Angry Tarek's Top Albums of 2012

Yo I’m a nerd (chill) so I do this every year, check it out.

Top 10 Albums of 2012 (IMhumbleassO)

1)   Frank Ocean – Channel ORANGE

- I don’t really have to justify this choice. Have you heard it? It needs no justification. But I also have a deep connection with this record on a personal level. Overall this year has been the hardest of my life, without question. Estranged from family and friends, living in a new place that doesn’t quite accept me, and experiencing the age-old ache of unrequited love. It’s also been the best year of my life, and Channel ORANGE had a large part to play in that. Anyway, the music alone speaks for itself.

2)   Joey Bada$$ - 1999

- This one might be surprising. But the kid is 17 years old and he has the best flow out there right now among newcomers, and even among most veterans. The whole PE crew is incredible and when it comes to technical rapping chops, they’re making the competition look like 8 year olds (which is not that much younger than they are themselves). I expect 2013 to be their year, and if they continue to grow and cultivate their endless amount of raw talent this might be their decade too.   

3)   Grizzly Bear – Shields

- Definitely not my favorite Grizzly Bear album, but that isn’t saying too much considering they’re my favorite band. The production is immaculate, the lyrics are plentiful and less lofty and art-rock-y (which I tend to prefer), and the music is still good as fuck. No reason to not be completely satisfied with this album. These 4 guys have perfected their craft and they have yet to disappoint. Got on the GB train about 4 years ago and I don’t see myself getting off soon. 

4)   Kendrick Lamar – Good Kid M.A.A.D City

- He went in it and stayed in it for 85 straight minutes. This album probably deserves to be a little higher on my list, considering it’s honesty, passion, and magical wordplay. But hey I’m not ashamed to admit that a lot of personal preference and taste went into my rankings, so at the end of the day Kendrick came out just below bronze. That does not, at all, belittle this album as an amazing work of art and an inspiration for scrub artists like me trying to find a voice. I found a lot of solace and resonance in these bars, and my experience growing up in America could not be more different than Kendrick Lamar’s. That should speak to his ability to make the listener feel like a part of the music. Kendrick blurs the line between artist and listener so well it would make Foucault cream his pants. 

5)   Twin Shadow - Confess

- With the emergence of figures like The Weeknd and Drake, being a dark and self-loathing womanizer has become kind of cool. I’m not exactly proud of it, but I’ll admit that when I’m having girl problems it feels pretty fucking good to drive around downtown Austin blasting “Wicked Games” and shouting “Just tell me you love me, even though you don’t love me”. Don’t judge me, y’all. George Lewis Jr. of Twin Shadow is another person that does a really good job of making you want to be him, and he’s basically a total fucking cock. I find comfort in singing along to his well-crafted melodies about telling women “I’m just not that into you”. Probably because there’s a big part of me who wishes I could be a little more like that guy (I tend to end up on the other side of the table).

6)   Flying Lotus – Until The Quiet Comes

- Yeah I was totally late on the whole FlyLo thing, sue me. But since I’ve jacked about 4 FlyLo beats for my rap project in the past couple of months, it’s clear that I jumped in with both feet. I’ve spent the year getting very familiar with Stephen Ellison’s discography, and I’m comfortable saying that this last album is his masterpiece thus far. It’s gotten to the point where his productions are more than just jazz-infused hip hop beats, they are in a whole class, even genre, of their own. These songs seem to not only weave in and out of different genres and influences, but also through time and space in an incredible fashion that I don’t even fully understand. But yeah, I dig it. 

7)   Purity Ring – Shrines

- I first listened to this band in a Cairo hotel room back in July, when I was still adjusting to living in Egypt and dealing with an intense amount of emotional stress. I remember hearing “Fineshrine” and disappearing into the Canadian duo’s very graphic lyrics and fantastic production. I will say that when I got the chance to hear the full album, some parts of it did not blow me away the same way that the first couple of singles did.  However, about 5 of the songs on this album could easily make any “top 10” list of 2012. I think that merits a spot on Angry T’s list.

