill; rather, they offer a different view point.
-Traditional reading unfortunately stresses gaining multiple learnings in one front-to-back reading of a book.

The article I promised to post :D "Miss Lina the student"

Hey all :)

Remember when we were commenting on Malookiz post about photography, I told you that this particular post reminded me of an essay I once wrote for my teacher (back then when I used to be a student). The title of the essay was: "what gives me pleasure." Each student was free to choose whatever they like most and write about it. So, here it is finally! I'll also try to post some of my amateur shots! :)

here it goes:

What Gives me Pleasure.

Photography, according to me, is more than just pointing the camera, shooting, and waiting for the result to come out. In actuality, it is far beyond that, at least from my own point of view. I like to take photographs for many reasons ranging from personal, sentimental motivations to practical concerns. In general, photography keeps me busy in a creative way; it helps me train my senses artistically, and it somehow forces me to have a better look at the world.

I believe that photographers have an artistic feeling or mood to regard things in a different way. As they use their cameras, they see the world with new eyes; they all see it through the lens differently. In that way, sharing pictures allows us as human beings to connect as we share our different views through the images we create by our cameras.

The pleasure of walking, speculating, and noticing suddenly something special stops me to capture that special scene with my camera, steal it, and give it to myself to share it with others. Small details of nature that we, unfortunately, ignore and do not pay much attention to, very much attract my artistic use of the camera. I adore this feeling of communicating with nature and being part of it, and I reflect that by trying to create beauty out of beauty. This, I describe, is a sense of communication with nature itself. By that I am de-familiarizing the familiar and making an extraordinary beautiful picture out of the ordinary beauty of nature. After all, it is a good feeling to take the beauties of nature back home which will be available for me anytime to enjoy. Looking at the picture; at this particular snapshot, gives me wings to fly back in a moment to the place and time where I took the picture. It is an amazing feeling to be able to live one moment more than once. True, it is not the real moment, but it is a memorable shadow of it that temporarily satisfies our momentarily desire to go back in time.

Not only am I concerned with picturing nature, but also people, and in doing this I follow two different ways. The first way is to immortalize involuntarily movements and actions of all the people I know. To try to create an emotion that is so natural into the picture. It needs a lot of directing. In these kinds of pictures I giving eternity to a special feeling; I am expressing the essence of a person, a relationship, or an event. The result forces me to smile, laugh, get sad, or it may even brings tears to my eyes, yet, it grants me a wish-come-true which is to live the event again, to keep the memory for the longest time as possible. More interestingly, these pictures allow me to meet those people I lost and miss in my life, in a dreamy, re-winded moment. It is like a zoomed-in, detailed, noiseless flashback full of feelings and emotions. The second way of which I take photos of people is very interesting indeed goes under the term photo-shoots, which also involves a lot of directing as well as acting. This kind of photography enables me to paint a picture full of colors and expressions. I use a lot of objects to set the background, I focus on the facial expression, and the clothes of the person of whom I am taking a photograph. I also spend time to find the best angle where I will shoot the picture, and I play a lot with lights. In the end, I create a mute person that speaks loudly through the power of his/her eye expression, the amazing match of the colors and the background setting.

Technology has changed in how we take pictures as new cameras are invented everyday, but what makes a photograph interesting is not really changed; a photograph which delivers an intense feeling or emotion to the viewer is what really remains unchangeable; constant. So with all these changes, what stays the same? A picture frozen in time, may be?

P.S

* I was inspired by some books and articles I read about photography

*The blog is not helping me to use "indentation" LOL

*I guess I had a lot of mistakes (not this is the original essay, with no editing at all (A)) hmmm.

why not?

why should my best friend be a girl?why should'nt him be a boy?why should any girl and boy stands togreather be lovers? why should'nt they be friends?actually i have a friend and i concedred him my best friend the only problem i face that he is a boy...... actually it 's not a problem for both of us cause we feel comfortable togreathe we can understand each other and we also have a very similar charactires ,but it's a problem for the people around us they always think that we r lovers i really love him but as my brother and he also love me as his sister and we dont't care about people but the most thing that make us unhappy that the people still have the same way of tinking that would never change that they can't think that a couple of boy and a girl as friends could be very good in comparing with a couple of two girls and they will never know that there is feeling could be between a girl and a boy but not love it is some thing higher than that it's friendshipe ............

