انتصار إلهة الأبجدية حامية الملائكة الأم المثالية ملحمة الحب والعطاء ل 24 عام بروفيسور مريم الصايغ على ظلّ باهت لقشورمسروقه صنعت لصةُ فقاعة جاهلة السرطان فاطمة ناعوت غارقة بالسرقة والنصب

The Triumph of the Goddess of the Alphabet, Guardian of Angels, and the Ideal Mother A Saga of Love and Giving
For 24 years, Professor Mariam Al-Sayegh stood tall, while a hollow shadow of stolen fragments created a thief an ignorant bubble of deception. Fatmh Naout, drowning in theft and fraud, is nothing more than a counterfeit.
 
At a time when literary theft and falsification have become a crude mix in an absurd play that the world laughs at for its sheer foolishness, a "thief" emerges, claiming to immortalize me in the 20th century—while we are already living in the 21st!
Ha-ha-ha!
She even steals the most basic, well-known truths titles of books, fragments of articles that have been the subjects of legendary sagas—turning this into the greatest theft scandal of the 21st century! A being without roots, without lineage, as if she were the crude embodiment of a nonsensical theatrical farce.
 
Twenty-one years ago, she emerged from nothingness with no identity, no history, no thought. At the time, she was twice my age, yet she infiltrated a platform filled with intellect and articles, creeping between its pages like a rat feeding on the scraps of thought.
 
In that space, I wrote in 2007—as a writer, poet, and novelist—with dozens of published books since 1998. And after me came a young, talented student, a creative child. I became the guardian of creativity, fulfilling the legacy of my family—descendants of the great Armenian kings, heirs of three civilizations: Armenian, Lebanese, and ancient Egyptian.
 
I am the secular leftist thinker.
Cleopatra, the beloved and the lover of a nation.
The Scheherazade of poetry, novels, and tales.
The silver-orange moon of my people.
The Goddess of the Four Letters.
The Goddess of the Secrets and Mysteries of the Alphabet.
The Goddess of the Twenty-Fifth Hour.
The Eternal Diamond of the Mountain of Light.
The Beacon of Creativity from the dawn of time to eternity.
The Goddess of Chalk.
The Goddess of Critical and Creative Analysis.
The embodiment of the goddess Ma’at, the goddess Hathor, and the goddess of mercy.
Queen Mernith, Queen Tiye, and Queen Nefertari throughout my lifetimes.
The Goddess of Immortal History through ages and eras.
The Goddess of Inspiration across time and generations.
The one who has changed the face of the world with my creativity.
 
President of the Secular Creators’ League Since 2000
The year 2001 marked the revival of spirit, breathing life back into culture, thought, and creativity. That same year, I founded the Arab Creativity Development Foundation, and I became the mother and protector of little angelschildren on the autism spectrum and individuals with exceptional abilities. Orphans became part of our journey, beloved and recognized as ambassadors of creativity worldwide.
 
I also established the Creativity Center—a space for yoga, meditation, gymnastics, ballet, music, writing, travel, and exploring vital energies.
 
Then, I revived the school founded by my grandfather, Nassim Al-Sayegh
"Jeweler and teacher of kings, princes, and politicians in the arts of taste and refinement."
 
In 1955, he established the "School for Reviving Intellectual and Civilizational Heritage for Refinement,"
a beacon of thought, secularism, education, culture, and music, as he himself was a pianist.
 
My grandfather, Nassim Al-Sayegh, of Armenian heritage, was even portrayed in old Egyptian films. His life became a lighthouse for intellectuals, gathering thinkers, philosophers, and writers from around the world at the school. They enriched life with noble and unique human values, adding immeasurably to refinement and culture.
 
However, the school was shut down in 1975. The closure deeply affected my grandfather, and he passed away shortly thereafter, leaving behind a legacy of thought, civilization, and education. His friends became family, the spiritual fathers of the school, and the guiding mentors of literature.
 
Meanwhile,
Al Faik Al-Sayegh
my father’s political activities were restricted!
He had aspired to establish a leftist secular party based on values of beauty and high human ideals. However, for his philosophical and critical writings, he was branded a heretic, his life was threatened, and his blood declared permissible.
 
He roamed as a philosopher, comparing ideas and religions, narrating the histories of civilizations and cultures, a mystic, a serene maestro of classical symphonies, and a guitarist. His discussions, lectures, and writings enriched generations. Yet, he had no interest in direct political activism and continued his life until his assassination in 2011.
 
