Yea, Dalida reminds me of you……

Am writing this while am sitting on my wide armchair. My legs are a bench for my laptop; I feel its heat on my thighs. Am hearing steel bars for Michael Bolton, earphones made the thing easier, to deaf yourself without disturbing anybody. I haven't slept yet. I felt, since yesterday, since the first second after signing my last e-mail to you frankly, that I have to write another one to you. I felt like notion now, and I know that I'll make sure to sleep first, to reread what I've wrote, taking off all the very stupid things would come out a non-stop 20 hours mind.

In case you are writing this with the same phrase saying I'll edit it, it means one of two, first: am such a spoiled kid. Second, I thought: why not? You always let go. No harm to let go again!

I really don't know what am writing and whatever worth you to cut from yr overcrowded time a tiny share for it. All what I can tell you that I needed to write to you. Badly.

Now am hearing Salma Ya Salama. For Dalida. Remember the song?

Salma ya salam..

Rohna w geena belsalama..

Salma ya salama

Rohna w geena belsalama…

It's weird to hear the accent of dalida singing a Egyptian pop song. But you know, she's adorable, the song is adorable. I can't say why.. but it has a certain charm. You know what else? This song is just like feeling you. Strange mix, but yet adorable. I don't know your name, I don't know your face. Yet I missed you. Yea. It reminds me of you. It sure does.

Why am smiling like his? How could me, the wise mature me, being attached to you, beautiful stranger, that way?!

Salma ya salama ..

Rohna w geena belsalama..

I hate to smile while they photographing me. I feel like my nose would be BIG and HUGE, sure it will be UGLY. But, although, I promise you. I'll smile, wide open one, if I ever met you, dear stranger.

Love you dearly,

Al