HOW TO DESERVE IT?

Heart

2010-04-18T00:03:00.002-04:00

اين قلبي في زمان لا قلب له .... و هواي اني لا هوى لي...

كل المدن التي زرتها لا تشابهني ...

و الاكف التي صافحتها زرعت ثلجاً بقلبي...

لكني ساحيا في اي مكان يقبلني دون ان يلبسني اقنعة و يفصل لي ابعاد ايماني و شكي..

و ساصافح الايدي التي لا تقلم اظفاري و لا تقطع كفي...

________________

اين قلبي... في زمان يحيا به الناس بلا ذاكرة...

تتبدل المحبة و الكراهية مع نشرة الاخبار...

و يدور الولاء و تدور الرؤوس حسب إعلام النفط و بوصلة الدينار..

_________________

أين قلبي و ما هواي و ما ولائي إن كنت لا اكل ما تثمر اشجارٌ لم تشرب غير الدم

لا ادري .. فانا لا أؤمن بالموت...

و لا ارغب ان أصبح قرباناً فالاوطان التي لا تاكل إلا بشراً لا تستطيع للعيش

و الاوطان التي لا تعبد إلا ابطالاً حتى لو كانو اوغاداً لا تصلح للعيش

The storm

2010-02-05T18:52:00.001-05:00

I was watching the storm. I put my shades up to let the storm in.
Trees look white. The air is white just like the sky, the ground and almost everything I can see from my window. Is the storm wiping out the scene to let it form again.

Another storm is in my heart and my head. The storm is pushing me to get out of this road. Dare me to change my life one more time. Take over the driver seat and make the turn. I don't want to look back at this moment and regret that I was too afraid to make a turn. I am tired of darkness I am tired of looking for security. I hate the way money controls people lives in this country. Did I survive to do this? Is that what my life worth? Is that what I want to do, actually, is that all I can do? There is more in life than financial security, I don't even have that.

My life was so expensive. Whether I was picked to live or whether it was random that I survived. I owe it to those who didn't make it to live a life that make sense to me.

2009-10-02T15:14:00.001-04:00

تسير القوافل و تنبح الكلاب
اتمنى يا وطني بعد ان تسكن العاصفه
ان لا تبقى وحيدا في الصحراء
بعد ان ترحل القافله و تصمت الكلاب...

رحيل

2009-09-13T23:38:00.001-04:00

مدن مسكونة بالرحيل و قلوب تدمن الوحده
مدن مسكونة بالنحيب و قلوب تدمن الذكرى
مدن مسكونة بالوهم و قلوب تدمن العمى

أيها الحب الذي لا يسكن مدنا
أيها الموت الذي لا يعرف الحب
أيها الحلم الذي لا يفهم الموت
ايتها المدن التي لا تملك قلب

ان لا انتمي ليس عيب ... العيب ان ادمن انتمائي

لم اعد اذكر في اي زمان ولدت يخيل الي انه زمان منقرض اللغة ممسوح التاريخ... يخيل لي أني قد عشت طويلا جداً حتى أني لم اعد ابالي ما يمكن ان يأتي على ظهر الغد... لم اعد افهم لماذا هذا الزمن واقف مثل صنم لا يجرؤ على تحطيمه احد...

Violated Privacy

2009-09-03T07:23:00.001-04:00

I woke up at 4am. Yesterday it was 3am.
I don't mind. It is peaceful though the silence somtimes is heavier and as unbearable as noise is.
I moved to new apartment and I can't find my way in the kitchen yet. I actually moved to new city and don't know my way around yet.

It is weird writing here I thought of starting new blog somewhere else but it didn't make sence to me anymore. I felt that I needed my privacy back. I do need my privacy back but there is nothing I can do about it and starting some other place will not change what had happened.

It hurt so much when overnight my parents had to leave the house in Dec 2006 I cried for a month for the house I love and didn't think that I will ever leave, I always felt it was mine and I will grow old and die there. It is one thing to leave and another thing to be forced out of your house.

Because my family believe that I can't handle bad news well they kept me in the dark after the house issue. I had to know by chance that my cousin died. There is a lot I still don't know even after the horrible things they finally told me last spring and summer. Our house was a weapons' storage and was used as operation base for a while by .... By who? ... By what we call in Iraq "them". It took me several minutes to process the idea that where I lived is where death orders were sent or where people died. I always thought of walls as memories savors, I thought I could touch those walls anytime and feel the good times, see images and hear sounds stored there among those briks. Now other things are there too.
it hit me after a while when my mom was telling me and I panicked "mom! Did they break into my room?" what a stupid question

"dear, they didn't need to break doors" mom said " it was already broken by americans and the army. All windows were broken either by army or explosions"

" did they use my room, did they touch my stuff"

" how are you thinking" she was absolutly right how was I thinking " every thing was broken and turned up side down... Books were all over the place torn and....."

"mom! My papers.. My notes my diaries.. The two boxes.. Did you really leave them there"

"oh!! They are fine" like she realized she spoke more than she should have. And I was suppose to believe my mom telling me that in all this mess when my books were all over the place they didn't touch two boxes of notes and papers underneath. How was she thinking?

When I was 14 I decided to write more. I decided to write everything with a no boundry rule.. Stupid idea I got from reading too much. I thought that I needed to be strong enough to face my thoughts amd look at myself on a peace of paper. I was brave to do just that I was foolish to do just that. There was a day were I wrote 17 pages. I was smart enough in colege to envent my own charachters to write but it was slow and annoying. I wrote less and less with time. I burned little whenever I had a chance but still there was a lot left behind.

I know this for a year now and it still hurt. Still bothers me each time I want to write. They could know more than enough I left a trace of every step in those boxes even photos. They could easily be reading my blog, if they can read English, hope not.

It is almost 7 I have to go to work soon. I was writing in bed in the dark with a not so smart phone that usually changes my words and I do enough on my own mixing letters. This phone sometimes changes too much it has oneday changed my sister's name when I was writing to her into some word that means pee and I did not even notice.

Coffee

2009-03-24T01:56:00.000-04:00

Running away.... and you keep chasing me... running away into the crowed...
the noise would keep me busy but there is a quiet end for all sounds...
and it is then when you show up stronger than fate... stronger than the will of life... stronger than my ability to forget...

It is amazing how much I can forget that it seems to me sometimes that I have no memory as if all my history is one day, though details can fade with time there are things that don't go away... there are feelings that stay stored fresh and young forever... I discovered that they are coded in everything around me maybe that what keep them alive... There are reasons why in the old times people connected magic and spells with certain words... are there codes between the dead and those who are alive? are there codes connect the two worlds? why did I knew when my cousin died even though they kept it secret from me for almost 2 months. It was scary just to know that it wasn't illusion. it was real... someone's soul greeted me on the way to the dark world. I panicked as much as I was sad.
My experience that day six years ago left marks deep inside me in many parts of my life. those hours I was lost between the two worlds of life and death. I never stopped wondering how did is effect my family. it is so weird that we never talked about it. we never shared what did it mean to each one of us.. I tried (dared) to bring it up with my mom once, her face changed, just mentioning it brought so much fear and gloom to her and she refused to to talk. she gave me a look of blame as if I opened the box where all demons hide. since then I kept my curiosity to myself and never crossed that line again. I know that the way that day changed us was not the same. She can pray.

