Beat up your belly-fat

I’ve always wondered why some men have fat belly. This wonder popped up when I used to play with my father belly. I would play with it as if I was drumming. Yes, it has a funny melody.

As a growing-up, it’s become clear that fat belly is a serious problem to probably all young adults.

They say it mishapes them, that they start to think they have ugly body.

But don’t worry! If you one of those with fat belly, know that there’s a way to get rid of it, and get an attractive fit body.

Yeah! To be a magnitude. I bet you get my picture slightgrin emoticon

Now let’s get to work:

Three ways to beat belly fat:
1- Go training.
Be sportive, and get yourself out of your daily routine, at least three days a week. Do push-ups, run, and stretch your muscles. Or you might do push-ups at your cozy bedroom, before going to bed. Yes, it works. My uncle used to do it, and he’s a fit.

2- Eat healthy.
You know healthy food gives you strong fit body. Try to be a fruit-lover. It has a lot of energetic vitamins, that will make sure give you tendency to do first way (Training) Training without healthy food is a waste, you know!!

3- Be smiley and positive.
Psychology states that positiveness and smiley face are steps for eternity, not really, but just thinking of it has a fruitful effect.

And here you are lovely 😉

These ways are somhow related; trying them in accordance has a better chance to beat up your belly fat.

Unless you don’t!!

Writing for the sake of letting it Out/Go!

The boy I blame is the You I always use in my Facebook posts on the understanding that I’m pointing fingers at me, not a slight doubt about why I write in the second pronoun because it feels kind of blaming someone else. You see, it is the way that will keep me away from any pent-up comments towards what’s happening within my zone. 

I noticed it years ago, that when I keep silent, nothing is life but a word. Read any motivating articles/books, they will tell you to take risk and to get out of your comfort zone as if this is going to take you somewhere but a life, real one where there’s noise and headache. This is the life everyone should live so that when it comes to death you’ll recognise you were a human, not a word. 

Now I’m expressing, last time I couldn’t. Although I might sound convincing in my words, yet my functionality doesn’t reward my invisible effort, or it is a weak performance. Even I think/ conclude I’m always at the same level; there’s no progress, and even always redoing what I should have mastered it. Yes, this problem I call it: Aimlessly Wandering! I’ll be stuck re-practising the same things. Of course, Unless, that’s why I love to use Unless. It implies Hope and life.

Try to understand something!

😉

Insomnia

Those days I called normality. Since I stopped seeing them around, it’s the time to rethink my recovery. Yesterday I had my face kissed; I slept so easily. I hadn’t dreamily thought of reality. My imagination was my accusation. A friend of mine wanted to escape my complains. He never smiled from ear to ear since. I felt his yellowish beam.

This is insomnia. A disorder my night suffered. Once I decided to question my stiuation. Why I couldn’t slumber as back then?

My evolution from a boy into an adult was probably the reason. Perhaps. Perhaps in between. Because it is always in between where there’s the problem. A change occured weakly. A wind altered my window’s shape. All possibilities are to be considered.

I came to many conclusions but one that glued to my mind. Overthinking beyond overthinking. A stage where only difficult-to-change-people accomplish. I think much of upcoming days as if everything is settled. But nothing is yet gained. The pot is yet undecided, whether to use it or cook in Tajin. It’s all empty to be burned.

Sometimes I talked in my mind. Unheard of. I lived a noisy life. Only I could hear. After The All-Hearing. Of course. I had a lot of scinarios plotted specifically to impress girls I trapped to like. My imagination’s trap. I quite understood my situation that I didn’t kiss my pillow for so long. She rejected our relationship the moment she’s told I had Insomnia.
It bestowed on me wonders. I happened to jot them down. I came up with fluent writings. I longed for its stay until I completed my drafts. She’s my precious assistant. I loved being in that frame of mind.

It lasted for some weeks.

But later on it became so terrifying. My eyes turned up smoke-clouded. I hated that normality. Productivity.

It came I saw it doubts. Then my only option to get over it was to shut me down from within and outside. I reconsidered my recovery.

The Mirror-Boy

Part
A dog’s bark almost took my breath. I hurried up towards a crowded place, and there where I met the mirror-boy. After backing to normal breathing, I told him of the dog. He laughed, and introduced himself, I’m the mirror-boy, and I’m here looking for a young adult who is called Khalil, beaming a smile. »
I couldn’t get that unusual name, but whatever I took it as it is, and told him my name, » I’m Yassine from the football’s clan, » and asked, » What have you with that Khalil ? » He conversed, » I’m told he’s trouble with a living-mirror which I believe it’s a dead one because there’s one living-mirror and it’s mine. »  » Oh! My my! what fairy tale is this again ? » Exclaimed I

This all started right after he had become a narcissistic young man, and since then a whisper came to him causing him adolescent trouble. He dreamed of combing his hair, which deemed sarcastically unheard from boys his age. And as a result, he got into a handsome devil, that none could approach, although he was attractive. One thing that made people didn’t want to join him was his piercing stares every time aimed at them out of enjoyment. He thought he had a powerful thing about him, which was unwelcomed by his clan, the basketballs.