8)   Schoolboy Q – Habits and Contradictions

- I did not expect to like this LP. I first gave it a go in January and was not particularly feelin it from front to back. However the first two songs on the album (“Sacrilegious” and “There He Go”) kept me coming back and giving it another try. By mid-year I was banging this record all the way through on the regular.  Q is all the right kinds of different; he’s weird, talented, and refreshing. In this whole SWAG hip hop generation, little rival the size of this dude’s swag muffin. So even though it took a while, I’m definitely feelin him now.

9)   Shlohmo – Vacation EP

- The song “Sink” on Shlohmo’s 2011 LP “Bad Vibes” is what made me want to start rapping. It wasn’t some Ghostface Killah rhyme wizardry or Kanye West’s $400k maybach or even Das Racist’s (RIP) amazingly witty “Sit Down, Man” mixtape. It was that leaky production and pipe clanking that climaxes in a opus of flute and synth-y emotion that gave me the impulse to start saying shit over music. Every time I listen to that song I want to cry, and there’s no fucking words. And February’s Vacation EP definitely did not disappoint. It’s a completely different Shlohmo, he pretty much only uses 4 or 5 voices in each of the three incredible songs, but they sound more confident and on-point than ever.

11) Heems – Wild Water Kingdom

- Yeah Das Racist blew me the fuck away in 2010 with “Sit Down, Man”, and anyone who knows me or has even talked to me once about music knows I worship these guys. After the release of that mixtape it’s been hard to find a DR related project that I could fully get behind. “Wild Water Kingdom” just came out a couple of weeks ago and Heems gave me what I’ve been craving for the last 2.5 years. The intellectual overtones and hilarious punch lines are back, with an added honest desire to get some fucking validation in the rap world (which I’m starting to identify with). The roster of producers is basically my wet dream and Hima is definitely one of my biggest role models. Mad props to brown Chris Farley on this one.

Honorable Mentions (no particular order)

Miguel – Kaleidoscope Dreams

How to Dress Well – Total Loss

Holy Other - Held

The Walkmen - Heaven

The xx – Coexist

Dirty Projectors – Swing Lo Magellan

El-P – Cancer For Cure

Killer Mike – R.A.P. Music

Biggest Disappointments

·      Passion Pit – Gossamer
     - There was only one song on the whole album that I really liked (Constant Conversations). The rest were either alright or I just wasn’t feeling it at all.

·      Pop Etc. – Pop Etc.

     - So the 2010 Morning Benders LP “Big Echo” is one of my favorite albums in recent memory. When they changed their name to Pop Etc. and promised Boyz II Men influenced R&B/Pop music, I was intrigued to say the least. They came out swinging with a very passable mixtape, with a lot of interesting sounds and great melodies. Then Pop Etc. the LP happened…Let’s just say it did not live up to expectations.   

·      Beach House – Bloom

- Not much to say here. Just sounded like a less inspired and less beautiful Teen Dream to me. Seeing how Teen Dream was my #1 of 2010, I was mad disappoint. 

Young and Restless

A couple months ago I listened to this song on the train while a group of friends and I were taking a weekend trip into the desert. The song had a pretty instant effect on me and I really wanted to put some verses on top of it. For some reason the phrase "young and restless" was on repeat in my mind that weekend so when I got back to Alex I made some lines and a small one minute version of the song. Last night, after letting the idea stew for a while, I returned to it and added some more lyrics and extended the song for another couple of minutes. I like how it turned out. Holy Other is a boss.

Young and restless, still aint been tested

But I’m invested in this obsession with the mess I’m in

There’s something bleedin out the hole in my chest and

Still trying to find the occupation that I’m best in

Give it a rest man, what am I tryin for

I think its cause my name means I’m always at the door

 That’s opportunity knockin and I throw that bitch onto the floor

And when he gets up spit in his face and then ask for more

Cause I’m never fuckin satisfied

even something beautiful is monotone inside my eyes

sepia colored landscape of the desert made me wanna cry

but the blue haze of the ocean has never looked so fuckin dry

I look to the sky… I know there’s nothing there

I feel small like the grains of sand in my hair

And I can’t get em out, these thought’s of death

But I’ll cut my scalp and pick em out till there’s nothing’s left   

Uh

Now there ain’t nothing left, but Angry T

Oh young and restless me is more than just jazaa’iri

It’s everything that I can be, it’s everything that you can see

I’m young and free, I’m right in front of you

You make your judgments and I’ll see em through that’s what I’ll do

Cause every day it’s something new like comin up right out the blue

Now get in closer until you can feel the body heat

And my flame stay with you for like four or five fuckin weeks

Now can I get a spot of empathy? 