...........................

I am drinking coffee!! I am not a coffee person at all. I am just drinking coffee since the morning. I am exhausted but I can't sleep.

Going back to "words"

2009-03-12T14:21:00.003-04:00

I lost my connection and passion in writing , it is hard to build it back.. I lost the joy... I lost the fun of making a story or writing a poem about things that doesn't mean anything to me. I lost it since war.. I need it now... I am wondering whether I should take some writing class.

Head

2009-01-18T16:26:00.003-05:00

لم يعد لي رأس
لا أتذكر كيف فقدت رأسي
هل سلبتني اياه العاصفه؟
هل سقط في البحر؟
هل سرقه الطاغيه ام طاحت به حريه الارهاب؟
هل نسيت رأسي في بغداد؟
اتراه مدفون في حديقه منزلي؟
قلبي يخبرني ان راسي مزروع في بيتي..
سينبت شجره
و تثمر الشجره رؤوس ...
اوزعها على اولائك الذين فقدوا رؤوسهم و اولائك الذين لم يلعنو يوماً برأس!
لكن من ذا في وطني يملك راس؟
فحتى نخيلنا صار مقطوع الرأس!
يخيل الي احياناً ان اولائك المحتفظون برؤوسهم مشكوك في وطنيتهم .. مشكوك في انتماءهم
فالوطن نفسه منذ سنين تحت المشرط في محاوله لاستئصال راسه
و هناك اشاعه انه سيخرج بلا ساقين
كي لا يهرب نحو الشمس.
Nov.25,08

2008-05-09T05:18:00.000-04:00

يتخافتون...مثل اللصوص بليله سوداء
اما الحمقى .... فهم هنالك فترشون الرمل عميَ يتصايحون
....
يتخافتون... مثل الذئاب يتسللون
و الحمقى ... يضربون الارض باقداهم حتى ينفطر الحجر و لا يتحركون
.....
يتهامسون ... بسكينه بيقضه يفرحون

و الحمقى... يهللون و يرقصون
يخبؤون العار تحت عباءة
و بنصرهم يتباركون
.....

2008-04-26T05:39:00.000-04:00

تداعبني خرافة ... تلحقها خرافه...
و يهرب من يدي يومي كقطره ماء..ثم يأتي الصبح يسلبني خرافات المساء
وأنا اعاند التاريخ و الواقع و انسج من خيوط الصبح وهماً يكبر مثل ظلي
يمنع الكابوس عني
فاذا غابت الشمس غطت خرافاتي السماء

.....
......
.....

الحلم يشبه الحب يكبر بسرعه بسذاجه..يشبه الدهشه التي تملأ طفل يراقب لاول مره طيور ملونه في قفص حتى يدرك ان تلك المخلوقات ليست سحريه. انا اؤمن ان اشياء كثيره تحدث حين نؤمن بان الطيور الملونه في القفص سحر. و ان قوس قزح هو الجسر الذي تعبر عليه الملائكه.
هنالك ايام ترفض ان تتركنا نتنفس مثل كابوس...مثل الايام التي عدت فيها للحياه لاراقب اخرين يموتون كل يوم..كنت اهرب لخيالات اخرين في كتب او الاحق حلماً متسلحه بيقين ان الطيور الملونه سحريه و اننا لو امنا بالسحر سنطير.. الغريب ان الامنيات الصغيره التي كنت اطاردها اخذت تتحقق و طرت معها باجنحه من حديد. الان احس من جديد اني لا استطيع التنفس و لا النوم...تنتشلني امنيات اخرى تملاء راسي فامر بالكوابيس و لا اراها... ابحث في اعماق طفولتي عن كل يقيني بالسحر علها تكبر تلك الاحلام المنثوره في رأسي مثل غبار... علي امر بهذه الايام دون ان اموت اختناقاً بكابوس...و علَي اقدر ان اصنع من احلامي اجنحه لاخرين يجرؤون على الحلم في وطن لا تعيش فيه سوى الكوابيس والذكريات الجميله

2008-04-24T20:50:00.000-04:00

I know it is not that dark... My eyes are just simply closed!

Sleepless

2008-03-31T07:55:00.000-04:00

It is 4 am. I can't sleep. It is the end of March and April is coming tomorrow. I hate April. I am depressed almost all the time since the 19th. I want to sleep without waking up sad. I miss home.

My crazy neighbor is knocking the door everyday complaining of her depression medication and her suicidal thoughts. Her parents were tired of her they let her live alone. She is not safe by herself. If her mother has only half of my mother's heart she wouldn't let her spend a minute alone looking for strangers to save her from herself.

I was watching the past days some news online time to time. It was all horrible but those few seconds video showed few militia men holding guns at a street corner. The helicopter shot them with one bomb. I wondered on April 2003 about how did they do it. How can a man watch people and shoot them like they did in my neighborhood? I watched how.

Will I ever kill someone in my life? I think it is the one thing that will make my life impossible. I have felt the anger of the dead, I heard them dying. It made me doubt that I've ever known God. The God I had in my imagination wouldn't watch only, not any of the other Gods in the imagination of all the people I heard of. I concluded that it is either none had really known God or there is no God. I do believe that there is God because I know that there is hell... I don't know about heaven. After war the hardest thing to eat was meat. Killing a bug, though I did it and still doing it, never as easy as it was before.. a bug, is still a life I am taking... a life I didn't give and I don't have the right to take. How can people kill? I don't know... I don't want to know. I think it is like anything you can learn how to do and get easier with time but I don't think it will be easier to live with at the end.

Will I just keep writing till I fall asleep? I would do it if it works but I know it won't.
I am warm in winter and cold in summer. I live in a quiet area. It is all I wanted for so many nights. I have it all but there is something painful with no name or face just doesn't let me sleep tonight.

خمس سنين

2008-03-19T23:55:00.000-04:00

خمس سنين مرت بلا وطن
خمس سنين مرت خارج الزمن
خمس سنين منذ ضاعت معاني الكلام و صارت كل لغات الارض نباح
.....
لم يمكن الفرح لغير القطط تلعب طول النهار و تاكل طول النهار دون ان تبالي بسقوط بغداد .. او سقوط القمر
....
عام و نصف و انا بعيدة عن وطني
شفيت من الخوف
و صرت انام طوال الليل
و احلم باشياء ليست كلها مرعبه
شفيت من اعراض الحرب ربما
الا تلك الرغبه في البكاء التي تخنقني كلما يمر قربي قطار او تمطر السماء
...
كنت هناك
رايت كل شيئ
سمعت كل شيئ
حتى لو فقدت ذاكرتي في يوم ستبقى الحرب مثل الوشم المرسوم بعيني
.....

هذا اليوم تمنيت لو كان الثلج اسود و لو كان المطر اسود
فبشاعة الحرب تكفي ان تصبغ الكرة اللارضية بالاسود
...