I revived the school through my father’s efforts:
"The School for Reviving Intellectual and Civilizational Heritage for Refinement, Liberating Minds, and Cultivating Creativity and Creators," now under the name Cleopatra Brand.
 
I expanded its scope to include crafting gold and diamond jewelry, rare gemstones, scepters, crowns, legendary cultural ornaments, exquisite furniture, heritage carpets, and luxurious traditional attire.
 
Thus, I was raised as a free, noble, creative being
a goddess descended from a lineage of kings, prophets, and thinkers, never to be auctioned at a slave market nor sold.
 
I am leftist in thought, secular in vision, profound in writing.
I address religious persecution, deconstruct fabricated myths inserted into religions—such as the houris, immortal boys, and the notion of perversion in paradise.
I engage with philosophy and ideas, debate with dialectics and dogma, and confront thoughts with reason, refining them and restoring them to their roots.
On every page, I leave an indelible creative mark.
 
I am prolific, like a river flowing through the barren desert of thought, amidst a stagnant and infertile intellectual climate.
 
Never did I imagine that even the surface of my published and documented works would be stolen
that 4,990 articles of my intellectual essence would be looted,
that my words would be pillaged,
that ignorant thieves would claim the torch of enlightenment by stealing mere fragments of my ideas.
 
Imagine, dear readers, the creation of an entire brigade of mercenaries
among them the plagiarist fraud Fatmh Naoot,
Mona, daughter of Nawal, and even Nawal herself
all feeding off the remnants of my writings and ideas!
Ha-ha-ha!
 
But today, let us speak only about the ignorant fraudster of Bubble Town, Fatmh Naoot,
and her den of thieves her family of thieves and the website of thieves that stole and erased my 4,990 articles over the years, from 2007 to 2023.
 
A website that publishes stolen works, along with some ignorant publishers who fell into the web of this ignorant fraudster and lost everything in every book they published. For truth belongs to God.
 
She started her crime quietly, step by step stealing one article, then another, until she had stolen my writings from 2007 and published weak, hollow booklets filled with nothing but the remnants of my articles.
 
Every time she stole a batch of my work, she released another meaningless, empty booklet, distorting my writings. Yet no one reads her, and no one feels her presence even when she stole my articles, my critiques of the Muslim Brotherhood, and those who infiltrate Islam. She divided the spoils between herself and others, forming a den of thieves, looting the words of love, the issues of the nation and its people, and the history of civilizations.
 
She gathered 4,990 documented articles, all part of my recorded literary output. Her audacity reached the point where she stole my articles using the very titles of books that I own!
 
All of this happened because we did not care about some insignificant thief who feeds on the scraps of articles. Meanwhile, my stolen words vanished before the eyes of a complicit website, betraying its duty to truth, assassinating integrity.
 
But the theft of intellectual work was not enough.
She committed a greater crime: the deliberate erasure of my articles from the site, deleting them entirely,
until only 126 articles remained like gravestones marking a crime that will never be forgotten.
 
I offered multiple chances to restore the articles and let the matter go, as if it never happened. But she only escalated her malice and hatred, executing more thefts and implicating more innocent or ignorant people!
 
She and her foolish supporters deluded themselves into thinking that their hatred could erase the legacy of my work.
Yet, in doing so, she only destroyed herself immortalizing me instead.
 
And what irony! The world did not ignore this intellectual theft because it was blind.
No no one reads fools.
She was never anything but an empty bubble, inflating herself with stolen words, only to burst under the weight of her own scandal.
 
But fate has its own sense of humor.
When she was exposed, she did not rush to defend herself.
Instead, she built a new den of thieves, gathering those of her kind,
crowning herself as queen of ignorance and plagiarism.
 
She defied all logic when she was celebrated and honored for her stolen works!
Hahaha!
 
The den of thieves has officially resigned from reason and logic.
 
But the height of comedy lay in a surreal paradox that surpassed the hysteria of absurd theater:
 
The thief who imprisoned her own autistic son for three decades
hiding his existence out of fear that he would tarnish her false image
suddenly brought him into the spotlight,
only when she stole my writings on children with autism!
 
And yesterday, she staged yet another farcical performance
with her den of thieves and the fake Facebook accounts controlled by her vile son, Mazen.
 
They rewarded her crime
honoring the woman who imprisoned her son
and stole my work as a “model mother”!
 
Hahaha!
 