WIERD! 0.0 lool =)

Try to read out loud the Color not the Word

Yellow Red Green

Red Blue Black

Yellow Black Red

Blue Blue Green

Green Black Yellow


Haha... now have fun! ;)

GOOD LUCK

“May good luck be your friend in whatever you do and may trouble be always a stranger to you.”

GOOD LUCK

THAT is why I LOVE Photography!!

Ya gama3a I've recently come to believe that if you have the right cam & the right artistic taste, 5alas, it's like you own the ideal ingredients for an artist!
Ra2ii el sha7'sy howa enn a7san tari2a le el ta2ammol fe 7'alq Allah is Photography; it's simply free from our human imperfections!

Kefaya ana ra3'aya awi eih dah! :P Allah yekoon fe 3onko :P :P
ENJOY!

[[Most of these were taken by flickr.com artists, please respect their rights! :) ]]

These are only SOME of what I've really enjoyed :)

satisfaction

Are u satisfy about your self ? your behavior?are u feel comfortable about your way in speaking ,moving,laughing ......etc?actully i asked my self these questions and the answer was "NO" .

I AM NOY SATISFY ABOUT MY SELF cause sometime i fell that iam acting . for example :i feel comfortable when i laugh with loude voice and my laughing voice like hicc-up its look strang but i like it but when i laugh like that my parents and also my friends say dont laugh like that you are not a child so i feel that i must watch out every action i do and that mke me look like blastk barbi

some time i feel i want to be very simple and do what i what i want to do but sometime i think that they are right i shouldnt do every thing i want without thinking because iam not living a lone and because i am a girl so i feel puzzeled should i do what i want to do even it looked unfamiliar or what the other people want me to do because it seems to be right? ya ret 7d y3brny w y3l2

STUDY

Ya gama3a most of you lessa ma3andohoomsh el mo7adrat kamla. El moshkela ennohom 7attoha for like an hour 3al website we ba3deen shalooha tany!!!

El mohem some of us got lucky & we now have most of el
mo7adrat el7amdolellah. I made you a zip file we uploaded it on Rapidshare. To download it, Click Here.

And if it's not working, plz let me know 3ashan it's my first time :P Hehehe

Yalla goodluck!!

The Story of an Hour, by Kate Chopin.

This is a special request for Mohammad Hossam :D I promised to send it to him by email, but i thought why not post it here so you all can read it,if you're interested. The Story of an Hour is one of the shortest shortstories, it's an easy,quick read. ENJOY!

Waiting for ur attmpts to analyze! :)

here it begins:

Knowing that Mrs. Mallard was afflicted with a heart trouble, great care was taken to break to her as gently as possible the news of her husband's death.
It was her sister Josephine who told her, in broken sentences; veiled hints that revealed in half concealing. Her husband's friend Richards was there, too, near her. It was he who had been in the newspaper office when intelligence of the railroad disaster was received, with Brently Mallard's name leading the list of "killed." He had only taken the time to assure himself of its truth by a second telegram, and had hastened to forestall any less careful, less tender friend in bearing the sad message.

She did not hear the story as many women have heard the same, with a paralyzed inability to accept its significance. She wept at once, with sudden, wild abandonment, in her sister's arms. When the storm of grief had spent itself she went away to her room alone. She would have no one follow her.

There stood, facing the open window, a comfortable, roomy armchair. Into this she sank, pressed down by a physical exhaustion that haunted her body and seemed to reach into her soul.

She could see in the open square before her house the tops of trees that were all aquiver with the new spring life. The delicious breath of rain was in the air. In the street below a peddler was crying his wares. The notes of a distant song which some one was singing reached her faintly, and countless sparrows were twittering in the eaves.

There were patches of blue sky showing here and there through the clouds that had met and piled one above the other in the west facing her window.

She sat with her head thrown back upon the cushion of the chair, quite motionless, except when a sob came up into her throat and shook her, as a child who has cried itself to sleep continues to sob in its dreams.

