I want to go back to Lebanon as much as I want to live. I want to go there to see my many friends and family members. I want to go for the people and the culture. I also want to go because my home there is amazingly beautiful.
It is vast; on the outside it is made up of huge, aging blocks of an unknown, yellowish rock. The gargantuan blocks are cemented together with the most delicate hands. The windows are enormous, with two in every room giving lively light to the entire house. The two main doors are as immense as ancient city gates, easily ten feet high. When we were kids, we felt like miniature creatures while walking into the olden house.I want to go back to Lebanon for another brisk and risky climb to my home’s roof at four-thirty in the morning. I remember clearly many times that my older, supposedly more mature, brother and I, the easily influenced young one, accomplished the bold climb. First, we took the stairs to our neighbors’. Then, with bewildering, amazing, and daring skill, we walked cautiously, backs against the wall, on a very narrow strip of cement jutting out from the neighbors’ house that led to the roof of ours. The slightest of errors whilst on that ten second journey could have been fatal, or at least, paralyzing. After the “Strip of Death,” we maneuvered ourselves most carefully over a small ledge, and then onto the large roof… We had made it in one piece! Then, we could finally enjoy the bounty of our labor. We lay on the dusty roof, and took everything in. At four-thirty in the morning, one’s senses seem to be much enhanced, and we would be amazed at the magical chirping of the birds. And as joy drowned us, the calm gust of wind that came every now and then sent chills down our spine. Then, all of a sudden, it would become disturbingly quite. A snicker here, a burst of laughter there, a whisper, a joke, all of these seemed to cut through the silence, but otherwise, it was the ultimate state of tranquility. In those moments of intense calm, we could hear our heartbeats, and with our multiplied senses, we felt our hearts beat faster and faster, harder and harder, louder and even more loud. That’s the effect the majestic view the sunrise creates had on us.
In front of my Lebanese castle-home are three gigantic ancient pine trees. They hiss, wraithlike, in the clean, refreshing winds, and their monumental size obstructed any views of the hilltop. The house is located atop a steep hill, and the front view is one of heaven and the trees. A cherry tree, wielding nothing but blossoms, and a fig tree are still etched on my memory, but not as impressively as the pine giants. The figs were quite tasty, though, and red figs are a joy to eat after picking. The rear balcony was large and wielded a majestic view of glorious scenery of a distant, brown valley spotted with greenish farming areas and snow drenched mountain chains colliding violently with the sky in the distant horizon.
Our house in Lebanon was amazing physically, and its brilliance was quite attractive. But its power of attraction came from something much greater… it stood for our family, our name. it was where all of my priceless childhood memories were stored, and so I desire extremely to return there, and to bring back the good old days.

Adonis

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Me and Danny had a blast in NY. I can't wait till he comes back! 

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Supermodel Cici 

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chillin lika fellon with a fellon 

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I've been writing this poem for quite a while... I think I can still improve a lot upon it, but I really like it as it is right now, and sharing is caring. So, I shall share.

Love Conquers All

I feel amiss
Without the bliss
Of your intoxicating kiss.

Without your sound,
Or you around,
In lonesome oceans I am drowned.

When you're away,
I curse the day.
My mind to you begins to stray.

But when we're near,
I have no fear:
'Love conquers all,' echoes my ear.

Adonis

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Look at this amazing poem. It's a riddle; I searched it, and I found out the answer. It is kinda difficult to find. It's amazing how he did it with such a long name as Frances Sargent Osgood. True Genius!

A Valentine

For her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes,
Brightly expressive as the twins of Leda,
Shall find her own sweet name, that nestling lies
Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader.
Search narrowly the lines!–they hold a treasure
Divine–a talisman–an amulet
That must be worn at heart. Search well the measure-
The words–the syllables! Do not forget
The trivialest point, or you may lose your labor
And yet there is in this no Gordian knot
Which one might not undo without a sabre,
If one could merely comprehend the plot.
Enwritten upon the leaf where now are peering
Eyes scintillating soul, there lie perdus
Three eloquent words oft uttered in the hearing
Of poets, by poets–as the name is a poet's, too,
Its letters, although naturally lying
Like the knight Pinto–Mendez Ferdinando-
Still form a synonym for Truth–Cease trying!
You will not read the riddle, though you do the best you can do.
Edgar Allen Poe

Adonis

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Today, I went and saw a basketball game with cici. It was an interresting game, but sadly we got crushed. Twice. We had fun, though, and that's what counts. Cici was having fun with all of her cheerleader friends who seemed so excited about the littlest of passes, freethrows, shots, and/or fouls. They have silly little cheers and their harmonious screams are still echoing in my empty, sleepy head. Wow, I just remembered flunk. I love it! Well, my readers, let me be! AP EURO homework awaits!
Adonis

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As I look back at growing up, I always remember reading. I learned how to when I was quite young, and it was my favorite activity. I passed the time reading masterpieces, enjoying heroes like Achilles, Odysseus, King Arthur, and Robin Hood. Between the ages of 10 and fifteen, though, I started reading less and less until I read a devestating 10 books a year. TEN! Wel, I have decided to start reading again. And I started by buying four great novels, The Count of Monte Cristo, The Three Musketeers, The Odessey, and The Hunchback of Notre-Dame. I started off with The Count of Monte Cristo, and am enjoying every single word. I can't believe I ever let myself abandon the joy of reading. Well, I can't write for long, I gotta go read. Edmond Dantes' story is far too intriguing!
Adonis

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