What nonsense is this?
A thief with 4,990 stolen articles.
A jailer of her own child.
An ignorant fraudster of Bubble Town,
celebrated for stealing my books— Kooky’s Tales and The Guardian of Little Angels with Autism!
 
Merci beaucoup!
Once again, my stolen thoughts have been “honored”, as usual!
 
She steals from me, yet she immortalizes me.
She steals from me, yet she glorifies me.
Hahaha!
 
Oh, free people of the world,
record in the annals of history this documented disgrace,
for it will not end
it cannot end—until God restores my rights and justice prevails.
 
For He alone is justice itself.
 
Let me record this for history:
Can the names of those who steal from the light ever be written under the sky?
 
History remembers only this:
That countless mobs tried to obstruct the path of the Goddess of Letters, Knowledge, and Enlightenment
but they were nothing more than dust scattered by the wind.
 
Truth remains despite all theft.
Thought endures despite all desperate attempts to erase it.
 
Thieves pass by like shadows, leaving no trace.
But the free word stands firm—like rock defying the storm.
 
The question here is not about the thief
for she has been exposed, disgraced, and burnt to ashes,
flailing senselessly, like a tattered, useless scrap.
 
The real question is about her den of thieves,
dragging her deeper into hell
those who fabricate illusions to sustain her charade.
 
Is there anything truly worth disgracing yourselves for,
by forging lies,
by patching up the theft and its ugliness?
 
Is there anything worth sacrificing honor, integrity, and truth
just to become accomplices in a crime,
just to conceal its hideousness,
just to uphold all this shameless filth and ignorance?
 
But God prevails—
through me and within me—
at every moment, for His glory.
 
And with every act of deception,
the truth unfolds before the world,
exposing in greater detail the depths of the theft,
the rottenness of this corrupt circle,
and the den of thieves orchestrating this cesspool of a town.
 
That is why I wait before taking action
because every revelation, every exposure,
is a victory in itself—
a monumental, resounding triumph
that uncovers every layer,
revealing the full truth to all.
 
So let the Lord be glorified,
from before time and beyond eternity.
 
For God is great, blessed, and true
the Holy One, the Mighty Wonder.
 
A farce unlike any in history
the theft of 4,990 articles,
blatant forgery,
and miserable plagiarism that cannot withstand the light.
 
But justice is not crafted by human hands,
for truth cannot be erased, and words do not die.
And if rights are lost for a time, God, the Just and True, will restore them in due course.
 
Amidst the dust of theft and the clamor of thieves,
thought remains free,
and truth stands tall, undefeated,
for God is absolute justice and eternal truth.
***
(I await the Lord’s comfort...)
Because...
(The Lord is able to restore all that was taken and to be glorified through me...)
 
For everything returns to its noble human essence—to purity,
Because (Truth is never enslaved; rather, it is revealed and shines in the face of falsehood.)
And (Whoever thinks they can build something from theft and lies will inevitably fail.)
For "Truth will always be stronger than all cheap attempts."
 
(For truth is the Lord, who is capable of establishing justice and restoring all that was taken.)
 
To the honorable and the sincere—"You have my love."
 
(May all our days be filled with goodness, happiness, refinement, and noble virtues,
Triumphant over the thieves of writings and ideas,
And over all the Draculas of evil, corruption, crime, terrorism, and extremism.
Victorious with love, truth, goodness, refinement, and nobility.)
 
My triumph is magnified through the Almighty Lord...
With every revelation of theft from the essence of my creativity...
The Lord is great, powerful, and merciful—the doer of wonders...
 
For every kind word spoken about me and my creativity is
(Immortality for me and for the torrent of my creativity.)
(The Lord is great, victorious through me and within me—
Since eternity, now, and forevermore.)
 
Let us rejoice in the Lord’s joy and righteousness, crowned with mercy and all blessings.
 
 
The leftist secular thinker,
Cleopatra, the beloved of the nation.
The Scheherazade of poetry, novels, and tales.
The silver-orange moon of my people.
The goddess of the four letters.
The goddess of the alphabet and insight.
The goddess of the twenty-fifth hour.
The eternal diamond of the Mountain of Light, a beacon of creativity from the beginning of time to eternity.
The goddess of chalk.
The goddess of critical and creative analysis.
The embodiment of the goddess Ma’at, the goddess Hathor, and the goddess of mercy.
Queen Merneith, Queen Tiye, and Queen Nefertari across my lifetimes.
The goddess of eternal history across my ages and lives.
The goddess of inspiration through the eras and generations.
The one who changed the face of the world with my creativity.