21 Aug 2012
ريحة الأرض
ليش هيك صايرة ريحة الأرض بالشام؟ عم تتناثر أجزاء منا، كل يوم في أجزاء عم توقع وتغرق بالأرض، بتشوفها بحافة الشارع، تحت الرصيف... عم يكنسها الزبال من دون ما يعرف ولا نحنا نعرف، ضو الشارع ما بيعكسها ولا ضو السيارات أو ضو الإشارات... بتفيق الصبح وكل يوم بتحس في جزء منك راح، ضاع... وبتحاول تستعيد التحكم بحياتك وبتساوي قهوة، بس بعد ما يروح تأثير الكافيين الظهر ويروح تأثيرالإندورفين لما ترجع من المظاهرة ويروح تأثيرالفودكا بعد ما تكون صرخت عالسكيتي وما حدا فهم، بتنام وبتفيق وبتلاقي ريحة الأرض مختلفة، كل هالأجزاء يلي عم يكنسها الزبال كل يوم الصبح...
16 Aug 2012
Pre 3 km
So here it goes, as it’s been years since I actually sat and decided to put what’s on my mind with words. As my bag is on the floor next to my feet, my iPod is being charged with this laptop as I am preparing myself for my 3 km run in an attempt to shed the remaining fat, frustration and pain. I know what ever I’ll write will suck and I know my English and probably my Arabic will be rubbish but I have decided to get on back to blogging. I don’t know what the point is though, but does it have to have a point? Beside, what’s the point with anything that’s going on with my life recently? What’s the point with all my work from morning to night? What’s the point of those bullets being shot out of the helicopter over my roof? Back to blogging, it could be a good attempt to regain control back, the little bit I managed to keep from myself. I promise myself I will post this as soon as I and the electricity are back. Peace!
26 Oct 2011
26 Oct
On the brown, plain playground in the school close to my house, children are chanting for “Abu Hafez”, a group of children are gathering on the corner playing with a poor bird with a broken wing, a group of older girls beating up a small boy, 2 mukhabart cars outside as usual and I am just drinking more and more coffee and reading articles – it is painful to be on the margin of a homeland, ووطن.
15 May 2011
14 Oct 2010
Eternal Punishment
"That thing of hell and eternal punishment is the most absurd, as well as the most disagreeable thought that ever entered into the head of mortal man."
George Berkeley
George Berkeley
17 Jul 2010
25 Jun 2010
Enchanting Melody
When you decide to give up the ghost...
Every thing else follows
Even in midst of wildest chaos ...
* Henry Miller - Tropic of cancer
23 Mar 2010
Learning Curve
So what has changed…?
I don’t dislike the sun any more rather I only like it when raise up my head to face it when winter is falling every now and then, while reading a quiet book in Mar Mousa Monastery.
I don’t hate Fridays no more, but learned how to avoid them.
I planned to do a solo road trip to mid Europe this fall
I discovered that I am in love with Goethe
I learned how to pack and leave when colours disappear from a place. i.e. a relationship
I discovered that I never get bored!
I like blue and gray Pyjamas
My bag will never be in order
I hate people who take photos next to their cars
I can never do meditation with Sikh People.
My profession depends on disasters and wars.
“We” can’t be a true word as it doesn’t consider individuality.
I hate TV
I like Bjork
I realised basic elements in life… finally!
I like how walking with socks on a wooden floor feels
I like how old books smell
I am still learning, and life is still as exciting as it was to me when I was 7 years old!
Oh… and I really miss blogosphere!
I don’t dislike the sun any more rather I only like it when raise up my head to face it when winter is falling every now and then, while reading a quiet book in Mar Mousa Monastery.
I don’t hate Fridays no more, but learned how to avoid them.
I planned to do a solo road trip to mid Europe this fall
I discovered that I am in love with Goethe
I learned how to pack and leave when colours disappear from a place. i.e. a relationship
I discovered that I never get bored!