She was young, with a fair, calm face, whose lines bespoke repression and even a certain strength. But now there was a dull stare in her eyes, whose gaze was fixed away off yonder on one of those patches of blue sky. It was not a glance of reflection, but rather indicated a suspension of intelligent thought.

There was something coming to her and she was waiting for it, fearfully. What was it? She did not know; it was too subtle and elusive to name. But she felt it, creeping out of the sky, reaching toward her through the sounds, the scents, the color that filled the air.

Now her bosom rose and fell tumultuously. She was beginning to recognize this thing that was approaching to possess her, and she was striving to beat it back with her will--as powerless as her two white slender hands would have been. When she abandoned herself a little whispered word escaped her slightly parted lips. She said it over and over under hte breath: "free, free, free!" The vacant stare and the look of terror that had followed it went from her eyes. They stayed keen and bright. Her pulses beat fast, and the coursing blood warmed and relaxed every inch of her body.

She did not stop to ask if it were or were not a monstrous joy that held her. A clear and exalted perception enabled her to dismiss the suggestion as trivial. She knew that she would weep again when she saw the kind, tender hands folded in death; the face that had never looked save with love upon her, fixed and gray and dead. But she saw beyond that bitter moment a long procession of years to come that owuld belong to her absolutely. And she opened and spread her arms out to them in welcome.

There would be no one to live for during those coming years; she would live for herself. There would be no powerful will bending hers in that blind persistence with which men and women believe they ahve a right to impose a private will upon a fellow-creature. A kind intention or a cruel intention made the act seem no less a crime as she looked upon it in that brief moment of illumination.

And yet she had loved him--sometimes. Often she had not. What did it matter! What could love, the unsolved mystery, count for in the face of this possession of self-assertion which she suddenly recognized as the strongest impulse of her being!

"Free! Body and soul free!" she kept whispering.

Josephine was kneeling before the closed door with her lips to the keyhold, imploring for admission. "Louise, open the door! I beg; open the door--you will make yourself ill. What are you doing, Louise? For heaven's sake open the door."

"Go away. I am not making myself ill." No; she was drinking in a very elixir of life through that open window.

Her fancy was running riot along those days ahead of her. Spring days, and summer days, and all sorts of days that would be her own. She breathed a quick prayer that life might be long. It was only yesterday she had thought with a shudder that life might be long.

She arose at length and opened the door to her sister's importunities. There was a feverish triumph in her eyes, and she carried herself unwittingly like a goddess of Victory. She clasped her sister's waist, and together they descended the stairs. Richards stood waiting for them at the bottom.

Some one was opening the front door with a latchkey. It was Brently Mallard who entered, a little travel-stained, composedly carrying his grip-sack and umbrella. He had been far from the scene of the accident, and did not even know there had been one. He stood amazed at Josephine's piercing cry; at Richards' quick motion to screen him from the view of his wife.

When the doctors came they said she had died of heart disease--of the joy that kills.


THE END! :)

a story.

hi,it's me again..I'd like you to know,whoever you are reading this blog,that if you have lost someone really special..I share your feelings.I know what you are going through and I know the stages of acceptance...and one of the stages is sharing your emotions with others ..try it.It's really helpful.
I lost one of my best friends a few years ago and I have come to accept the fact that he's dead but still his soul lingers here..and in this poem I hope you would understand me more and feel my love for him because he was like a brother to me...this is for you khaled...

after you are gone
things will never be the same
you left me all alone
so lost in this hard game

I wandered all alone
remembering the way you smile
I know I'll be missing you
and thinking if my life's worthwhile

I know I'll be missing you
but your work's already done
I'm not so sad about it,though
the way God's taken you,you're gone

only tears were the result
without you infront of my eyes
I felt so damn frustrated
and drifted away towards the skies

I know now you're in a better place
far and away from this tiring chase

I wished you took me with you
so that we'd live up our dreams
I know what you would say,though
"nothing's as easy as it seems"

you were definetely an angel
I never had a doubt
take care of yourself
and don't worry about me
cause I know your heart still lingers here
and I know my heart will be with you..

A poem...

Hi,this is one of my few personal poems that I'd like to share with you..I am not used to this kind of exposure but here goes..

