2015 war backstage!

Warning: this article isn’t for people who personally know me.

Why? Will you  just be a little bit more patient? I can hear the movement of your facial muscles drawing a funny puzzled face while getting closer to the screen. Back off for the sake of your eyes’ health.

I am an optimistic person most of the time, I see the full part of the glass, and say “I’m sure it’s going to be okay” more than any other phrase… etc., etc.

But recently I am so scared and as much I try to cover my worries with colors and music they won’t go away, they  only get more intense penetrating my dreams and making holes in my brain where these worries could lay eggs that will then hatch into nightmare little Zionist-like monsters.

At home, school, streets,  caps  and everywhere my family, friends, colleagues and strangers all decided to be augurs predicting about the “coming war” scenarios  as if it’s a sequel for something they are fangerling about. I even heard Some people saying “but I don’t want it to be in the summer or our vacation will be ruined AGAIN!” HOLY Jerusalem! When did wars become a normal part of our lives? Does it take three wars to make it a life habit? Is it something we wait for like waiting for Ramadan, spring or any holiday?

Obviously, I am not a master in getting over wars. The 2014 war isn’t over yet (at least for me) as all the sparse rubbles stand like a blinding reminder. The first thing I see when I leave home is our neighbors’ 3-floors-brought-down-to-the-ground-by-three-rockets. Every day I timelessly stare at it wishing that when I come home I will find  the municipality had it removed to let the spring flowers breathe hope and life into the area.

Surviving a war (3 in my case) isn’t as happy as it sounds. It’s not like dancing under a rainbow after you had run for your life underneath a sky knitted with fiery-orange threads of the burning sun of August, white threads of drones, dark gray threads of warplanes and whatever-the-color-is threads of missiles.  I don’t think I have learned the right words to describe it yet. But I’ll keep learning and trying to get you to understand.

picture: Mahmoud Elkourd

As a result of the “ogres” (yes, because they are freaking me out) anticipations I started to waste most of the day observing things around me, thinking what if I lost that in the presumed coming war? I don’t want to regret not giving enough time to my neighborhood. I’m looking at every home like a mother saying goodbye to her son before he goes to the war (even though probably he will be on a plane pushing buttons to release tons of explosive materials.)

To be completely honest what haunts me the most is to survive again