I like blue and gray Pyjamas
My bag will never be in order
I hate people who take photos next to their cars
I can never do meditation with Sikh People.
My profession depends on disasters and wars.
“We” can’t be a true word as it doesn’t consider individuality.
I hate TV
I like Bjork
I realised basic elements in life… finally!
I like how walking with socks on a wooden floor feels
I like how old books smell
I am still learning, and life is still as exciting as it was to me when I was 7 years old!
Oh… and I really miss blogosphere!
29 Nov 2009
Documentation
Today… out of boredom and in one of those “need to organize something” moments, I decided to organize all the things in my room and get rid of everything that lost its meaning or use in my life.
I am not a “keep it for memory” kind of a person, the only things I keep are my scrap books and even these are thrown away in the trash more often when they bring bad memories or remind me of bad state of mind ,better to say self loathing and confusion… I find it pathetic to keep those things that provoke memories but apparently, that’s what I do.
today I found things I didn’t know they exist, pieces of papers which has poems which I’ve written 8 years ago, I used to write to newspapers and get so excited when they publish them, letters from my penpal Shayma from Iraq, we met through kids magazine “mijalet majed” which I used to read till I was 13, last letter I received from her was in 2000, she was telling me about her failing to go to medical school but she started her uni in Biological studies, I wonder what happened to her, did she survive the war? Did she finish her studies? Did she leave Iraq?.
I found photos of a school trip in the 8th grade, photos of friends who I have no idea where they are. I have 2 friends who we’ve been together since we were in the kindergarten, went to same school till highschool when we went to different schools. However, we kept our friendship, one of them has travelled to UK and is working there now, the other is married to a horrible doctor and has a gorgeous child, we used to make plans to run a way and live in the cherry castle… but we never did. I think we all are living in our own cherry castles in our own ways… I miss making plans with them.
Another thing I found and was shocking to me, 7 pages of anger, I wrote these when war started in Iraq and it’s full of anger and disgust, I remember those days clearly, I remember the smell of salad, my homework I was doing on that day, when Bagdad was invaded. How I am used to it now, to the idea of fatalities, to the idea of human corruption, how cold I’ve grown to become me!
I kept searching finding subway tickets when I was in London, something I’ve written when I was drunk for the first time in my life (2005), plans, lots of written plans, my worries and hopes, photos and post cards.
Why did I need to keep all of these, why did I felt the need to document all those memories, why did I feel weird and irritated to go through them? Why does it feel that I failed in something every time I go through memories? Why does it feel that I gave up on something every time I try to open my scrapbooks, hell… why do I keep a scrapbook in the first place?
I am not a “keep it for memory” kind of a person, the only things I keep are my scrap books and even these are thrown away in the trash more often when they bring bad memories or remind me of bad state of mind ,better to say self loathing and confusion… I find it pathetic to keep those things that provoke memories but apparently, that’s what I do.
today I found things I didn’t know they exist, pieces of papers which has poems which I’ve written 8 years ago, I used to write to newspapers and get so excited when they publish them, letters from my penpal Shayma from Iraq, we met through kids magazine “mijalet majed” which I used to read till I was 13, last letter I received from her was in 2000, she was telling me about her failing to go to medical school but she started her uni in Biological studies, I wonder what happened to her, did she survive the war? Did she finish her studies? Did she leave Iraq?.
I found photos of a school trip in the 8th grade, photos of friends who I have no idea where they are. I have 2 friends who we’ve been together since we were in the kindergarten, went to same school till highschool when we went to different schools. However, we kept our friendship, one of them has travelled to UK and is working there now, the other is married to a horrible doctor and has a gorgeous child, we used to make plans to run a way and live in the cherry castle… but we never did. I think we all are living in our own cherry castles in our own ways… I miss making plans with them.
