Observations

No clouds. All clouds are gone, like they've been blown away by a giant mouth. The sky looks like a huuuuge swimming pool.

What do you see?

Friends chatting; shattered shadow on picnic tables; tall buildings that look like butter bars.

What do you hear?

The sound of leaves crawling on the side walk; car engines; foot steps; car alarm, may be some one is trying to steal a car, should I care about that? Should I blow a whistle, or just remain silent?

What do you smell?

Fresh air ... Haaaaaaaaa

What are you touching/feeling with your fingers?

Rough, choppy, bumpy rocks; the very soft paper of my notebook; the skinny pen I'm holding.


Why is parking not for free? Why should we pay for parking our cars on campus?

Why do people have security alarms in their cars? Shouldn't the world be so safe that people do not have to have security alarms in their cars and houses?

Why did I leave my home country and take a 14-hour direct flight to the United States?

ROMANCE

ROMANCE drowns our minds in illusion.

Surrounding our little worlds with blossoms.

Telling lies about the R E A L  W O R L D ...

Design by: Osama Alotaik of the LI @ GT

A sense of place

I am in the living room downstairs our house in Saudi Arabia. I can smell the oriental (eastern) fragrance that we, Saudis, are famous for, Bukhoor. It’s a special fragrance. In order to use it, you need to put in a small piece of fire to warm it up so that the smoke starts to raise and spread the smell all over the place. I can see the floral decoration on the walls, couches, and artifacts. I can see the marble floor reflecting the shiny natural light and sun lines coming through the very big windows. It’s like a masterpiece all together. I can feel the chill when walking on the marble floor with my bare feet. I am looking at the artifact mural with its lavish, golden frame. I am setting on the couch next to my two brothers, facing our parents, having a really entertaining talk, remembering all good memories. Oh, memories! How can I forget them? How can I forget my graduation party?! I was surprised when I just came back from a three-hour travel and entered my house to find out that all lights were out. I was little bit confused at first. And once I got into the living room, all the lights suddenly got switched on, and my family was waiting for me. I still remember the songs they sang for me. I remember the yummy cake with two cherries on top of it. I am looking at all the colorful balloons around and the smiles on my parents’, brothers’, and little sisters’ faces. I am looking at the tears of joy and the red light of the camcorder indicating that the camcorder is recording. I am looking at the glares on the glasses of juice that we had.

Identity

I am antagonized for those things that make a beloved person beloved; I may remain calm and quiet while having thought storms in my mind. Seldom do my eyes savor sleep, and this is not a symptom of sleep disorder, but a symptom of honor and grace. It is those things that victorious people have in their minds when they can’t sleep at night that make me stay up late every night. My mind is wounded and blemished by events of my life. Oh, how full-of-lessons these events are! I call myself “Gray Osako.” Some of my friends think I am “mysterious,” but I don’t think so. I admit, however, that I am not that kind of persons who can easily be understood. I am sick and tired of people judging me based on first impressions. One of my wishes in life is to wear masks that cover our faces so that we could not judge others until we hear from them, until we “experience” them. My mind is wounded ever since I was born, and because of that, my thoughts are always bleeding, and no one ever could cure my mind wounds, and probably no one ever will be able to do so.

So, why “Gray Osako”? I believe that everyone is a mixture of good and bad, just like “gray” is a mixture of white and black. No one is perfect, including me. This is the first thing I would like any one to know about me. And “Osako” is just a blend of my full name. I wrote down my full name on a paper one day, and after a while, I saw it after a large amount of water was spilled over that paper smudging all the words except for the first letters of my name. I read the undamaged letters, and it spelled like that “Osako.” That’s basically the story of that “mysterious” name. I think I don’t even have to justify my name, I explained it so that you don’t bother yourself asking about its meaning, however.

Now, who am I? Well, I always believed that we don’t have to introduce ourselves to others; and to let others “try” to know us. Why do we always tend to get things done so easily without making any effort whatsoever? Anyway, I am going to shed some light on some aspects of “me”. I am a person who appreciates self-satisfaction, and in order to be satisfied with myself, I believe that it is quite impossible to reach the state of self-satisfaction. I am not playing with words here. If you believe that you could reach that state, you actually limit yourself, you actually set some “fixed” standards for that state that will be “old” one day as you go on in your life, and then, you will find yourself “left behind” and you will have to reset the standards. That said, I always try to update “my standards” for the person I want to be in the future and always try to meet those standards. It is kind of continuous pursuit of “perfection.” I am always trying to improve myself through various aspects of my personality; I never stop; I try to go further … and beyond. I am a person who wants to be looked upon as a successful person not to show off or to brag, but to prove that I am on the right way. Realistic, but dreamy when necessary.