a dream within a dream- illustrated

Aya Zahran, 18, Egypt* A Dream Within A Dream  by Edgar Allan Poe Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow-- You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream. I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And...

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Help me

"I'm an artist. It’s like I’m a prisoner in my work. My art pieces are like my confessions. Only them and I know about what goes on in my mind. And they keep my secrets." Farah Hegazy is currently a student at the American University of Cairo, Egypt. According to her, "People today don’t know what real art is supposed to be like because they are distracted by all kinds of technology and everything else around them. They’ve reached the point...

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Rejection

It’s almost as though you know it’s about to come, that suffocating second right before it finally knocks on your door. You’re expecting it, you can almost feel the pressure of the universe forcing it down upon you as it draws closer…and you try to push it back, fight it, inhibit it…just slow it down, if that’s all that can be done. But it’s going to come anyway. So there’s a part of you that’s simultaneously bracing for the impact. Readying...

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Lacus Mortis

Death smiles upon the barren and the lost,  Death pries on the souls of the hopeless.  Death waits upon those who appreciate,  Who realise the truth of fate.  With grief, walk the souls,  With anguish, they swim,  Across the Lake of the Death  They burn, within.  Above, there lies,  The sea of cold,  Where even the most lustrous hearts  Fail to glow.  Below the flowing basaltic lava  Below the wails of the dead  is a...

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the unknown scares me

Pictures are sad. I see how people love to take pictures of good moments or with their loved ones, and it amazes me, how a picture can capture a certain moment in the past and hold it forever unchanged, untouched. I see how they think remembering those days would make them happy but for me, it’s just sad, how it’s not here no more. I look at my pictures and it scares me – no it terrifies me, how fast I grew up, how it all happened so quickly, how the pace of time just speeds up and doesn’t allow us to think thoroughly, how I see pictures of...

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Hash E-zine: Issue 1

Hearts on fire. The rush of that first date. The pain of that love lost. The last shred of hope that kept you alive. The truth that didn’t set you free. The night you cried yourself to sleep because life just wasn’t fair. The night you couldn’t sleep because life couldn’t be better. Hearts on fire. The fiery anxiety, an inferno of ideas, the haste of a pin unleashed from a grenade, a finger pulled off a trigger. Ecstasy, unbridled elation, a moment of release, a burden lifted, a work of admiration, of art, love, hurt, lust, inanity and...

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Hash E-zine: Issue 0

'Show Off' is the sample issue of Hash through which we aim to demonstrate our vision and... 'celebrate humble beginnings'. Special thanks for the artwork goes out to: Leonid Afremov - Party Clown (Cover Photo); Miss deviante, DevianArt – Grunge Mask (Page 5) ;Zummerfish, DeviantArt- Ruin and Despair (Page 14) and CassiopeiaArt (Cathrine Langwagen), DeviantArt- Valley of Despair (Page 18) ...

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the myth of unconditional love

I’d be writing this article from St. Tropez if I got a dollar for every time the words ‘unconditional love’ were mentioned on a cheesy eighties movie or some stupid New York Times’ bestseller involving an  equally cheesy storyline. The mere ideology behind unconditional love is naïve, unrealistic and plain ludicrous. Excuse my apparent lack of romanticism. Before I elaborate on why unconditional love isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, let me ask you readers, out there, a simple question, what is Love? According to Dorling Kindersley dictionary,...

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chasing clouds

A person I so happened to introduce my quirkily abominable literary skills to today told me nobody in the 21st century has the time to read the amount of cow’s dung I write. Therefore, after 233 gracefully-omitted words of 'just that', I'm going to heed his advice and cut straight to the chase. Better buckle up if you haven't already. I haven’t lived very long (white hairs are a God-given gift), but through my very-short-life’s travails, I’ve discovered that most people somehow live under the impression that what makes a dream, a dream is,...

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