Wednesday, October 17, 2012

تتساءل مغتربة


بالرغم من الدمار و التقتيل و التشريد الذي يعاني منه الشعب السوري اليوم، إلا انو نحن على يقين بأن ما يحصل معهم بالداخل لحكمة، و انهم الأن يُعدون و يهيئون لأمر عظيم، الله أعلم شو هو هاد الأمر.. العالم كله داخل على مرحلة عصيبة، الغرب فلس و هو على وشك الإنهيار، و الكل فايت بسبمعيت حيط. قد يكون ما يحصل لنا هو مرحلة إعداد لإستقبال الفترة القادمة برجال و نساء على قدر من المسؤولية و الإيمان.. قد يكون أمر أخر.. الله أعلم. بس أكيد يلي عم يصير لخيرنا و مصلحتنا. 
"أمر المؤمن كله خير"
"و عسى ان تكرهوا شيئاً و هو خير لكم" 
 السؤال هون.. نحن شو موقعنا من الإعراب؟ نحن المغتربين؟
لا يكاد يمر يوم إلا و أغبط أهل الداخل على ما فُضّلوا به من شرف الدفاع عن الحق في زمن ضاعت معالم الحق فيه. من خلال هذا عم يتربوا و يتهيئوا و عم يشتد صلبهم حتى يصبحوا مع الوقت قوة لا يستهان بها.. و نحن المغتربين قاعدين على بعد أميال عم نتفرج، ندعيلهم، ننشر أخبارهم، نذرف دموعاً عليهم، ولكننا على بعد أميـــــال.. 
نحلم بهجر حياتنا التي اعتدنا عليها لنلتحق بهم.. لكن هذه الأحلام تظل أحلام، و تصطدم بواقع العجز.. و تبدأ بطرح الأسئلة على نفسك 
"لو نزلت، شو بدي أعمل؟"
"لو نزلت رح كون عالة عليهن؟"
"رح أعرف اتصرف؟"
"شو رح فيد؟"
بس هل في يوم من الأيام سألنا الأسئلة المعاكسة؟ لو نزلت انا شو رح استفيد؟ لو نزلت - و حتى لو استشهدت- انا رح كون الكسبان؟ لو ما فدت حدا على الأقل رح كون هونيك، رح كون جزء من ما يحصل، جزء من التاريخ؟ 
هي أفكار أنانية بعض الشيء.. لكنها أفكار تراودني دوماً.. و دمتم.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

I'm still here.. I'm still alive. Not that it should be of any concern to anyone.

Thursday, March 29, 2012

..

.. to live in a place where you no longer have to defend yourself and your beliefs or to justify your behavior. To live with people who share the exact same goals as you, and would work with you, together, in a civilized manner towards achieving these goals. To live freely, with enough space for you to grow and learn, and your spirit to flourish... to belong to a place you can wholeheartedly call home.


..is that too much to ask for?

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Of Last Year

My relationship with writing is a very ironic one. The purpose of writing is to communicate thoughts and ideas to readers, express a feeling, tell a story.. etc. With me, it's quite the opposite.

When I'm going through a phase of mental hibernation, and the state of my mind is like that of a blank white sheet .. my words flow spontaneously, creating a world of their own. In this world, they tell their own stories and expressing their own feelings, share their own thoughts and present their own ideas. They force themselves out of me, seeking an independent life on empty pages, far from the influence of my own thought. 

However, when my mind is experiencing genuine activity, and real thoughts start forming inside of me, desperate to get out, my words would refuse to release them, nor give them a voice. They remain there inside of me, voiceless and abandoned, they grow and grow, forming a volcano that erupts silently.. simply because my words desert me in my time of need.

Many, many small volcanoes have formed inside of me since I last wrote. But those ones are refusing to erupt silently. Yet, I find myself still struggling with my unresponsive words..

Last year has been a very challenging one, both on a personal and a general level, and it had left me with so much that needed to be said.

Throughout the happenings of that year, I found myself being constantly confronted with concepts that were very new to me. Ones that I thought have died long before I existed. I also had to face a personal dilemma that I have been trying to avoid facing for so long. A matter of identity, the illusion I have knowingly been living in, the Syrian uprising, the state of uncertainty, the fear of what is yet to come..
All of these are connected to one another in a very bizarre way.

where do I fit in all of this? 




The events of last year caught me, and most of us, by surprise. It's evident that the lifestyle we have been living by is changing, and that we are now witnessing the birth of a new era in modern history. We are heading towards the unknown. Everything is changing, power around the world is shifting, and that lifestyle of ours as we know it might not survive this shift of powers.

..and amidst this hurricane of change is 'me', a small, insignificant, home-less individual, who had learned to hope for the first time in her life. 

All of this.. and many other thoughts have been occupying my mind and are crying out, desperately seeking to be released onto a blank page in the form of writing..
I will not ignore these cries, I will keep on struggling with my words until I win them over again..


Many volcanoes have formed inside of me since I last wrote.. many thoughts and feelings that need to be expressed, many fears that need to be addressed, many dreams that need to be nurtured.. and many.. many words that need to be uttered..