2008-02-09T13:24:00.000-05:00

يعض الصبح اصابعي و يوقضني
افتح عيني للضوء
و نافذتي للشمس

......

هذا النهار اريد ان اثرثر بلا مبالاة
اريد ان لا ابالي بالصاعدين في النفاق و النازلين في المهازل
اريد ان لا اُحشر في غير جلدي
و لا اصبغ
ولا اصلب
....

هذا النهار يسليني ان أشهر سأمي من"هم" و لا انتمائي
يسليني ان اثرثر عن لا شيئ ... أن اسقط الفراغ على صورة كلمات
كأن العالم المغلف بالثلج حولي ذاب...وذاك المحترق في الصحراء انطفأ
.....

أريد هذا النهار أن اعود لوعيي.. بلا غزو"هم" البربري على وجودي
و لاسخف"هم" الزاحف مثل سحلية على قضبان ايامي

امريكا بلا رب

2008-01-26T04:55:00.000-05:00

الآلهه لا تسكن هنا.. فامريكا لاتحتاج لرب
الآلهه تسكن بغداد تحس الهاً في كل خطوة
اله الغضب واله الحرب
اله الموت و اله الطوفان
اله الرحمه يظهر احياناً عشوائياً يختار فريسه من فراءس الآلهة الاخرى
ليمنحها معجزة النجاة
الآه الحب مات على أسوار بغداد منذ سنين
و الهة البركة و النمو و الخيرو العطاء فقدت الوهيتها
احتجاجاً على القرابين البشرية التي كانت تقدم لها كل يوم

عقارب

2008-01-15T00:03:00.000-05:00

ساعه تلو ساعه تركض عقارب الساعة مثل مطر بغدادي .. قوي .. سريع يطرق الارض بثقه و يحمل رائحة مميزة .. كرائحه حديقتي بعد أن أرشها بمطري المزيف

بي رغبه أن أشم رائحة حديقتي
بي رغبة للنحيب ... كأني شربت حزن كل النخيل الذي لايزال واقفاً و ذاك المقطوع الرأس
...

Broken Shells

2007-09-30T02:01:00.000-04:00

اخرج من شرانقي كلها

واترك الشمس و الريح تصفعني

فلربما

يطلع لي جناحان

و لربما اكتشف اني كنت طوال الوقت امتلكهما دون ان ادري

******

عندما ينزل دمعي

افقد كل اللغات الاخرى

وحتى صمتي يصبح عربي

*******

بي شوق لعين تراني فاستعيد طفولتي

واصابع ترسم بالوان لا يراها سواي حلم

وذاك الدفيء الذي يلفني

لكني

"اطوي هذه الصفحة من عمري و امضي"

كما طوت الحرب وطني

Roads

2007-08-23T11:56:00.000-04:00

خطاي تنجو من الأرض لتسقط في البحر.. يبلعني ...ابحث عن كف تمسكني فيتشبث بي الهواء.. تمسكني الريح و تدور... يذيب الماء خارطتي ... ولا يعود لي خيار سوى الغرق اوالطيران.. و لا يعود لي دليل سوى قلبي الذي يرفض ان ينبض معظم ايام الاسبوع.

.....................

في رأسي الف حكاية .. وفي جسدي تعب....

وسماءي تملؤها الرغبه في ان تبصر نجوم اليالي التي لم تأتي بعد وتنسى أن أمس كان بلا نجوم.

......

الغد لعبه تفقد الغازها فلا يعود لها بريق..

فإذ أبصرت أمسي و غدي ما عاد يستهويني طريق.

أسير يدهشني مسيري من حريق لحريق..

ملعونة طرقي؟ أم ترى النار استراحت لصديق

كلما شب برأسي دوار لدوار أستفيق..

لكني فقدت خوفي و لم اعد اخشى

فالخوف لا يسكن إلا وطني يغمره كالبحريبتلع الغريق

Mother

2007-07-15T21:00:00.000-04:00

بي حنين لأمي

لحضن يذيب الأسى و الخوف

شوق للمسة

تخرجني لعالمي الذي اعرفه و لا اراه إلا عندما

يلفني قلب أمي

....

بي حنين لأمي

لكل الحب الذي لم يعد يسكن إلا بعينيها

بي حنين لأمي ...

لوطن أشك أنه كان موجود لو لم يختبيء بصوتها

بي حنين لأمي ...

لصلاتها... لدعائها

لاسمي تذيبه شفاهها

بي حنين

لبيتٌ يعبث به الغرباء كأنهم يعبثون بقلبي

أصبر... أعرف انه سيعود بيتي

حالما تلمسه أمي ...

بي حنين لأمي

فهي إختصار الوطن الذي لم يبق منه سوى أم

و هي اختصار الزمن الذي يأكل بانيابه البيضاء شعري

و هي التي تعيدني لنفسي إذا أصاب مراتي الفصام

وطن

2007-06-28T20:56:00.000-04:00

ممزق قلبي مثل شراع سفينة مهترىء
ممزق مثل وطن
وطن لم يعد ملكي
صار مُلك العبيد
و مُلك الجنون
و مُلك الخراف
و مُلك الغجر

ٌُ

لغة

2007-06-28T20:36:00.000-04:00

لغتي تشتاق الي .. ان لم اشتق
تدخل احلامي كخربشات طفولةَََ على ورق

Al-Atlala

2007-06-20T05:05:00.000-04:00

Listening to Al-Atlal eating a food misses nothing but my mother’s touch to be tasteful. Sitting in the kitchen eating looking at the same plant we used to have in our kitchen in Baghdad. It was long slow lunch with Um Kalthoom’s song. If I didn’t know that it was already 4:30 pm when I started eating I wouldn’t doubt it was 2:00 - 2:30 pm the time Um Kalthoom sang through Baghdad Radio everyday. With Um Kalthoom everything is slow and has special taste.

In America I learned to eat when I am lonely, eat when I worry, eat when I miss home. The American escape! After I finished my lunch I took the ice cream box out of the fridge and started eating the Iraqi way, little in small bowl but Um Kalthoom was singing “learn how to forget and learn to erase…” I got the box out again and ate one third of the 1.65 L box. She was saying “when each lover end up going his own way” when I realized that ice cream can’t help, I needed Iraqi tea made the Iraqi way slow with Um Kalthoom. Repeating the song again, drinking my tea.

“My heart, don’t ask me where is love...

Give me my freedom, release my hands. I gave everything to the end…

Why would I stay in prison while I have the world between my hands?”

Where is love? I had no love stories to look back to and wonder how it would have worked. Feels good that I am already free from the prison of love memories those Um Kalthoom is singing about. But she doesn’t sing about love memories, she sings about life. This song was chosen one of the 100 greatest songs of the 20^th century.

In Al-Atlal love born in magic revolution of feelings and fires where everything looks sweet and possible. Like youth. Like a victorious country. Then on one morning life looks like it was before and love is gone.

She is telling the story of love in its peak “where can I find a gathering that includes you” describing his charm and how he shines wherever he goes “I am all love and eager. Has love ever witnessed lovers like us. How much we build with our imagination and walked roads lit by moon where happiness was walking before us. We laughed like children”

For unknown reason I kept repeating that part till my tears released themselves maybe for the same reason Um Kalthoom herself insisted to repeat it over and over for like 10 times.