Earth..
I am the sun,I am the sea
I am the earth,I am a tree

I am the shadow,I am the light
I am the morning and the night

I am the ground beneath your feet
holding you high so you wouldn't fall
and the sun radiating heat
and all the trees so tall

I am the water in the sea
nurturing fish inside of me
I am the rain,I fall to taste the air
I suddenly regret,there's no way to compare
the peace and solitude up there
the peace and serenity within me

I am the sun,I shine and glare
I never bat my eyes,I only stare
falling asleep is not a choice
I serve mankind,I have no voice

I am a wild flower by the side of the road
they step on me with such heavy load
they pick me up and kill me
they bully me,I am not free

I guess you know who I am
mother nature is my name
you destroy me with your own hands
while you know without me it won't be the same

I don't know why you are called mankind
it's just controversy
you are a man,that we do know
but you are far from being kind
you are nothing but blind

like a bat,only without wings
fly away and let me be
I want to live,can't you see?
leave me alone,don't bully me
let me be,let me be,let me be

this is a contribution to help save the world and save mother nature from destruction...I am a friend of nature and I'm proud of it..

EssayMANIA?!

To distract your attention off MY last post (despair), which, obviously no one is interested enough to comment on lol, I have yet another completely random, demented idea.. you judge! :D

So here's the thing:

I've realised that -el7amdulillah- most of us have GREAT potential and alot to express and talk about but the problem mainly lies in the stage of "expressing" itself.

Our English could be -in most cases- not enough to express what we feel or really want to say. But that's what we're here in this very faculty for, isn't it? To be able to use the English language professionally isA.

One teacher (esmaha miss Lina, 7ad ye3rafha? :P ) once told us, echoing the words of a great leader of blue and yellow, " To get better at your English, you have to Just keep writing writing writing!"
So this is it! We simply have to keep on writing!!

So what's new about this "revelation" (lol) is that I'm suggesting a WHOLE WALL of essays !!! We could start a new blog just for essays or make it a "hangable" wall at college, whatever you'd vote for..

Why not a normal wall?

Because normal walls have always included short columns and usually have a short and not literary or, I don't know, artistically woven.
But essays, I think, are a better practice for our English. And since we have our two very helpful and sweet teachers available isA, we can ask them to help us correct our mistakes and keep this project on the right track! ^_^

One last reason for suggesting this is that I, personally, don't enjoy columns as much as I enjoy essays. They usually have a very interesting approach to the subject and are a great way to get some insight into someone's personality and way of thinking.


Wrapping it up:

>> Suggestion: An electronic (blog) or written Essays and short-stories wall.

>> What I'm asking for:

a. Our teachers' suggestions and any notes.

b. YOUR VOTES!!!
( Vote by commenting on this post and don't forget to mention your opinion and whether you're for or against this idea! :D )

Tounge Twisters

Since I GUESS you all liked the "tongue twisters game" today, I decided to post you sme here to enjoy!

Mr. See owned a saw.
And Mr. Soar owned a seesaw.
Now, See's saw sawed Soar's seesaw
Before Soar saw See,
Which made Soar sore.
Had Soar seen See's saw
Before See sawed Soar's seesaw,
See's saw would not have sawed
Soar's seesaw.
So See's saw sawed Soar's seesaw.
But it was sad to see Soar so sore
just because See's saw sawed
Soar's seesaw.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
A big black bear bit a big black bug
and the big black bug bled black blood.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck would chuck wood? :P
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

I thought a thought
But the thought I thought
Was not the thought
I thought I thought.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
A tree toad loved a she-toad
Who lived up in a tree.
He was a two-toed tree toad
But a three-toed toad was she.
The two-toed tree toad tried to win
The three-toed she-toad's heart,
For the two-toed tree toad loved the ground
That the three-toed tree toad trod.
But the two-toed tree toad tried in vain.
He couldn't please her whim.
From her tree toad bower
With her three-toed power
The she-toad vetoed him.
------------------------------------------------------------

ENJOY!

Group A) Listening and Conversation.

SA everyone,
I could only gather some of us to discuss the script of our "mini-play" hehe.
So PLEASE write a draft of what you'll probably have to say before tomorrow so if we have just a 10 minute break or something before the lesson, we could prepare it well.