Lil bit of emotion from the people that are feelin me 

Be fuckin real with me, these insecurities

ain’t even 23 and I aint got no purity

you’re never sure of me, that’s all I need to worry me

and all the medicine in the world couldn’t cure me

your scent keeps lurin me and I keep coming back for more

cause maybe at my core I’m just a young and restless whore 

if we’re keeping score I probably already lost the game

and if we ain’t then nobody wins and that’s a fuckin shame

I destroy my name and show the world I can’t be tamed

I’m not the same as them I seek a different kind of fame

A new celebrity, no longevity

Incredibly and steadily letting go of brevity

That shit is dead to me, it’s in my memory

Everything looks red to me, with shades of emery

-Tarek

False Astronomy

I've had these lyrics for a while now. I was looking for a good beat to lay them over. Mister Lies came through:

Listen here: http://soundcloud.com/angrytarek/false-astronomy-false

False Astronomy

My emotion is greater than the Atlantic Ocean

standing on a Spanish coast fixating on a notion

drink a little potion, lose a little focus

and collapse into the waves and disappear into the motion

Get up on my podium and talk shit like Imodium

like even if there was a God I’d probably never go to him

Cause I don’t think he’d like me, he’d probably try to fight me

and when I lose he’d cast my soul into hell to spite me

Saying my in sha’ allahs when I talk about the future is nothing but an exercise in Islamo-chic couture

I’m so fucking cultured

I got soul but I’m not a soldier

Relax in the galaxy of angry T chill with me

And lemme tell bout all this bull shit that’s been killin me

Long nights kept up by mosquito bites

I turn off the lights and tell myself that everything’s all right

Is it? Is angry tarek really worth a shit?

If success were for sale I'd probably try to purchase it

But I’m like college kids back-packing through Europe

Common, I know exactly how to get your pastor stirred up

Go on grab the stirrups and ride me in to the sunset

And strap in cause I ain’t even close to bein done yet

We ain’t had no fun yet, Like I ain’t even come yet

And there I go, that’s the climax

Imax, girls wear 3D glasses for my sex

Cause I’m an optical illusion

That’s an optimal conclusion for your confusion

Losing my mind as if I ever had a grip on it

Arrogant, like my shoulder got a chip on it

Flip on it, see this table leave a tip on it

And whether my glass half full or empty I still sip on it

Money in Madrid

Why not start with a Frank Ocean quote!

"My silver spoon has fed me good
A million one a million cash
Close my eyes and feel the crash"

From "Super Rich Kids"

I’m a pretty fair-weather communist. There are stretches of time, usually when I’m doing well on cash flow, that I’m a staunch one. For instance, anyone that was in my Modern Standard Arabic class this summer would probably tell you that I’m a radical and slightly unreasonable bleeding-heart leftist. Pretty much every day in class ended in an argument about economics, and I was always the champion of the oppressed. Now if you put into perspective that this summer was directly after a year of saving, a very lucrative graduation party, and my birthday, you’d understand that I was pretty comfortable on cash-money. Not to mention that I was in Egypt, where you can get a meal for 14 cents and top floor (beach front) apartments cost 200 dollars a month.

Fast forward to right now, post summer. I am sitting in a hotel room in Madrid, sick as fuck. I’ve been in Spain for a couple weeks and although the first 12 days or so was one of the greatest experiences of my life, the last 4 days has been a physically and emotionally challenging experience. It turns out that being sick in a country that you have no insurance for is expensive! Especially for me, because I’m completely clueless when it comes to taking care of myself. Usually I call my mom and she tells me what to do. So, in my attempt to be independent I’ve fucked up a lot the last couple days and spent a lot of money that I could have saved with 5 more minutes of thought. In this sudden and large loss of revenue, I’m a lot more stressed about money than I was 2 weeks ago.

A 22-year-old “communist” who’s had everything handed to him since he was born, and who will probably never really have to worry about money, is stressed because he spent a lot of money unnecessarily in 4 days in Europe while he was sick.