“We noticed when it was time to leave. We woke up from our dreams wished we never did.”

Yes…we all wished. Is it something we can avoid? Can we just live things to the peak? Do we have to wake up from our illusions feeling so stupid? Feeling betrayed?

It feels like a sand storm blowing in my face washing all the sweetness of memories.

“A wake that made our dreams fell. The night, our friend, was gone. Light like a warning coming and morning rose like fire”

Why light is warning Um Kalthoom? Why all mornings that carry that special waking truth light explode in the deceiving serene night.

Drinking what left of my tea. It was 7pm.

“Oh! Life looked like it used to be. Lovers!! Each one went to a different way”

Each taking a road!! Like my family? We lived together long enough to believe that it will be this way forever but now we are in five countries. Will it ever be like it used to be? Do we wake up from nice dreams only? Will we ever wake up from this? Will our lonely empty broken damaged house ever be full of life again?

“When a wound heals another wound persist to remind of past.

Learn How to forget! And learn how to erase memories”

Even the sweet memories, Um Kalthom? Forget! Can we pick what to forget? Or forget it all? Draw a line and born again?

“My lover, everything is fate. It wasn’t our choice to be miserable. Maybe our fates will meet one day and bring us together once again when it looks so hard to happen. But if lovers deny each other and we meet like strangers then we go each to different way, don’t say we chose. No! It is our fate”

That part used to make me angry. I never liked this song before this is the first time I listened to it complete. It sounded too desperate before. Fate? That should make me feel better? It was fate! When I meet my brother in around 5 years or so from now not recognizing him with the white hair- he will be a 46-47 year old man has nothing to do with my 32 year old brother who I said goodbye to. Should I blame fate?

She started again.

“My heart, don’t ask me where is love...

..The bird of longing and eager singing my pain...”

It is 8 pm.

I listened to the song more than 4 times for 4 hours.

“Give me my freedom, release my hands.”

My cup of tea not empty yet.

“Why would I stay in prison while I have the world between my hands?”

But I am done with Al-Atlala (ruins) song and tea.

Feeling Good

2007-05-25T23:00:00.000-04:00

I feel good for unknown reason.
I feel good in the middle of chaos with weak body that doesn't help! I have been through frustrating times where everything went wrong but through all this, deep inside there is satisfaction and there is a smile, there is light. Light that switched on with every look at tree singing with its green language! This green revolution around me whispers in my ears "you are alive" that sweet reminder makes me smile no matter how hard things are. My new discovery is that there is no bad day there are only hard days. Maybe this makes no difference for others but it does for me. like it makes no difference for most of the people to remind them that they are alive. It is not a default it is amazing thing staying alive each day. It is nice to notice every now and then that you are alive.

I am very tired but inside there is a comfort... I am lonely those days but I enjoy living with myself. This precious feeling when you enjoy thoughts flow in your head. Most those people who live with ipod and cell phone maybe just so bored of there inner voice that they escape listening to music and other peoples' voices.
**********
I have a secret , I miss Arabic language so much. I will write in Arabic again. Soon.

One Day

2007-02-19T22:18:00.000-05:00

Where all this pain comes from…

When you mix the dream with flash of what you can call real world.

She woke me up in the morning... It was 10:30 … I am sleeping much better these days -not nightmares days … she woke me up. Her voice was nice warm like home… when she gone I was in a cage again … like Dec. 2004… feeling the desire to escape… I felt so weak … so unrealistic … she remind me that I am not allowed to fly out of the little toy that we created and called fate. That Dec. 2004 I proved to myself that I can walk the other direction when I choose, but it wasn’t that hard that time. Now … taking my exam again in reality, would I dare to walk my way again?

-------

It is so sweet … when we go behind those crazy whispers in our heads… it is so bad when we get use to it... So bad when we can’t follow them anymore… so bad when we have to live small dreams in a side and ugly reality on the other side. I was angry … because she woke me up from so many things. I want to hear my voice. I want to go the other direction; I want her voice to stop dragging me to the cage again.

--------------

It was 10:30 in the morning… stories were filling my head …after she was gone and the phone was free of her...I opened the door to find a paper on the floor my roommate left me a note that she will disappear for a week and she is sorry she won’t clean , as if she ever does! Can’t be happier to be alone for few days none will listen to my phone calls and give me opinions when I finish.

Breakfast wasn’t possible really with my mood… took a book to bed … it was about people who were living with others they hated cause they couldn’t be with those they loved. Great choice!

Phone call from a sister .

Breakfast around three .. followed by 4 hours phone call argue about doubts and fears , for 4 hours I was trying to escape the cage that women has put me in. Few pages from the book was interrupted by another phone call , this time I wasn’t talking . I was listening to stories about Baghdad and others horrible about Americans … 2.5 hours. It was after midnight when I remembered that I ate nothing since my 3 pm breakfast.

---------

Dreams look so sweet when you look at them from reality cage. Like sky for a bird in prison.

Happiness

2006-04-23T03:57:00.000-04:00

I searched the web for "happiness"

Albert Camus:
You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.

James Oppenheim:
The foolish man seeks happiness in the distance, the wise grows it under his feet.

Kalidasa:
Listen to the Exhortation of the Dawn!Look to this Day!For it is Life, the very Life of Life.In its brief course lie all the Verities and Realities of your Existence.The Bliss of Growth,The Glory of Action,The Splendor of Beauty;For Yesterday is but a Dream,And To-morrow is only a Vision;But To-day well lived makes Every Yesterday a Dream of Happiness,And every Tomorrow a Vision of Hope.Look well therefore to this Day!Such is the Salutation of the Dawn!

Peyton Conway March:
There is a wonderful mythical law of nature that the three things we crave most in life -- happiness, freedom, and peace of mind -- are always attained by giving them to someone else.

Khalil Gibran:
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?

Bertolt Brecht:
Unhappy the land that needs heroes.

Happiness

2006-04-23T02:37:00.000-04:00

When you have a reason to be happy, you are not happy, true happiness needs no reason.

My Old World of Papers

2006-04-18T13:43:00.000-04:00

Just thinking of the number of notebooks and papers I have, what to do with all these?
Throw them away ?
I can’t take them with me. I can’t leave them here!