Shall we revise the sequence of events besor3a?

-The Narrator (me) mentions briefly that there was crime where mr. Gregory was convicted.

- The Judge ( 3abdul Ra7man) announces that the court is now in session and informs mr. Gregory of his conviction. Then asks miss Persis Remenant's lawyer if there's anything he'd like to add.

- Persis' lawyer ( Attourney A ) will question THE MAID (BERTHA), THE POSTMAN, MISS PERSIS HERSELF & probably mr. Gregory ( It think this should be an interesting idea! worth a try :)

- I have no idea what should happen next!! lol
PLEASE be co-operative about this! :S

Despair

It's really hard to expect someone's reaction to something really dear to one's soul..
So although I'm REAAALLY glad that you liked Lake Placid, I'm kind of nervous about everyone's reaction to this one {Despair }

First of all, it may appear that I'm talking about someone or a certain incident in particular in this poem, but I'm simply pouring out my feelings, or representing them in a symbolical manner.
The point is, I don't really read poetry much and I have only a slight idea about how poets express themselves. But for the first time in my life when I was really depressed, the first thing I did was write, just write.
That's this poem, I started it in a lesson at school and finished it before I went home.
It just had to come out :D lol

So I hope you like it!!

Sorry I went on and on like that :P

I gave up hope for you to come

I headed for home sobbing

A tear dropped on the floor,

BANGING in the silence of my own thoughts

I could hear no one

See no one

Only the voice of my dying wishes

What I couldn't and never will tell you

You never came…. You never will..

Another bang and another whisper "Happy

Anniversary….. NO MORE!"

...

I can see through my heart no more..

It's suddenly so dark inside me, hollow.

A dark, endless cave of unknown

Where only echoes of thoughts and

dead wishes could be heard.

My wishes haunt me eversince: " Happy…

Happy anniversary….Happy anniversary no more!

...

I stopped. Silence froze the place

As the echoes of my footsteps died away..

I stopped to collect my ashes off the floor

I might live no more…. No!

I left them on the floor

I don't want to live anymore!

I lay beside them on the black ice.

Me & my ashes left to freeze on the side walk..

...

I don't know how long I spent there on the freezing floor

In pain.. and numb

Sober… and fast asleep

But I suddenly hear voices.. sounds…. Noise

What's going on?

Oh yes, I can hear people around me now

I can see them too, walking around me

And stepping on me!

I'm invisible.

...

I faught the pain and rose, heading for that tempting corner behind the wall

Where I can see the world but the world can't see me

I still can't feel invisible enough..

...

I stood there watching.

I saw children laughing and playing.

Happy.

They showed me some light. I tried to smile but I couldn't
Instead, I heard a great bang...
Everything went silent again...
No more people..
No more children..
No more light.
My warm tears kept digging their ways through my freezing face.
melting it bit by bit
bang! bang! bang!

...

I closed my eyes & dove inside me
looking for a beam of light
looking for a reason... for hope
It's so dark inside!
The bangs are louder now
And the whispers all around
loud and clear: NO MORE! NO MORE! NO MORE!!

...

I came to some place full of memories of you and me
all the nice times we spent together
Every nice word we said to each other
The bangs are too loud!!
I can't take it anymore!
Make them stop!
I'm scared.... I'm alone in the darkness of my own.
No company.. No light.. No—you

...

Hey! you came!!
It's not that dark afterall! You're here!!
What took you so long?
Why were you late?
What---
Oh,I see.......you're not real.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Wait! Come back! Don't leave me!
Don't leave me alone here! My dead wishes are still haunting me...
NO MORE! NO MORE! NO MORE!
They're frightening me! Come back! Please!—

...

I'm alone again.
Will you ever come back?!
I've never missed you like I do now.

...
Enough! I don't want to think anymore.
Enough suffering! Enough pain!
I'll climb out of the dark..
I'll climb into the real world..
I'll leave my heart behind..
I'll leave YOU behind!
Nothing shall hold me back
I shall continue and I shall succeed.

...