How fucked up is that? Honestly, I’m sure that I think about and consider money more than most kids my age. Even those that are much worse off than me.

Lol. I don’t want to shit on myself too much. I’m not conceding my title as a communist, even a staunch one. But I will admit that even though I hold those views, I’m possessed by dat paper. I’d lust to have so much of it that I could do whatever I want, buy any toy that I want, and have sex with more women (I’m also a feminist). The dissonance between what we aspire and what we achieve can really resign us into a state of inaction and apathy. But I don’t think it HAS to. I hope that although I’m a green-faced sexist and angry fuckhead I can still fight for communism, complete equality for women, and world peace without being called a hypocrite.

THAT’S JUST HOW I WAS RAISED DAMMIT.

Last year I went to a lecture by Norman Finkelstein, cool bro. He talked a lot about this dissonance between what we believe and what we do, and I’ll end with a (paraphrased) quote from that lecture.

“You want to know how to fix the financial crisis? Cancel money. Just get rid of money and there will be no crisis. Of course I’m not going to say that though, because the public is not ready to accept it. But that doesn’t mean I’m not a communist.”

Well Dr. Fink, you’re a better communist than me because I still haven’t completely accepted the idea on my own. I hope to have that harmony between belief and action one day. Until then, I guess I’ll just keep writing and see what happens. 

Flies

I'm currently packing my bags to move from the university dormitories to my new apartment in the center of Alexandria. As I was putting various articles of clothing and random things that I've accumulated for the bast two months into my suitcases, I started thinking about this little cell that I've been living and sleeping in since I arrived. A musty little 15x15 square room with a closet and 2 shelves. The white walls are marked with mysterious red and black skid marks, and a filthy maroon rug really ties the whole place together. My bed is essentially a slap of fabric held up by 6 pieces of wood (surprisingly comfortable!) and I turned every little ledge and hook I could find into something that I can use.

I think all the guys that are here with me will agree that the most unsettling thing about the medina (the dorms) is the flies. No matter how much you leave your door closed, or how often you keep your light off, whether you have food in your room or not, how frequently you clean your room, it doesn't matter. Those flies will find a way in, and they will fuck, and they will make some more flies, and fuck some more. They don't really do much, just kind of float lazily around your space and waver back and forth almost as if they were drunk. Over the course of the summer I almost learned to ignore them. I accepted that they were a part of my life now, and I should just let them do their thing.

But I wanted to write about this place because I noticed that, as...interesting as the conditions are, I really started to make this place my own. Almost like a home. It was a place where I could close the door, turn on the A/C, play some American music, maybe watch an American movie, and tune out the tension that exists outside. When I had a difficult day or week, even a difficult hour, I could come into this space and lay down. I could cry if I needed to, write a song or a blog.  I could also walk down the hall to a friends room and sit with him and hang out. There's something comforting about packing 3 or 4 people into a 15x15 room and talking and laughing with each other, knowing that they're going through this experience with you. It's nice to be able to walk 15 seconds to an extremely passable 6v6 soccer field where you can stay up into the late hours of the night playing together with Egyptians and Americans.

I also can't underplay the valuable language learning environment this place provided. Not only was I able to practice Arabic with a bunch of people, I was forced to. From the guys who watch the gate to the people that I lived next to to the people that I ate dinner with, there was no way I could not talk. And because of that my speaking abilities have improved dramatically, much more than they would have from just being in class.

I won't miss the community bathrooms, and the smell of moldy clothes hanging on the drying racks. And even though the flies have become kind of like annoying pets, I don't think I'll miss them either. I definitely won't miss having to take 3-4 taxis a day to get to school and around the city. I will, however, miss a lot of other things about this place. Most of all, the accessibility I had to the other guys in the program. I think it would have taken a lot longer for us all to become friends if we weren't  thrown into this place together. Now we at least know how to tolerate each other, and maybe I'll hit up some of them up throughout the rest of the year to hang out. Maybe.

That was a boring post. Sorry, get over it.

Peace
Angry T

p.s. take a listen: http://soundcloud.com/angrytarek

Two months down, ten....to.....go?