*********************
Sat. Nov.20, 2004
My hair … my clothes…my face
are wet.
It is how I know it is raining
It can’t be, all that flood that drift me away is just illusion.
------------
Like a strew in a fire
Smoke takes it and fly
But at the end… it will fall into the heart of the flames.
****************
Sat. April 24, 2004
What am I afraid of? I wasn’t born to fear.
Why I escape? I wasn’t born to run.
Why am I waiting for death? I wasn’t made to die.
****************
Sat. July 10, 2004
Today I wake up to find the sun behind neighbors’ house
Waiting till I wake to rise

Healing by Clouds

2006-04-03T14:24:00.000-04:00

I didn’t know that the way to God is very long. The only time I was there it took one second only. I didn’t reach there the last few days but I took a step and it was full of peace, rare peace.
Today’s morning was beautiful, I was getting better, had nice time of jokes with my friends till my work day was end when I knew that one of our colleagues has cancer, he is 32. Home mom told me that one of our friends was killed, she is 30. She was with me in the same college in different year but I saw her time to time and I still remember her in her graduation day. Headache attacked me. Ugly life. God, if I haven’t seen you myself I would doubt that there is God watching. It is all yours. I can’t say anything.
If I didn’t live that April day, it wouldn’t hurt that much. I used to deal with death and murder differently but now … I know… and because I know it does hurt. They say she is in heaven. Let them say, if it is how they find a solution for the unsolved questions. It is how they feel better and content. What about me? What could end the unsolved hell of every brutal death I see or relive with its victims?
I took my camera and spent the afternoon up the house roof taking photos of clouds in sunset. It was silly, it helped. Clouds played games with the sun and the little moon that was too jealous to wait for his turn to appear. Planes spoiled the game with their white lines of smoke. Anyway clouds won when a big black cloud hid the sun. I went down sat with my mother in the garden, I put my head on her shoulder and we watched the clouds white and black painting the sky. I watched clouds for the first time after war, when I was a bout to lose my mind I discovered healing by clouds.
I will start packing.

2006-03-29T13:16:00.000-05:00

I am falling a part… nobody knows.
First time I cried was when my brother left, I discovered that it is okay to cry. When I was a child my mother said that I never cried when I was punished, she was angry for that “you just stand quietly looking at me with pride before you look aside”.
I am crying all the time. I saw those four men the other day and war memories are so loud this year, the little time I watch TV it is war alive in tapes. For a reason that man with no head that was found in one of the neighbors’ house is back from that April,2003 smiles to me “where my head could be?” … tears are stronger than me. I trick them and let them rolling free when I am alone. Sometimes for ten minutes before I go to work … 15 after I change my clothes before I am down for lunch. Skip dinner. Avoid being with family. Just hide it all, what to say? What to tell them? Pretend it is all like usual.
Only today some noticed that I am not fine, after I replied to a silly note I heard. “are you sick, you don’t look fine. Something happened?” ..What happened !! no one died yesterday.
What is new? the sadness is not new! But it takes a day or takes a part of me, use to live good and bad times every day and no matter how bad it is, there was an attempt to find light. Now it is not sadness. I am tired.
My soul is tired like if it took a long journey around all hell lands and skies and can’t take one more tour. Since I saw those men, the box where all my weary feelings and nightmares kept just opened. Every single thing I do or word I have to say is torture.
Tired, like I took a long run.
Pieces of me are falling everywhere … a piece of me in every corner.
One piece still there with that man who was looking for the emergency room in a hospital today, reading signs doesn’t know what those words mean, “come that way” a women with him “don’t be that scared, believe me he is okay, it is only a shot”.
I decided two days ago to take a trip to the sky this weekend. I will be away from everything and I will meet him, God. He showed me much the only time I saw, now I need to see from up there again.

Ice Wall

2006-03-22T20:33:00.000-05:00

My fingers are frozen.. I was trying to remove an ice wall.
but I found that it is only can be build not removed ... I will add one more big ice brick.

Angry

2006-03-17T10:37:00.000-05:00

There are limits for being stupid. That guy is much beyond limits ..
I got someone asking me to read something. I did. What is wrong with those people... words are not simple they can kill. words can kill. Some people are writing beautiful emotions and they are happy "read what I am writing" it is a disaster, those people are playing words games without any consideration that they are not truth fighters as much as they are hatred messengers.
I am angry.
It is my fault. I said I am not going to read these things at all (I really don't read it), but I did it this time again.

My Way to Pay!

2006-03-14T21:52:00.000-05:00

When faces turn..
I will see what lie I have bought.
I have bought a lie … I love it … enjoy it … I didn’t lie myself, I am just watching.
But faces turn… they always turn… maybe soon the lie would have an end.. maybe soon …reality won’t be that bad.
I like a lie I chose to pretend that I believe… sometimes I do believe …
Reality is coming soon … and soon the color of life I choose not to see will cover the world again…
Truly I am curious to know, though , sometimes truth only make things fit in a memory book. Now my memory book is open, please come and fit in, it is crowded with strange things but there is a place… there is always a place. One thing we need to clear, I don’t open a page before 5-6 years. It takes time … In the future; I think I will open it less.
It is time to turn and turn … show me what I enjoy not to see… show me … I am ready to know. My battles are ahead. I can’t lean on a lie … show me a true face, take a line in a page and go…it is all I can pay … all I have left to pay.

He Forgot!.. Again!

2006-03-12T14:06:00.000-05:00

I am so tired. ... got home at 7:10 pm or so. What a long day!!! when I entered It was dark, no electricity...the generator was under my father's mercy ( fixing something in it ) my tired steps in were with no balance, all I was thinking is "to find my bed" when I found it!!! it was under good amount of different stuff. No matter how tired I was I had to clear it after what I did this morning. this morning, it was not so dark to get any kind of light and it wasn't lit enough. so to find a shirt I have taken them all out on the bed to find the right one and so on. I did a great job in the dark to put things back ,when I was finished I thought "I can sleep all the time it takes to my next life" but I can wait at least to wash my face. When I did... " I can take a shower". I heard someone advicing"the water is cold for a shower"...No way !! I will have it even in ice.

In fact it was warm enough to make me feel pain in one foot, have I hurt myselfe some how?? It wasn't possible to know how bad the cut was in the half-dark . I didn't even look, I didn't want to know when there was light. I took four small bandages with me and went to my room and it was exactly as the four bandeges could cover when I finally took a look. but I couldn't sleep! "let me only check my computer" "I have blogs !!!" more than a month of silence in "how to deserve it?" I laugh when I remember that I once thought"when I don't post for 10 days, it means I am dead" .. I have written too much in my head.

I am so tired to sleep...

Unpleasant things jumped to my head. I remembered that he didn't remember at all.

I am tired and I wanted to sleep. Why do I think of that? He is busy.

Too busy to send one word! too busy to mention it in his last call. Too busy to send a text message "Happy Birthday".

Even those who I missed their birthdays remebered. Those who are away remembered. He didn't, just like the last year. I miss him so much. Right now I feel all I want is to hug him once again. Like the last time when he was leaving. When my tears wet his shirt and his voice whispered "take care".

My brother, your little sister needs your arms around her once again after all those years . But!!Oh!!! You are too busy even to remember a birthday.

Confession

2006-02-11T12:03:00.000-05:00

Don't be afraid to be weak
Don't be too proud to be strong
Just look into your heart my friend
That will be the return to yourself
The return to innocence.

If you want, then start to laugh
If you must, then start to cry
Be yourself don't hide
Just believe in destiny.

Don't care what people say
Just follow your own way
Don't give up and use the chance
To return to innocence.

That's not the beginning of the end
That's the return to yourself
The return to innocence.