I climbed slowly on the thorns inside
I'm going out! I'm leaving all the pain behind
But you're not coming.
It's okay.. I can make it on my own.
Alone...
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The bangs are like thunder inside me..
Too loud! Too loud and too scary!!*

.....

Lake Placid

Thought I'd post one of my "proses" for a change!
Hope you like gloomy!! :D
Enjoy..

I heard a flake of snow crash on a little rock.
As the unbroken silence of that gloomy dawn prevailed..
Why did such a delicate being have to crash?!
Couldn't it just melt in peace?!!
A tear dropped again --this time not all the way down to Earth..
It stopped in the middle of my cheek,
Asif it needs more passion to drive it away!
I raised my hand and dismissed it;
I want no more sorrow lurking around!

Then raised my head to gaze upon the glassy lake
So shiny on the outside,
Yet God knows how dark it is inside!!
There must be true horrors in that dark!
Then again, it's probably all in my mind..
Because I know when things can look so placid,
Yet boiling and burning inside.
Shattering into tiny little pieces, mending then
Breaking all over again..
Pitch black darkness that seems like endless void.

All such darkness and pain would wear a lake down…
That it chooses to surrender..
That it chooses to breathe the poison in instead.
So the surface dies away peacefuly..
And pain, yet again, triumphs.
Till life in the lake becomes only a memory,
With a suffering bottom and a deceased surface.
A suface that can no longer but imitate..
For what's dead inside, can still be a miror on the outside.
One that reflects all the dead wishes of a lake once alive.
For if life gets fruitful around Lake Placid,
The reflection would console what's left inside.
So even though our lake is dead,
It can still be a miror to what's not…

agmad dof3a fel PUA kollaha!

Myspace Tickers at YourSpaceIsBest.com

What is the longest word in English language? :D

*ANTIDISESTABLISHMENTARIANISM * is the longest word in popular usage. It consists of 28 letters, and it refers to the movement opposed to the seperation of Church and State.

*PNEUMONOULTRAMICROSCOPICSILICOVOLCANOCONIOSIS * is the longest English word ever alive. However, its usuage is strictly medical or scientific. It is 45 letters long. It refers to a lung disease caused by breathing in certain particles. You can find the word in some English dictionaries, not all of them as some do not consider the word as part of the English language.

Eshta!! Yalla ya gama3a this is our latest addition..

Our OWN group on FaceBook!!!

The First group was deleted and this is the new one! :)

http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=6017296298

Anime Characters: MY HERO!!

Hey, first do u like that picture? what do u think of that man?? First i'll give you a brief introduction about him. His name is Kenshin Himura in Westren-Order. He is from Japan. Born in June 20 1849 (guess u figured that out, right? long intro but you have to take it to know what i'm talkin' about). Himura Kenshin, his birth name was Shinta. His peasent parentes died of cholera by the age of seven. However, he was sold as a slave but the slave-traders' carvan was attacked by bandis & killed all the men first. He wanted to fight but 3 girls stoped him & shielded him with thier bodies. The bandits killed them as they protected him. Hiko Seijūrō XIII intervened, killing all the thieves as they were about to kill Shinta. Hiko then leaves Shinta alone in the field of bodies, instructing him to seek shelter in a nearby village. A week later, Hiko returns to the village to check up on the boy, but is surprised to hear that he never arrived. Presuming that he has committed suicide, Hiko returns to the site of the slaughter, to find that Shinta has buried all the corpses by hand - even those of the thieves. Won over by the boy's strength at heart, he adopts Shinta into his Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu apprenticeship. He renamed him "Kenshin" (Ken=sword, Shin=heart), since he believed that 'Shinta' wasn't a fitting name for a swordsman.

That was his early life. After that he was a former manslayer of the Ishin Shishi, the Choshu faction, who fought at the beginning of the Meiji Restoration. He went by the name "Hitokiri Battousai" The title implies he has mastered the technique of Battojutsu (sword drawing technique, studied in modern times as Iaijutsu). After the Revolution, he picked up a reverse-blade sword,given to him by a master swordsmith and assumed the life of a "Rurouni" a wanderer. This were the series starts!