I just spent 30 minutes in the shower trying to get all the sand out of my hair. I barely have hair. WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

48 hours on a beach without showering will do that, I suppose. This weekend I went to a small town on the Mediterranean with a friend of mine and his family. About a 40 minute drive west of Alexandria, it felt like a universe away from the loud crowded and angry city. Here, sitting in my dorm room, I constantly hear people yelling at each other across the complex from their windows (why, god dammit, why? There's literally 1000 Ahmeds that live here, how is the one you're calling going to know you're talking to him?), whereas in this quaint little community the only audible sound is the movement of the ocean. My friend told me this weekend the water was especially nice, which was apparent. It was a picturesque scape of clear blue met by fine white sand, which apparently sticks to your skin far after you've left. We swam, broke our fast at sunset, prayed at the local mosque, I met some Egyptians from Britain who were pretty neat. It was a good weekend, another needed escape from the stresses of Alex.

A year ago I was getting ready to go to Algeria for a short visit after a summer studying in Morocco. I remember the intense excitement I felt to return home. I was so ready to eat tex-mex and drink whiskey with my boys, to smoke a cigarette with my sister as we watch her dog (there was only one at the time!) run around and poop in her backyard. To drive my dads car on 183 and pass the car dealerships and gas stations that I grew up around. To see the burnt Texan grass, the oak trees that infest my neighborhood. And on August 19th 2011 at about 1:00 in the morning I did arrive home. I looked through sleepy jet-lagged eyes at the places and things I had missed so much. They may not have been as enchanting as I remembered them to be, but I was happy to know that they were there, right where I left them.

Well now I've been in Egypt for 2 months. I feel the same longing for home, but it's not nearly as strong as it was a year ago. To know that only the summer is ending, and a full 10 months towers over me before the program ends and I move to the next stage of my life, is sobering. An 18 day trip to Spain, moving into a new apartment, starting an internship, much Arabic, and what I'm sure will be a boatload of new experiences and challenges all await me. It's hard not to focus too much on the future, on a time when everything is supposed to be easier and happier and more comfortable. Especially when things are difficult in the present. I've been letting time pass me by here in Egypt, and to be honest it often makes me happy when I realize how quickly it's going. To the point where I disappoint myself. For instance, my whole life I've wanted to see a beach like I saw this weekend. Clear blue water, white sands, quiet, and virtually empty. I certainly enjoyed it, but it wasn't until I returned to Alex that I actually realized what had just happened. Instead of really appreciating it while I was there, my mind was full of thoughts about tomorrow, and the next day, and the next month, and the next year. I really need to stop doing that! Or I'll look back on this experience and think to myself, what was I DOING that whole time.

What I did learn from leaving for 2 months last year was that home is there. Things may change, some people my leave and some new condos my be built, but for the most part it's waiting for you to come back and welcomes you when you do. What I'm trying to convince myself of right now is that I won't betray my home in Austin by actually trying to make one here. As temporary as I try to make this experience in my mind, I know I'd be short changing it if I didn't give it all I had. So here's to an attempt at a new Egyptian experience. And here's to all of you back home, I hope you'll be just as I remember you after a little while.

Love
Angry T

Ramadan a la Mideast 2/Fayoum/Update/Whatever

Last year around this time I wrote a blog post out of Meknes, Morocco expelling my thoughts and impressions of Ramadan. At that time, I couldn't have guessed all the love and joy and heartbreak I would experience over the next 12 months. It turned out to be the best year of my life, so far. Anyway, Ramadan. An eternally receding 30 days out of the year where I usually find myself treading between a nostalgic embrace of my Arab-ness and a feeling of guilt for betraying my heritage (half of it, anyway). You see, this is the only time of year when I feel a little bit bad for being such an infidel. So I make myself feel better by fasting a little, reengaging what's left of my spirituality, reorienting and refreshing my outlook on religiosity, and exercising minimal discipline in a life where I can essentially get anything I want. 

