I almost feel done. finished
I almost feel done. Finished.
I feel tired all the time, and there is always an ache inside me, sometimes in one place, sometimes everywhere.
I have no energy left to fight for my freedom. It feels as if it was never meant for someone like me. Our idea of freedom was simple; just to feel human.
Look at us in the darkness now, in an endless injustice, terrorized, overwhelmed by surviving, reduced to begging for help, writing endlessly in the hope that someone, somewhere, will listen, and share our struggle. How can anyone live through this and not shed tears? Moaz, who carried human flesh again and again and survived a life with no mercy at all, told me today that he never cried throughout the war.
How can anyone witness this and not feel ashamed of their complicity by now? How can human suffering be ignored so easily, as if it means nothing at all. If they cannot feel for other human beings, what does that make them? "Human" is not among the possible answers. How do they go on with their lives believing that those who still feel empathy for us are boring, or excessive, or inconvenient. They seek to strip us of every last trace of our humanity. Like an animal burying its head in the sand, they convince themselves that erasing thousands of children is merely "politics", not a genocide. Anyone who ignores a genocide has no soul that knows how to love or care.
Anyone who advocates while their life is falling apart is a kind and compassionate person who knows pain, abuse, and survival.
What can be said or done that could finally make a difference and set us free? ls there nothing yet known? Nothing yet created?
Freedom is for good people, not for those who kill the innocent. Dignity is for martyrs, not for an occupying soldier killed by his own comrades. The blue sky, filled with kites, is for innocent children, not for criminals playing shooting games. Peace is for the oppressed, not for the oppressors.
Only Allah decides Hell, and grants Heaven.
This was not written to make anyone feel more sorrow for me. It was written so I could feel a little less heavy, if only for a moment. What a homeland. What a world.