Another thing I found and was shocking to me, 7 pages of anger, I wrote these when war started in Iraq and it’s full of anger and disgust, I remember those days clearly, I remember the smell of salad, my homework I was doing on that day, when Bagdad was invaded. How I am used to it now, to the idea of fatalities, to the idea of human corruption, how cold I’ve grown to become me!
I kept searching finding subway tickets when I was in London, something I’ve written when I was drunk for the first time in my life (2005), plans, lots of written plans, my worries and hopes, photos and post cards.
Why did I need to keep all of these, why did I felt the need to document all those memories, why did I feel weird and irritated to go through them? Why does it feel that I failed in something every time I go through memories? Why does it feel that I gave up on something every time I try to open my scrapbooks, hell… why do I keep a scrapbook in the first place?
23 Nov 2009
Children and Rights
According to the Syrian Arab Republic UN Development Assistance Framework, It is estimated that up to 26% of children in poor urban families are working.Child labor is one of the worst violations of child rights, and the most vulnerable to exploitation.
Additional to Syrian child labor, there are a growing number of Iraqi children who have been reported to drop-school and work in restaurants, factories, hotels and as domestic workers for girls for as little as 200 S.P or less per week. In such work places, children are forced to forget all about childhood, all about the "rights" convention that everybody is celebrating, and are being subjects for violent, harrasment and trauma.
Happy 20th Anniversary for signing the Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC)!
Additional to Syrian child labor, there are a growing number of Iraqi children who have been reported to drop-school and work in restaurants, factories, hotels and as domestic workers for girls for as little as 200 S.P or less per week. In such work places, children are forced to forget all about childhood, all about the "rights" convention that everybody is celebrating, and are being subjects for violent, harrasment and trauma.
Happy 20th Anniversary for signing the Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC)!
UNICEF - Convention on the Rights of the Child - Using the Convention and Protocols for children
UNICEF - Convention on the Rights of the Child - Using the Convention and Protocols for children
International human rights instruments such as the Convention on the Rights of the Child and its Optional Protocols are negotiated among United Nations Member States and are legally binding on the individual States that become parties to the instrument. There are two ways for a State to become a party: by signature and ratification or by accession.
In ratifying the Convention or an Optional Protocol, a State accepts an obligation to respect, protect, promote and fulfil the enumerated rights—including by adopting or changing laws and policies that implement the provisions of the Convention or Protocol.
The Convention places equal emphasis on all of the rights for children. There is no such thing as a 'small' right and no hierarchy of human rights. These rights are indivisible and interrelated, with a focus on the child as a whole. Governmental decisions with regard to any one right must be made in the light of all the other rights in the Convention.
Governments that ratify the Convention or one of its Optional Protocols must report to the Committee on the Rights of the Child, the body of experts charged with monitoring States' implementation of the Convention and Optional Protocols. These reports outline the situation of children in the country and explain the measures taken by the State to realize their rights. In its reviews of States’ reports, the Committee urges all levels of government to use the Convention as a guide in policymaking and implementation. And because the protection of human rights is by nature a permanent and endless process, there is always room for improvement.
Posted using ShareThis
International human rights instruments such as the Convention on the Rights of the Child and its Optional Protocols are negotiated among United Nations Member States and are legally binding on the individual States that become parties to the instrument. There are two ways for a State to become a party: by signature and ratification or by accession.
In ratifying the Convention or an Optional Protocol, a State accepts an obligation to respect, protect, promote and fulfil the enumerated rights—including by adopting or changing laws and policies that implement the provisions of the Convention or Protocol.
The Convention places equal emphasis on all of the rights for children. There is no such thing as a 'small' right and no hierarchy of human rights. These rights are indivisible and interrelated, with a focus on the child as a whole. Governmental decisions with regard to any one right must be made in the light of all the other rights in the Convention.