Enigma - Return To Innocence -

--------------------------------------------------

I have built a prison and locked myself in. I like to say I choose it, but the truth is my fears give me no choice. Each time I think I want to go out, I hide the key and convince myself it is lost.
I hear the call, I want to open that door.
Sometimes I feel things are copying themselves. People, if you know them more, are just the same. Places tell same stories. Except the sun, I never saw the same sun twice, never the same dawn.
If I am looking through the same window why the view would change. I had a dream two years ago I was in a beautiful garden, it was mine, the water was runing very pure at the begining then it bacame muddy. "why?" I asked, "you need to change the water all the time, you just keep little running through the garden many many times. You have to let it go. Change it" a voice replied.
What was the message?

---------------------------------------------

Thank you my friend for the song.

Up - Down - Up

2006-02-07T13:30:00.000-05:00

How it helped, this talk to death partners. I have to add this to my list of solutions when I feel bad. there is a book, a movie, a puzzle that require focus and Koran of course, sometimes cleaning or workout . Now talk to a dead.

Yesterday life sent me my friend R, we talked on the phone. She felt terrible because of her March exam and I felt terrible too. We talked for an hour , I mean we laughed for an hour about nothing, we just needed to laugh. Every silly word was a good joke, Movies, dogs, airplanes and Valentine day, then we talked about some neighbors when she said "guess what! There are others listening to us. This gonna be a scandal among neighbors" .
This morning I woke up thinking “how to protect her?” struggling to wake up from a nightmare. In the nightmare I was in a car sitting on the backseat with a little girl, it was crowded street and the car was moving slowly. Then I saw a car on the other side and it was about to explode. “Get down” I said and I knew it wasn’t enough thinking what can I do for her? There was nowhere to go.

At work, the girls suggested that we go out.
“What!! Five of us!”
“What we gonna say?”
“That mean guy will tell the boss one of his twisted stories”
“The mean guy is not here”
“What is the excuse?”
“We have business out, don’t you remember?”
“That is right”
“It is okay to stop somewhere to eat.”
“Four of us only can prove that they have an official excuse. What about her?”
“She does. Take the keys and say you forget something in the car.”
That is how the discussion ended.

I haven’t laughed that much for a year. We ate at a fast food restaurant. It was the first time I go out with girls to eat somewhere without even a male driver (to protect us! heh) since war. This was good. It was fun.

To the Dead

2006-02-02T23:12:00.000-05:00

I’ve begged you to leave me alone before. I was wrong. Please don’t go. To whom can I talk about this but you? Who can understand how hard could death be and how harder life sometimes is.
I can’t sleep. Every night I wake up about 2-3 am and can’t sleep again. Darkness, gun shooting, cold, but the worst is me. The hardest part of those sleepless nights is that I am in the prison of my body where I can hear no voice but mine and no thoughts but mine no silence but this emptiness of …
There is nothing wrong in my life for this. It is all fine, worry about few/ many things! Yes, who is not?
I don’t want to talk about me now. Enough me.
What happened to you? Where you went after this? Are you still angry? Are you in heaven? hee hee. What heaven? I am sorry. You know, I am still alive and still have a reason to be fool. Heaven is still a word. Words!!! You remember when there were no words. I do. I think, those who were around didn’t notice that words are meaningless, they were busy holding their bodies to live. I was just like them till I heard this voice asking me to ‘let it go’. You did too. I know, I heard your screams, there were no words. It was when I felt that there was someone feels the same or someone has been betrayed by words like me. Betrayed by the God they taught us is there, there is God but different than the one we use to believe. It is nobody’s fault, it is words’ fault. I can’t describe God. Tell you something very silly, words help to keep images in mind. It can’t be! Not exactly, it can form some keys to lead you back to the way. Silly!! How can you put God in words? If I said that there is no hatred. It will be fine for others. But if I said that there is no hatred because there is no love, I will look foolish. I use those two words, hate and love, a lot, if it is not real why I do? How to explain? The only true written words were those of God himself, it is not words it’s pictures, I saw it, it was real. I saw few of Koran in colors, sound and vibrations that day. Wait here, I said ‘real’ what does this word mean?
Do you believe, it is all disappear sometimes, all the ‘real’ s we saw, and I find myself again in the tunnel of life and lies. I guess the opposite is happening to you.
What happened to you later? I was sent back to life and you gone. What it is look like there? Disappointing? I think so. Disappointment is what you would feel down here too. We never learn. Maybe we learn slowly. If I have learnt anything would I be sleepless? No, I would sleep even in the White House. If I have learnt anything would I be here writing these ‘meaningless’ words.
Thanks for being here. How can I share this with but you? You who know . it is you who can understand. I feel much much better. It is 7 am. Let me try to live.

Talk

2006-01-23T04:05:00.000-05:00

I have shut my brain off and left no sense in control. My fingers were free.

Sometimes I can’t talk to people. I see them not real, just an image that will disappear. Sometimes I can’t feel that they are existed. It is better. People die, people leave, people change, people lie, people are part of the play we are here to play. An event, an accident, a question in one long test we are on earth to take.
Sometimes I can’t communicate. I am not crazy to talk to ghosts. They look ghosts.
There are walls keep me away, walls of ice and fire. Walls of gossip and chatter. Sometimes I can see their thoughts, why they insist to talk?

********************

Only when I look into your eyes you will have an access to my soul which is always so clear to those who know how to read.
Don’t ask so many questions I hate to use words.
How can we have a conversation without being silent?
How can I feel safe when you want me to talk?How can I feel safe when you ask what’s wrong? You should know it is all wrong.

Talk is to explain. Explain the unclear. The unclear is the hard to understand. If you don’t understand you don’t know. If you don’t know you can’t sense. If you don’t … how can you feel me? If you don’t feel, why would I talk?

*********************

I miss the day yet to come.
I miss the sound yet to form.
I miss the child that I was.
I miss the light that I will be.
I miss the nights that hide mornings.
I miss the mornings that start in the sky but last forever in my heart.
I miss you! What is “you”? It is yet to be “you”.

**********************

Feelings are the illusion I refuse to desert. But I refuse to surrender. It is why I write.
When I write, feelings try to overwhelm and I try to paste them away with the glue of words.

Empty!!! NO

2006-01-16T02:47:00.000-05:00

Empty...
There are faces without names and there are names without faces.
There are bodies without souls and there are souls still without bodies refuse to walk in this world, our world.
-------------
I am here...
Wake up every morning wondering what I miss.
In the afternoon there is an empty space.
Home, it is so silent.
Reading my email … is it for someone else?
I am not talking too much lately. The few words I use seem enough; my friends can fill the blanks.
-------------
Stop. Wake up. Emptiness can't swallow me. All my busy brain needs is to use different part of it. What if I remember what programming means? It has been along time.
Not so long, even if, I need to start something new.
There is a girl over there who is not using her brain often, can I... and ...?Yes! Sure...
She will be blessed by my magical touch to her life.
Now work time starts.