So how do u like it till now? he just a man with past full of sorrow & regret (like killing the one he loves, his wife!!, selling his soul & mastery to the side he thought it was the good one). These kind of accidents can kill a whole army not just one man!. But he carried on & devote his life to help people, and he realised that war is just a stupid act. Sword-mastrey is the art of killing. No one would like to learn it (nowdays it's shooting, fire-arms... etc).

But if we take a closer look on his personality. We will find that he is just a big child, so pure n inocent. So caring he don't even want to kill his enimies unless that's thier choice and ther is no other way but that... even though he uses a reversed blade (the cuting edge is from his side, the blunt side is out!) so in every fight he risks his own life to spare his opponent!

Refrence: Wikipedia. "Himura Kenshin" http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Himura_Kenshin. 19 October 2007, 11:11 PM

About Homework :P

Lying in our presentation homeworks :D



Stupefying creativity to make something new just for the hell of it :D




We men el a7'er keda, el este3bat fel wageb :D :D




Hahaha don't forget the "Writing" homework!! :P



.

The Little Teapot!! lol

5alas ya gama3a ana 3ereft what my cartoon character will be :D


THE TEAPOT!! Remember our childhood song??

I'm a little teapot

I'm a little teapot short and stout,

here's my handle, here's my spout.

When the tea is ready hear me shout,

tip me up, pour me out.

lol ana ba2a e5tart el teapot 3ashan kol elle ha2olo enno

short and stout we kaman sahl yetresem!!! :P

Just messing with you tab3an bass el mohem enjoy

this homework cz I think it could be a

hell of alot of fun!!! =)

Enjoy the weekend!

Your Homework! :D

I know it does not sound that interesting to remind you of your homework in my first post, but there's no other way dudes! :)

For Group B:

I forgot to tell you what you're supposed to be writing in the weekend (don't hate me!). Here is it:

Create you OWN cartoon character. Give it a name, draw it, color it, and DESCRIBE it in words. All i'm asking for is ONE paragraph.

See, nothing can be easier than that! :) ummm right?

P.S if any of you have any questions please don't hesitate to contact me, whether at college, or by email. Deal?! :D

Lina

3asal Eswed!!!!!!!!!!!!

One gloomy day in Boston 1919 A.D. >>>




The Boston Molasses Disaster (also known as the Great Molasses Flood or The Great Boston Molasses Tragedy) occurred on January 15, 1919, in the North End neighborhood of Boston, Massachusetts, United States. A large molasses (treacle) tank burst and a wave of molasses ran through the streets at an estimated 35 MPH (56 km/h), killing twenty-one and injuring 150 others. The event has entered local folklore, and residents claim that the area still sometimes smells of molasses.
WOW!! Did you it could ever happen?! One day and out of the blue your streets are all filled with "3asal Eswed" ?!!!!!

yalla full review here: http://encyclopedia.thefreedictionary.com/Boston+Molasses+Disaster


ayy 7'ed3a :P

IT Update

Hey you guys,

Did you check Our college"s website lately? They posted new updates in the IT section.

1. Lecture three ( last lecture in the IT Module ).
2. the Sheet we solved together in the section ( No homework asked for ).
3. A third sheet ( ma3rafsh 3anno 7aga lol ).

Anyway check them out, this is the link: http://www.pua.edu.eg/Version2/21LGEN1Schedule.html

See you all tomorrow! :)

[[ I'd like to welcome miss Lina Agameya, our English teacher, to our blog.. She's one of the authors now!! 3o2bal mateego kolloko ya Rab!!! lol ]]
And miss Muna's here too!!! 3o2bal el ba2y ya Rab! :D

How do I post to our blog?!

This has to be done in a special way,,
If you're not registered in the blog, you can only comment on posts but not post your own.. But in order to make this work we all have to be able to post.

To Become an administrator:
-------------------------------------

Please send me an email with your NAME (or nickname) and E-MAIL to this account: < swirlyivy@gmail.com > .
And I'll send you an invitation within a day isA :)

Enjoy your tiny vacation :)
__________________________________________________________________________

STEPS OF REGISTRATION:

1. Create a Gmail account.
2. Sign in with your gmail account.
3. POST!
   

I'm sorry, I know it does look like alot of work to do.. but it really ends before you know it :P :P