Governments that ratify the Convention or one of its Optional Protocols must report to the Committee on the Rights of the Child, the body of experts charged with monitoring States' implementation of the Convention and Optional Protocols. These reports outline the situation of children in the country and explain the measures taken by the State to realize their rights. In its reviews of States’ reports, the Committee urges all levels of government to use the Convention as a guide in policymaking and implementation. And because the protection of human rights is by nature a permanent and endless process, there is always room for improvement.
Posted using ShareThis
20 Nov 2009
Friday
Do you know these moments, when lying in bed late Friday morning, when after long hour of thinking about how dissatisfying your life is to you? And out of a sudden, you tell yourself to suck it up, and jump out of your bed to meet your friends over a cup of coffee and a sum of Blah blah blah conversations?
Friday has been always a day of emptiness to me; whatever I try to do; whomever I try to meet, it has always been a freaking Friday to me, but this Friday, by all means...was the worst.
From Sunday till Thursday I try to go on with life, 9 hrs of work, hang out with friends, try to get myself busy with all types of whatever activities are happening in evenings; I get home late, talk to mum, watch news, tired and empty I go to bed, think of work, put lists, write reports, read reports till I am sleeping, dreamless, feelingless I wake up, and off to another day.
I got my dream job not long ago, good position in an international NGO, doing interesting things but being sucked into the system. when I realize myself in the little moments of silence, I have those moments of little revolution which usually never survives the day. and I go on...
I love my job, don't get me wrong... I'm gaining loads of experice every day, but the passion that I've lost keeps kicking and screaming every now and then, and mostly...on Fridays.
On Fridays, I realize the emptyness, I lose the ability to resist being there all alone, try to regain what's left of passion, what's left to me... of me, things have became pretty ugly and meaningless lately, and I wont be surprised if blogging will be too much for my uninspired brain, as I quit on many things before, as I quit on love and desires, as I quit on all my childesh dreams, as I am growing up... it doesn't feel like me any more.
Sadly, I have been sucked to the machine, I am dreamless and unhappy, uninspired and still confused. I feel betrayed by my own desire to get in touch with my feelings, to understand the constant dissatisfaction and to gain all meanings back.
Friday has been always a day of emptiness to me; whatever I try to do; whomever I try to meet, it has always been a freaking Friday to me, but this Friday, by all means...was the worst.
From Sunday till Thursday I try to go on with life, 9 hrs of work, hang out with friends, try to get myself busy with all types of whatever activities are happening in evenings; I get home late, talk to mum, watch news, tired and empty I go to bed, think of work, put lists, write reports, read reports till I am sleeping, dreamless, feelingless I wake up, and off to another day.
I got my dream job not long ago, good position in an international NGO, doing interesting things but being sucked into the system. when I realize myself in the little moments of silence, I have those moments of little revolution which usually never survives the day. and I go on...
I love my job, don't get me wrong... I'm gaining loads of experice every day, but the passion that I've lost keeps kicking and screaming every now and then, and mostly...on Fridays.
On Fridays, I realize the emptyness, I lose the ability to resist being there all alone, try to regain what's left of passion, what's left to me... of me, things have became pretty ugly and meaningless lately, and I wont be surprised if blogging will be too much for my uninspired brain, as I quit on many things before, as I quit on love and desires, as I quit on all my childesh dreams, as I am growing up... it doesn't feel like me any more.
Sadly, I have been sucked to the machine, I am dreamless and unhappy, uninspired and still confused. I feel betrayed by my own desire to get in touch with my feelings, to understand the constant dissatisfaction and to gain all meanings back.
9 Nov 2009
When God quit
In one cloudy morning, people around the world woke up on the holiest voice ever, the voice said:
“Dear sons and daughters, gather all, I have something to say”
So, people dropped their coffees, children dropped their school bags, even policemen in white or blue or what ever color they’re wearing stopped waving with their hands and looked up.