While the mirror-boy and I were chatting quite got along with each other Khalil was happily looking at the believed-by-him living mirror, and narcissistically complimented her for that stare, said, » I’m foolishly going to go banana when my powers finally come out of its silence. »

« That was the matter why I have to stop him before he brings chaos to his clan, » The Mirror-Boy angrily argued, and that ended up Yassine telling of where to find Khalil, besides The Mirror-Boy, » I will take you his nest because I know him. He’s my cousin! »

The Mirror-Boy unblinkingly widened his eyes for a quite dead moment, as if he had seen the Cursed Ghost why the clans had separated years ago.

A Serious Chat

A relative asked my opinion about a girl; he wants to propose to her. Before he told me her story, and I was all ears.
Him,” I’d like to know your opinion since you know religion better than me, so I want a piece of advice.”

Me,“ Yeah whatever, go ahead !”

 » Well okay, she’s married but about to get divorced. In fact, she’s married to a man older than her, nearly 10 years, but that’s not the problem. Basically he is the worse husband a bearable woman could bear; he’s an alcoholic and when he’s drunk he splashes her with wine, and he assults her. And that took place, I think as she told, after he had known her birth history.

When they get married, she thought she would tell him everything. She felt that he should know her truth, that she’s a baby of adultery. Accordingly, he used her admition against her every time he gets drunk. He abuses her from all angles, so she no longer into staying with him. “

He continued,” I’ve known her for years and she is dear to me; she has a good personality. I don’t want her to get wasted, that’s why I’d like to hear your thinking. He added,” I feel it’s the only thing to feed my lust, is to marry.”

You know, it’s complicated one. However, I laughed but the one means I’m clueless. But I argued and would type it here as a general issue.

Marrige is not just about sex. Because if you intend to marry for that reason, you are definitely wrong. Marrige is an establishment which Allah bestows upon us for a serious matter. It’s half Deen ( religion.)

That’s why majorty of today’s couples don’t last longer; they don’t get to know the first part which is Deen. When one’s comperehend this fact, they will find it’s not just intercourse. One has to explore the deen before going to a contract, because if it’s soulless, it’s easily breakable.

The only advice I could think of is patience, and to let time show him what will be going on the next years. I argumented,” You have to start praying and reading Qu’ran; answers are undoubtedly there.

Me The Bilingual

Last dream I spoke French to my students. I spoke of applied linguistics as a whole subject but tried to bound them to a specific subject that would be our semester. I asked them why there are many languages, and that’s just for the stimulus to my startpoint question, » How do we acquire our native language ?

They all thought of a reasnable argument, and a special one said that it’s there; we just have to nurture it. Adding, you know if you want to grow tall and healthy, you should eat nutritious food, that will give all you need for your day. This is how a language pops up to anyone; by nurture. And its best favourite food, I think, is to open your ears to your surroundings in order to pick up words and expression.

Another distinctive addition to the topic is that a we all have a universal grammar. It is latent but with time it is developed to come up with a newborn language speaker.

I let students express their ideas and they were so unpredictable of what they had; a cognitive ability that bring up interesting arguments which I sensed that semester would be a productive one.

I woke up and that’s the end of the session.

The following night my little brother told me that I had spoken English, and by that he was annoyed. He added, » I was about to smash you with a pillow but instead I recoded you ! »

I protested, » Oh You did!! Show me; I would konw what I was saying. »

I clicked to start it off, and to my surprise, » Wow that’s me speaking a stressful English! »

I actually spoke of a strange teacher who was into his out-of-nowhere topics- I stopped attending his class for that specific reason- I would be coming to find his way of teaching quite messy and he would ask any one of the students without of the latter raises his hand to answer. I had to be always on alert, which was not my thing.

The last sentence I said was, » I better stay home or would blow into his face! »

As the record ended, I was happy with my second night talikng in sleep. I even hoped next time would something of action; I mean I don’t mind if my talking plays a catalyst and maybe I would push it to some body languge while my eyes closed. Yeah it would be spooky to my brother; he would think I might be taken by an evil spirit.

Later on, I’m told I uttered Arabic standard not my Darija dialect. And that’s how I summed up Me The Bilingual.