2 Men and One Dead Woman

2005-12-26T11:35:00.000-05:00

I went to work today in black, I am in mourning. It was the first time I wore black, even when my grandmother died I didn’t wore it. I went to my boss’s office.
“ alsalam alaikum”
“Wa alaikum alsalam, ahlan *** how are you? why you wear black? What is wrong?”
“ My aunt died yesterday”
“Oh no…. what are you doing here?”
“ I came to finish some necessary work and take the next two days off”
“Sit .. Sit and tell me how she died”
I have told him about it and then he said
“ No.. No.. you take the next three days off, you shouldn’t even come today. All you needed was a call. Don’t worry we won’t make it official. We will mention only two!”
“Thank you very much. S will cover my absence. I told her where everything is. I don’t think there will be any problems”
“There won’t be. It is not important! You really shouldn’t come. Even if the funeral ended don’t come Thursday”
I thanked him and left his office. I adore that man. He is human, human and human.
He is very religious and open minded. He is very religious but he never treat anyone regard how religious they are. He is very religious but never discusses religion. Never impose his opinion. Never tell anyone “you are wrong”. He is funny. He smiles most of the time. He is sensitive. He is honest. Hold on for a second I am not in love, he is like an uncle to me.

Back home I found the keys hidden in the secret place. I opened the door, I was alone, they were at the funeral. It is the first day. I will go the next two days of the three days usual funeral. I did my best to avoid thinking of death.
4:30 pm. Power was off, I enjoyed silence and darkness for an hour then went to the generator so confident and sure it was an easy thing to do. Why men care about generators always, women rarely touch it? “Piece of cake” I was repeating till I faced it.
“what is it? Only one rope to pull!” I pull it the first time but didn’t work. “Why we need men? Who needs men?” the second time, no success. “all I need is someone to hold it while I pull to keep it in its place” third time failed. The forth, the fifth…. The hundred failed. “Please work. Our neighbor in his garden, he is listening. Work, please. What a shame! No matter what, you will work. Who said I need a man! Didn’t you worked when I wanted, when my father was here?? many times. Why now?” I was talking to the generator “only if that guy isn’t watching! I won’t ask for his help. I can live in darkness but it is a challenge now. Maybe he is laughing! Turn!” but it just didn’t. I remembered there is something we should give to one of the neighbors. Yes, they have two kids. One of them can hold it while I … within a second I was knocking their door. He came with me, the skinny kid. I hesitated to pull it first not be embarrassed so I thought to let him try couple of times before I give him the “hold it role”. He tested it then he pulled it, and from the first time it worked!
For the generator.. Well maybe I need a man only in Iraq but anywhere else sure not. When there will be no generators, I won’t! What about…!! And…! Well for few more things maybe!

She died! Till now I am doing great. I don’t think about it but tomorrow when I enter her house, when I see her daughters, when I see them cry and talk about her! When I feel her soul, smell and touch full the house. I should not worry, I will make it. I will survive sadness! I can.

One More

2005-12-25T10:50:00.000-05:00

Weird Christmas.
My mother is not home, my aunt either. They went to the cemetery, only one will come home.
One more death. One more pair of eyes will look down from there. On more voice will whisper when I dare to pray.
One more smile I will miss. One more laugh no longer will be heard. One more empty space in my life. One person has just tasted the truth, repeating “how fool I was!”. They don’t know that when they back to life they will be fool again.

Little Finger

2005-12-18T10:22:00.000-05:00

Writing a word
Writing a line … never a page . I have a little finger which is not harmonized with others.
It insists to type its own way. Type the letters it wants.
My words never right. My lines never completed. My page misses so many letters which that little finger saved to put them wherever he choose.
I have a revolt finger in my hand.
Maybe he is just expressing the part that my hand refuses to see.
I have a rebel in my hand.

New Morning

2005-12-15T06:46:00.000-05:00

It was 3 am, I was reading when I heard the loud speakers, I couldn’t hear it well. I opened the window with ten probabilities in my head but none was right.
“Please, dear residence of(__),don’t drink water, the water was poisoned”
Immediately I looked at my empty cup of tea that I have just drunk. Spending some minutes sending sms and calling others for warning. I went to bed.
I smiled to God “maybe there will be no morning but I am thankful for the extra 32 months you gave me. I am thankful for not dying on the 8 april , 2003 in horror and dying so peacefully in my bed.” I was happy I didn’t fully believe it but who knows!
The morning came.
How can I describe that wonderful feeling when I wake up in the morning, when I discover life again.
I wore red T-shirt with the blue jacket and jeans. I went to vote. It was very crowded. Crowded like feelings in my heart. Like the list of things I want to do today.
I have to go now. I am so busy; I have a life to live.

One Night in a Grave

2005-11-29T13:23:00.000-05:00

That is from My Letters To America this morning:

Three keys for happiness: salad, lying in my bed, and feeling alive. Still
have time for my show. Still have time in my body. I am at work now. when I
get home I like to explain... maybe today!

During this last war we had some place (I can’t call it room) prepared to be the shelter in bad air strike times. That place is a one meter width, three in length and about three in height, with one small window and a small doorway from the middle of one side. Basically it was the laundry room but my terrified mom emptied it, she even took the shelves away and managed to insert a single bed in, in fact, she filled it with that bed just to convince us how comfortable it could be! For me “no way mom, I am not gonna put my self in that place. There are air strikes every day all day. I am not living there no matter what” for her that was never an answer when the sounds got scary and explosions looked so close she started her screaming and begging “leave that computer and come here. Don’t you feel the house about to fall” “I can’t leave the game now I am about to win” I replied carelessly “Do you really believe if the house fell and it was my destiny to die that place would save me!” I remember I went there maybe twice, once when I felt the ground beat heavy under my feet and on the airport battle day. But that was only for a short time in the first one and few horrible hours in the other, till the big day.
It wasn’t till that day I ever noticed what my mother’s refuge was like. I laugh for that now. On the 8th of April, 2003 morning during the battle I said “mom isn’t this place like a grave? All we need is a little bomb to be buried” she didn’t need that to panic more. In that grave I was locked with my parents and my sister for 24 hours waiting for a certain death. We spent the night in utter darkness. Where the small window was closed with nailed blanket on. It was hot and from nowhere bugs attacked, the heavy air (full of smoke and dust) with the terror and the awful day made the night incredibly unbearable but that wasn’t all. The three of us, my mother, sister and I slept in that bed and I couldn’t move, each one of us was like S letter and there was no space to move. I was in that painful situation for about 12 hours without a moment asleep afraid to move a leg that might wake one of them if they were asleep. I was counting seconds to see the morning light. And I thought was I really able to lie in my bed on my pillow straight and turn however I want. It seemed the impossible grace. I was ready to pay years of my life if I survive to get one hour sleep in my bed. It is one of my happiness secrets. Sometimes when I go to bed I just think ‘straight!! Move!! It is all mine’ I sleep with big smile and open my eyes in the morning with big smile. It is an impossible grace just like salad. That will be my next post. I guess!