Then, the voice said:
“look, I created you all, and now things went out of control, so, I will go and leave you guys alone, deal with your mess and don’t leave any thing hanging for my justice or for my permission or will, no hell, no heaven, no rules, create your own morals, I need to go away and try to find a new universe to create. So, from now on, deal with all the mess and I am quitting…!”
And the voice disappeared with the sweetest holiest music ever.
What would we do now?
How about taking care of the world we fucked up by all means?
Or maybe… just maybe... actually do something about what’s happening in Palestine rather than waiting for God’s will or for when our prayers will be answered?!
Or…or how about this, we actually THINK about morals, about laws, about logic about justice rather than do what we've been told to?
Next time, when we help someone, we will be happy and satisfied because we did the right thing, not because we'd be immortals in heave?!. How about that?!
But you know what?
You know what we'd do?
We would create yet another God…
Things are slow at work today.
Cheers all!
*with all respect to all religions, believers and non-believers.
“Dear sons and daughters, gather all, I have something to say”
So, people dropped their coffees, children dropped their school bags, even policemen in white or blue or what ever color they’re wearing stopped waving with their hands and looked up.
Then, the voice said:
“look, I created you all, and now things went out of control, so, I will go and leave you guys alone, deal with your mess and don’t leave any thing hanging for my justice or for my permission or will, no hell, no heaven, no rules, create your own morals, I need to go away and try to find a new universe to create. So, from now on, deal with all the mess and I am quitting…!”
And the voice disappeared with the sweetest holiest music ever.
What would we do now?
How about taking care of the world we fucked up by all means?
Or maybe… just maybe... actually do something about what’s happening in Palestine rather than waiting for God’s will or for when our prayers will be answered?!
Or…or how about this, we actually THINK about morals, about laws, about logic about justice rather than do what we've been told to?
Next time, when we help someone, we will be happy and satisfied because we did the right thing, not because we'd be immortals in heave?!. How about that?!
But you know what?
You know what we'd do?
We would create yet another God…
Things are slow at work today.
Cheers all!
*with all respect to all religions, believers and non-believers.
4 Nov 2009
Bethlehem University Student taken to Gaza against her will
Earlier on 28th oct, Berlanty Azzam, a 4th year student enrolled at Bethlehem University, majoring in Business Administration with a minor in Translation, was arrested at a check point and was deported to Gaza denying her her right to learn.
According to Bethlehem University, on Wednesday night 28th Oc at 11:00pm the Israeli military loaded Berlanty into a military jeep blindfolded and handcuffed and moved her from Bethlehem to Gaza against her will.
Bethlehem University
According to Bethlehem University, on Wednesday night 28th Oc at 11:00pm the Israeli military loaded Berlanty into a military jeep blindfolded and handcuffed and moved her from Bethlehem to Gaza against her will.
Bethlehem University
1 Nov 2009
Ethics
"I do not believe in immortality of the individual, and I consider ethics to be an exclusively human concern with no superhuman authority behind it. "
Albert Einstein
Albert Einstein
15 Sept 2009
Blogging week against the inferior looks to stray cats -أسبوع التدوين ضد النظرات الدونية للقطط الشاردة
Launched by Abufares, the new blogging week is spreading creatively and brilliantly among fellow Anglo bloggers. As I am going through a create-less uninspiring week, all I can think of lately is the way we “Humans” who are so selfish, egotistic and insecure look down at straight cats.
Cats do have feelings and they do have dreams, ambitions, fears, maybe different from ours but that doesn’t make them less significant. That is something we must consider whenever we pass by a cat.
Once, I was heading to work, feeling so sick and was having a severe headache... in a desperate move I pushed my hand into my big bag trying to reach my mini-pharmacy in hope to make the pain go away, a cat was looking at me with an attitude, I didn’t pay much attention to him/her and I just walked passed him/her. She walked beside me for a minute and then stopped. She gave me a sympathetic look that I’ll never ever forget.
