For lack of a better word.

I wouldn't call it a writer's block, since that implies me being a writer, so I will just call it a block for lack of a better word.
Today is my 20th day back in the Cairo, as I arrived here on the 2nd of the month, I posted only one single tiny post since then. I get ideas but for some reason I don't or can't write them. 
I left Cairo for three days and went to Nuweiba in Sinai. It was beautiful, but even that I couldn't write about. 
It was blogging against sexual harrassment in Egypt day, and still I couldn't get myself to write .
I don't even take as much photos as I should or would normally do.
Cairo is exhausting in itself, it's overwhelming, even if you're doing nothing, you still feel drained and tired at the end of the day. She uses you and abuses you all day, everyday,just because she can. Just because you can't do anything about it, whether you love her or hate her, you simply can't get enough of her. You get addicted to the pace of the city, to the daily struggles, to the thick air, to everything. 
Cairo becomes your opium.
But, I miss Paris. 
I miss Paris and feel bad about it. I feel like cheating on Cairo by missing Paris. I shouldn't be missing Paris because I am with Cairo; the love of my life. But then again, Paris is my favourite mistress, and I am allowed to miss her. Her and her stupid little things.
It's a love triangle here. Me and my cities. My cities and I.
So, here's to both of them, to Cairo, to Paris, to my love affairs with unknown cities, to missing Paris, to leaving Cairo, but always, to coming back.