This year, the holiest of months kicked off in an interesting way. Today is the 4th day, but it's the first day I'm actually fasting. That's because I took a trip to El-Fayoum, a region south of Cairo famous for its oases and ancient ruins from the old pharaohnic kingdom. A couple friends and I took a train to Cairo, a subway to Giza, fought with a couple bus drivers, then found a microbus to take us to a small town on a large lake called "Azbat Tunis". A village used to tourism because of it's rich pottery culture, but is still a very well kept secret in Egypt. You'd be hard pressed to find Egyptians that know about this town. In fact, I think more Italians know about it than Egyptians. Despite it's reputation as a hotspot for keen eco-tourists, because of Ramadan and post-revolution lack of tourism, we were the only people that were walking around the beautiful town. The calm haze of summer Ramadan permeates the dusty streets. We stayed in a really awesome eco-lodge, ate like kings, smoked hookah, drank jack daniels, got to know each other a little more, drove out to the desert and saw 40 million year old whale fossils and waterfalls, got weird at the top of a 4000 year old pyramid. All this for about 80 dollars a person...all of it. It was literally one of the best weekends of my life. 

Now I'm back in Alexandria. I'm currently sitting in my prison-cell like bedroom, my good friend is sitting next to me studying vocabulary in preparation for class tomorrow (we'll be talking about futures studies in the Arab world, interestingly enough), I can hear the sound of cats in heat outside. The wet Mediterranean air feels nice, but is disagreeing with my sinuses a bit, and is nothing compared to the wonderful dry heat of the desert. And whether it's a self-fulfilling prophecy or not, shout out to Richard Scofield Fischer III, fasting all day has cooled my temperament and sharpened my thoughts. I can feel the weight of the next 10 months setting in more and more every day. A deep sadness has also been slowly sinking down into my chest and stomach over the past 2 months, though it isn't a feeling that I'm ashamed of. It's a productive discomfort. I read an article today about Michael Angelakos, the guy behind Passion Pit, and he said something a line it it that made me stop and think. 

"Dissatisfaction and creation are inextricably linked, so you cannot be satisfied"

I do agree with that sentiment. I think that people can be creative and simultaneously happy, but I also know that any time I’ve created something that I was halfway proud of it came out of some sort of discomfort. Whether it be a simple every day insecurity (I have a couple of those) or a full-fledged emotional breakdown, it’s always been something that made me uneasy that made me want to create. Well, I have plenty of discomforts here to keep my busy. Not eating is an obvious one. And after a four-day weekend getting back into the swing of things in an intensive program isn’t so easy, especially when you spend most of your time watching tv/writing a blog post. In addition, coming off a cheap and stress free vacation and being thrown back into a world of stresses and responsibilities can make you feel like you’re right back at the starting point. Like you haven’t worked out the kinks in your life that are really dragging you down. I’ll have to take solace in the knowledge that I am, in fact, working them out. Slowly untangling and untwisting them back to normal. You know, I remember singing along to this song last year right before I went to Morocco. It goes:

“I cannot wait for summer, I cannot wait for June. When all the ghosts are quiet, when everything is new.”

Well June came and went last year, and this year it came and went again. I still find my self, in the aftermath of June 2012, lamenting. Singing and praying for June 2013 to arrive. For the ghosts to quiet down, for new things to come. Like I said, the last 12 months was the best year of my life. Here’s to the next one, which I hope will live up to that standard. It has all the right ingredients; I suppose it’s just up to me now.

All my love,

Tarek

"I could never make him love me"

http://frankocean.tumblr.com/post/26473798723

On the 4^th of July Frank Ocean, one of the most talented singer-songwriters of our generation, opened up to the world about his sexuality. For those who haven’t heard about it or seen the post, he released a tense journal entry that explains how his first love was a man. This was a week before he released his fantastic new album. Publicity stunt or not, it was a brave revelation to a scary and homophobic world.

What impresses me most about this “coming out” is that it is impossible to turn it into a Hollywood Extra sound byte: “FRANK OCEAN, GAY,” because that’s not what his story is saying. It is a glimpse into an exploration of feelings, fears, love and sexuality. We love to pigeonhole people into our premade and prepackaged categories (gay, straight, bisexual). We don’t allow ourselves to investigate and understand our wants and desires, our hearts. We feel uneasy and ashamed when we admit to ourselves an attraction that isn’t understood or accepted by society (or by the ones closest to us). 

Listening to Channel Orange, the new album, in conjunction with reading Frank’s post and working through my current emotional state of insecurity and confusion, has reminded me that finding a way to express yourself and connect with your emotions is an important exercise. Especially when you’re at your lowest, when things are at their worst. When beauty loses it’s effect and colors aren’t as bright.