Cats do have personalities, so, whenever you are passing by them don’t underestimate their existence and don’t you ever think that your existence is more important than theirs; I don’t care about your reasons or logic. Cats deserve the look of respect.
That is one thing. Something else that really annoys me is when people use the word “animal” in order to show anger or irritation toward someone. That is so unfair to animals.
Let’s take those assholes for example; do you really think that calling them animals is fair to animals? Animals will never be so stupid and arrogant, call those assholes, jerks, idiots, fucked up – sick- robots –that might be a bit unfair to robots too- but anyway, do not call them animals.
Animals and cats precisely deserve our respect for minding their own business and for their struggling to exist without trying to end other’s existence, if only we can learn from these morals...
Cats do have feelings and they do have dreams, ambitions, fears, maybe different from ours but that doesn’t make them less significant. That is something we must consider whenever we pass by a cat.
Once, I was heading to work, feeling so sick and was having a severe headache... in a desperate move I pushed my hand into my big bag trying to reach my mini-pharmacy in hope to make the pain go away, a cat was looking at me with an attitude, I didn’t pay much attention to him/her and I just walked passed him/her. She walked beside me for a minute and then stopped. She gave me a sympathetic look that I’ll never ever forget.
Cats do have personalities, so, whenever you are passing by them don’t underestimate their existence and don’t you ever think that your existence is more important than theirs; I don’t care about your reasons or logic. Cats deserve the look of respect.
That is one thing. Something else that really annoys me is when people use the word “animal” in order to show anger or irritation toward someone. That is so unfair to animals.
Let’s take those assholes for example; do you really think that calling them animals is fair to animals? Animals will never be so stupid and arrogant, call those assholes, jerks, idiots, fucked up – sick- robots –that might be a bit unfair to robots too- but anyway, do not call them animals.
Animals and cats precisely deserve our respect for minding their own business and for their struggling to exist without trying to end other’s existence, if only we can learn from these morals...
12 Sept 2009
Peace of Mind
هل لديك الصبر لتنتظر؟
حتى يستقر الوحل و يصفو الماء؟
هل يمكنك أن تظل بلا حراك؟
This feeling of silence, as holly as his smile and as quiet as the corner stone which is smiling boldly at all passing creatures...
I walk along the wall, covered with jasmine yet to be born, traffic lights change within restricted colours, and I breathe all the dust in and all the heat.
Car lights suck in all the colours of a dying summer.
I’m so damn stable and settled down, my brain is senseless and so is the noise.
I try to sleep but fail to close an eye
I try to feel but feelings are blocked outside
Peace, ugly peace, silent peace of mind, damn peace of mind..
Waiting for this ugly phase to pass, I am creating new ways to tie my shoes got new colorful ties for all my old converses, listening to PF and waiting...
حتى يستقر الوحل و يصفو الماء؟
هل يمكنك أن تظل بلا حراك؟
This feeling of silence, as holly as his smile and as quiet as the corner stone which is smiling boldly at all passing creatures...
I walk along the wall, covered with jasmine yet to be born, traffic lights change within restricted colours, and I breathe all the dust in and all the heat.
Car lights suck in all the colours of a dying summer.
I’m so damn stable and settled down, my brain is senseless and so is the noise.
I try to sleep but fail to close an eye
I try to feel but feelings are blocked outside
Peace, ugly peace, silent peace of mind, damn peace of mind..
Waiting for this ugly phase to pass, I am creating new ways to tie my shoes got new colorful ties for all my old converses, listening to PF and waiting...
28 Aug 2009
In Control
It just sounds meaningless, standing from the above observing, all those feelings of joy and despair. We all are made of dreams, fragile and yet extremely powerful. I am a God and so you are and so is everyone passing by, we are Gods trying to understand and trying desperately to be understood, to be heard and to just ... be in control.
