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Humor me?

Defense mechanisms! What does the term "Defense mechanism" exactly mean? A defense mechanism is an unconscious process that tries to reduce/displace the anxiety that erupts in association with instinctive desires (id) or situations that are perceived as harmful to the "self". This understanding of a defense mechanism found me looking at "Humor" as a result of one's defenses. Humor today is often used to attack or subtly criticize others and is occasionally seen as offending rather than as sheer humor. This confusion is honestly justified. The problem we have is identifying the intent of the person sharing his "bit", and that of the audience. Let me call on stage- Sarcasm & exaggerations to help us understand this better. Today's humor is built on sarcasm, which makes a considerable part of sublimation. 'Sublimation' in layman terms is a defense mechanism one uses to express negative thoughts held in a much more socially acce
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That Man!

On a trip to Al Ain, as we cuddled ourselves in the tiny seats, the small public bus had to offer us (me and mom). I put my earphones on and rested my head on her cushy shoulder. We were waiting for the driver to collect our tickets and hit the road, as the other passengers climb into the ride that was to take us to our destination. Among the passengers stepping into the bus, a peculiar-looking man managed to catch my eye, funnily as much as his eye caught me. He did not look well dressed; his clothes looked like he couldn't afford much. His hair was unkempt, and his eyes looked worn out and wrinkled. He looked like he must have had to put in a lot of effort to pull his living in together. As he walked in, he smiled at me and picked a seat diagonally right behind mine. Our conditioned minds that are taught to be skeptical of men, especially of strangers, had me catch glimpses of him cautiously from the corner of my eye. I could tell he was staring at me fearless of being caught d

Free! Are we?

"I NEED TO LIVE MY LIFE THE WAY I WANT TO !" The word freedom is hypocritical in its self, as there is never really any freedom, just as there is never a perfect point of 'perfection.' Every time we walk a step closer to what we believe a free world is, we simply ignore the different sets of responsibilities that load our shoulders (till they droop). The moment we feel we're nearing what we believe freedom is, we naively overlook the different locks of life that are waiting to chain us down all over again. They're just locks of a different color, size, and kind. The concept of "freedom" is an illusion, something like a mirage, where you chase something that really doesn't exist. We cry so loudly and crib to the people closest to us, about how we're locked down in the metaphorical cages of life, without understanding that we never really get rid of those cages. Instead, as we step out of one, we tend to walk into another. Freedom is truly unde

Growing from a fear

Once upon a delirious night, sat a girl lost and thoughtful,  A lover of Time, a killer from crime, Her thoughts reflect in her shadows so fine . The bare walls trigger, All that she hides inside,  She giggles to herself, As she strolls in those lies. As her thoughts delicately dance, And they delicately glide, She lets her joy decorate, Her simple eyes. From a moment of felicity, Comes misery with a bribe, That has her frown, And dares her to pull out her knife. Her sweetened eyes grow wilder and wide, Her thoughts now dance a violent style, Straight from the abyss her devil does rise, And the grip of her knife, Tightens so neatly, and unkind. She stares at him, stern, As he stares back at her, sly Jeering at her, Echoing the agony of her life. Her scream brings a shiver down everyone's spine, As she rose from her chair, Charging to stab him, blind, And as the knife slides through his chest, she smiled, Looking at his now helpless, Oh! his helpless little eyes. "That's th

Hanging off a memory

Once upon a delirious night, sat a girl lost and thoughtful,   A lover of Time,  a killer from crime Her thoughts reflect in her shadows so fine The bare walls trigger All that she hides inside   She giggles to herself As she strolls in those lies As her thoughts delicately dance And they delicately glide She lets her joy decorate Her simple eyes From a moment of felicity Comes misery with a bribe That has her frown And dares her to pull out her knife Her sweetened eyes grow wilder and wide Her thoughts now dance a violent style Straight from the abyss her devil does rise And the grip of her knife Tightens so neatly, and unkind She stares at him stern As he stares back at her, sly Jeering at her Echoing the agony of her life Her scream brings a shiver down every ones spine As she rose from her chair Charging to stab him, blind And as the knife slides through his chest, she smiled Looking at his now helpless Oh his

A bitter truth?

In the tempting silence I sense this bitterness in the air, I hear my thoughts echo, but I see them vanish like a mist in open space. Word’s floating like little feathers, “..and they lived happily ever after with a baby boy and a dog to care for” contradicting the very same “… he died of a heart attack” or maybe a bullet. No matter what, ‘the not so nice end’ stands out right in front of you. Soft and slow, pinching in deeper and stronger; like an injection inserted in through your skin, however to come out as a knife from your stomach;  ones thoughts only seem to enjoy the play. How funny one is often found mocking fairy tales; jeering at their “happily ever afters” . So easily we take no notice of the frequently used phrases like “life is a bitter truth” or “life is just unfair”. Like a pinch of salt scattered about in a vessel meant to serve food to 10 persons; tasteless is what best describes those words. How simple it may seem talking about life using two or a few adjectives to