So, I write in solidarity with Frank today. I understand how hard it is to lay out your fears and your heartache, to not keep them locked up and away from everyone you know and love. I consider this blog and the songs that I occasionally post revelations similar to the one Frank posted. Welcome to show and tell.

As I said in my last post, the time I’m spending in Egypt hasn’t been the easiest. I’ve been torn up and thrown away, picked up and moved to an unfamiliar place, trapped and forced to deal with a broken heart that hasn’t even finished breaking, all without the help of my loved ones. However, since the last time I posted, a barren desert landscape is no longer the only thing that has struck my attention and demanded my recognition. Frank Ocean now has, too. His bravery, and his talent, is an inspiration. Beauty is slowly working its way back into my life, and that makes me optimistic about my future here in Egypt and excited for what I’ll discover. What I’ll learn about my world and myself. What I'll create. Hope this one doesn’t make you guys worry as much as the last one might have <3.

Monotone

For a couple of years now my plan has been to spend a year in Egypt after I graduate from Texas. To learn Arabic, meet new people, get a more worldly perspective, boost my resume. I've looked at this experience as the next step in a process. 

Bachelor's, Egypt, Master's, PhD, respectable and knowledgeable human being who makes money and will die comfortably. That's been the plan.

Well here I am. I arrived in Egypt and started studying Arabic and meeting Egyptians and going to coffee shops and fighting with taxi drivers. Watching the sunset over the Mediterranean multiple times a week, snorkeling a shipwreck in the Red Sea, talking about politics. I witnessed Egypt's first ever democratic presidential election in it's extremely long and rich history. An election that could have destroyed the current stability in the country. All in the first month. This seems to be exactly what I want and need according to my plan. I even got accepted into the Master's program that I was aiming for, so the next stage is already set up for me. Perfect, right?

So why do I feel so in-genuine? Like a ghost of a person who's putting on a smile. I don't want to undercut Egypt, this place is great. It's beautiful and the people are friendly and there's so much to learn here. However I can't help but be underwhelmed by how I'm taking it all in. Everything that should be wonderful is coming up short and lack-luster. My heart, my passion, is somewhere else. It's been taken from me. I lost it and I don't know how to get it back. I've lost my ability to express, to feel and connect. The only way I can experience these things is through some distorted nostalgia, a transference of the past onto the present. 

Yesterday I went on a "safari" trip, which apparently translates to riding an ATV through the desert. When we reached a clearing surrounded by a band of mountains, we stopped to watch the sunset and take pictures. I stood still and took in the panoramic view of the Sinai, and felt for the first time like I was fully experiencing something. The sepia-toned landscape, the silence, the fleeting rays of light. At that moment, it was the most beautiful place I'd ever seen in my life. I've seen the green, snow-capped Rocky mountains. The clear Caribbean, the violent Pacific. I've walked the streets of New York and Paris. I've sprawled out under thousands of purple and green Texas sunsets. These are breath-taking and beautiful things. But I maintain that I've never been more in awe than I was yesterday in that brown and barren land. Gorgeous in it's uniformity. 

I remember saying to someone, "this is my natural habitat". I assumed then that I only meant since my family is from the gates of the Sahara, this kind of place is in my blood. After a day, however, of letting that desert sink in to my mind, I don't think it's that simple. I was blown away by the desert and it's monotonous splendor because it is a perfect reflection of my current mindset and emotional state. Colorless, other than the sepia-toned nostalgia that continually washes over me and inhibits me from experiencing newfound beauty. The harder I look, the more seemingly endless the beige horizon. 

Although this post may seem... depressing, it feels more like a release. I know that this is going to be the hardest year of my life. I've never felt more lost and confused, but I think I need to feel like this. And writing this is helping me break down the walls that I've been hiding behind to shield myself from actually feeling anything. They're very tall walls. 

As I write this final paragraph I'm listening to a song that has made me cry very many times. It's the final song on a fantastically sad album. It's also the longest song on the album. I feel like I'm living the last and longest song on my first album. I want to start working on a new one, but at this moment I really don't have the material or know where to begin. But I guess that's okay. Because I have a feeling my sophomore effort will be something special.

-Angry T

"This is not the sound of a new man or a crispy realization, it's the sound of the unlocking and the lift away. Your love will be safe with me."