Today I was standing on a high cliff, enjoying a spectacular view of the city, and just then and for a moment; I felt an urge to jump. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t wanna commit suicide, not in my future plans anyway, but this... this mixed feeling of fear and courage, fear of fatality yet the strong powerful urge to be in control of my own existence, of my being and the world around.
On my way back home, a man-taxi-driver wanted to pass my car, there was no way I’m gonna let him do it. He had no right to do that in a crowded narrow street while we both are equally driving on the same speed. He was furious, he shouted things about women and driving, I couldn’t hear him very well, my window was closed and Oasis were loud enough to stop the noise from the outside. That taxi driver was in need to control, to rule in his world which he thought he owned, a sick “male- domination” world, where he can controls easily for the merely privilege of having testosterone running with his blood.
Salma, a 30 years old girl diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy since she was 2 years old, she is a patient at the homecare, she’s lived there since then and with the lack of awareness, resources and care toward such cases, she was never educated or experienced the life out there, outside the homecare walls. She stays in that room with 4 other children and watches T.V all day long. Salma has learned more than anyone expected from her to learn. When someone stops by her bed, he must lower his voice because “Loloo” her daughter – a toy made of fabric” is sleeping next to her. She’s creating her own world where she’s in a total control. She is a gorgeous mother with the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.
Somer, a 12 years old, Iraqi refugee child, never been in School since he fled Iraq 5 years ago, he collected 75 S.P to buy a red pen and a note book, he wants to write his diaries, wanting to be in control of the past as he is incapable of being in control his future.
Sarah, a friend of mine, since she bought her new camera, never spent an evening at home, she loves taking photos of her daily life routine, capturing the moment, controlling time.
We all have our own tiny ways of keeping in control, for things that mean to us. We all are Gods in so many different ways. We created religions, systems, dreams, fears and memories... and we keep building and keep destroying.
Today I was standing on a high cliff, enjoying a spectacular view of the city, and just then and for a moment; I felt an urge to jump. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t wanna commit suicide, not in my future plans anyway, but this... this mixed feeling of fear and courage, fear of fatality yet the strong powerful urge to be in control of my own existence, of my being and the world around.
On my way back home, a man-taxi-driver wanted to pass my car, there was no way I’m gonna let him do it. He had no right to do that in a crowded narrow street while we both are equally driving on the same speed. He was furious, he shouted things about women and driving, I couldn’t hear him very well, my window was closed and Oasis were loud enough to stop the noise from the outside. That taxi driver was in need to control, to rule in his world which he thought he owned, a sick “male- domination” world, where he can controls easily for the merely privilege of having testosterone running with his blood.
Salma, a 30 years old girl diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy since she was 2 years old, she is a patient at the homecare, she’s lived there since then and with the lack of awareness, resources and care toward such cases, she was never educated or experienced the life out there, outside the homecare walls. She stays in that room with 4 other children and watches T.V all day long. Salma has learned more than anyone expected from her to learn. When someone stops by her bed, he must lower his voice because “Loloo” her daughter – a toy made of fabric” is sleeping next to her. She’s creating her own world where she’s in a total control. She is a gorgeous mother with the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.
Somer, a 12 years old, Iraqi refugee child, never been in School since he fled Iraq 5 years ago, he collected 75 S.P to buy a red pen and a note book, he wants to write his diaries, wanting to be in control of the past as he is incapable of being in control his future.
Sarah, a friend of mine, since she bought her new camera, never spent an evening at home, she loves taking photos of her daily life routine, capturing the moment, controlling time.
We all have our own tiny ways of keeping in control, for things that mean to us. We all are Gods in so many different ways. We created religions, systems, dreams, fears and memories... and we keep building and keep destroying.
22 Aug 2009
ملاحظة هامشية بلا أهمية
لما بتمشي بأي بلد, بأي شارع, بأي حارة بتلاحظ شي
كلما علت أصوات تلفزيوناتهن....انخفضت اصواتهن
ووين صواتهن
راحت صواتن
31 Jul 2009
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