One Day

2005-11-27T09:13:00.000-05:00

It is silly, I was trying to do it for long time but I couldn’t. Last week I persisted to do it. There were many pages with few lines each, it all say nothing.
I want to write about one day in my life. When I do, it won’t matter to write after that. When I was so exhausted by the memories, I felt I can’t take it and wondered if it would be a good idea to get rid of it by posting it, so I started my ‘how to deserve it‘ blog. From the first post I was trying to write about nothing but one day, and never did it. Do you believe that at the end I decided to write this way: the days before, the spirit a day before, the big day and ‘what after’. That will turn it to four. I can’t do it. I started a blog for that day but I can’t write about it. Each time I try, it makes me feel so bad and I can’t handle the pain. It has been more that 32 months though I can’t talk about it yet.
I have to do it now. I have no time, when I leave there will be no chance to write anything I will be busy. I don’t want to take it with me; I don’t want to take nightmares and dead people whispers with me. I will have a real quiet and normal life. This madness will stay here in Baghdad. I will go ghosts free.
The solution is to write with no order. Slice the day and put a piece in words each time.It sounds good. There is no weak point we can’t overcome. If I have survived the real day will its memories defeat me?

For Those Who Are Asking: No Big Story

2005-11-22T14:06:00.000-05:00

What is it? What had happened to me? Why don’t I say it?
Am I the only one in the world who lived wars? Why are other Iraqis saying what they feel and think simply and I don’t?
These are the questions I have get and I could guess many might have. OKay... First I have no big stories . I have one horrible experience that changed the definition of everything.
On April 8th 2003 I was in battlefield for one day where Americans and non-Americans were fighting around (over) the house. The smoke, the sounds and screams are still living with me.
That is it. No big story. None of my family members died that day but in a way all those who died belong to me. That day I was standing on the line between the two worlds (life and death)! And I was shocked. The picture was so different from there.
I started this blog for that day. I want to write about what had happened that day. It scares me to put it on a screen. Box it in words. Identify it. It took me long time to accept the fact that I am alive after it took me hours to accept reality of death. Life is full of lies. It is great to live but how can I believe again. How can I live like I used to? I want to solve this mess in my heart and head. I want to see the truth again to find peace.
I write my own stories since I was 6. Diaries since 8(I threw away most of these times papers). When I was 13. I decided to write in new way, write without thinking or choosing words no matter how it would look. So I learned how to let my subconscious appear on papers. I didn’t write this way all the time although it was amazing. I felt stronger, determined and my mind was clear. I have stopped doing that or even write any real diaries. Now as I am so confused in the middle, I remembered my old method and decided to do it again.

Writing in War times is not only explosions news and how people live day to day. I wrote in a book I didn’t finish in 90s ‘war enter your blood, change your genes and take your eyes off to put you new ones’ I was a child when I wrote that, but I can’t say it better.

I Thought I Was in Trouble

2005-11-20T13:03:00.000-05:00

I have turned that day post to draft after few hours. Now things are clear so I have to keep it here.

Nov. 16
What had happened to me???
I don’t want to tell her now. That means I don’t want her to know now! But like a fool I keep a notebook for all the details and I have covered my mirror with all kind of notes.
None ever get to my room. Well there is only me in the house with my parents! Even when my pregnant sister comes for a visit she doesn’t go upstairs, she is a pregnant!
I came home this afternoon.
“Your sister was here”, “your nephew was here too” she kept informing me the news like usual “we had great lunch. Why were you late?”. “Streets were terrible today the bridge is closed. Marines on the highway in a weird …” like usual, the news of the day. “Mom I am hungry, I won’t change my clothes. I am starving”. While I was eating she said “why you left the computer on?” what? What computer “thank God your sister was here and she heard the UPS sound when power was off. She was angry. Why are you careless?” what computer? My computer was on! Is that a curse or what? The computer was off but something wrong in it makes it work by itself if I don’t switch power off. I forget the power on! I didn’t, but I was in hurry so I wasn’t sure whether it is on or off. I didn’t get it till then! I ate. I enjoyed my tea! Then went to my room. Looked at the mirror. Oops! Maybe she didn’t notice. Then my notebook was on the desk beside the mouse! My diaries were on the left. I can’t say she didn’t notice the colorful shiny notebook! I can’t say she didn’t read the first page with the big I AM LEAVING.
I am like a mad. I have to know.
“mom! Did my nephew go to my room with L?” I was praying he did. If so he wouldn’t let her see anything “he played with your doll” I was just thanking God when she said “ maybe that was with me when I went to your old room to … I am not sure!”
I am done! I am the one who should do it. How will my mother ever forgive me? How will she understand that I wasn’t sure and I didn’t say a word because I am still in the middle and I am not sure it will be fine to the end? It is not a game to talk about things like it is done before anything happened. leaving is a real painful process in the family I don’t want them to live it before it is a fact. For God sake I am not sure yet!
I don’t want to tell her. I have never hid a thing before not a thought. She is my best friend, but this is different. I hate to keep secret. How am I going to fix it?
_______________________________
Today's update :
What a great family I have? She didn’t read the shiny notebook! I have left my diaries opened on a page of one of my poems, it is emotional one. Probably she read it and felt guilty for reading my private papers without permission! So she left the room!

Yesterday I told my mother. I will write about it later.

Friends

2005-11-15T13:19:00.001-05:00

Oct.24,05
“Find peace somehow, do something read Koran or Bible, just find it” it was the last words he said before he left. He didn’t tell me he was leaving but the hand shake the eyes with this look! He left after that, till know I don’t know why he didn’t say it? Is goodbye too much to say to a friend? Was he afraid of sad times? Well I have said goodbye forever for all my childhood friends they are out of Iraq. Didn’t say it to all of them because some of them where leaving illegally but in this case, his case there where no reason! It is not so painful now; it is part of our daily life. He knew that. It doesn’t matter now. My friend for opinions and analysis gone (he came back for a short time and left again forever but he said goodbye this time).
It seems that every friend for a side of my life. Is that looks silly? Yes but it’s true since I lost my only best friend or maybe since I discovered that they are all left, I no longer can share it all with one person.
I have a friend for morning tea and daily life details talk. One for both political discussions and ambition control. I have a friend for life style issues she is the one follow me with notes like “why don’t you use your jewelries” “take care of your hair” “have you heard of something called eye shadow?” my normal reply “ yeeeee, I am not in the mood for such stuff” then she said “ is that mood about to change one day? Stay like you are and see how things will be better”. There is one who is specialized in marriage, “why you are not married? I don’t see why. There is nothing wrong. You are .., Your family, your education, your…etc. You think I haven’t noticed that you keep men away?” I laugh “Stop this silly exaggeration. just look around to know why?” but I really hate him when he put me in the corner. Every time we reach there I reveal part of my opinion ‘marriage’ so he starts his holy duty of changing my mind “what you mean by this? ….” He goes on. He is the social reality eye friend( He left . He has listened to me at last). Then I have two who tell me the details of their misery in desperate love stories, guess what? I am the one who advise, they never take it. The stupid point is I have no experience in this except some years ago for a reason that God only know every girl in love seemed go to nobody to complain but me!!! I have only one advice “leave him, don’t be stupid”. They thought I would understand!
My favorite beside tea and style girls is coffee friend, she is the one I read my coffee cup with and joke about the future we see in our cups, the one to share my bad mood and dreams. The one I spend hours with her and her sister laughing (she is mad with me these days, she said that if she don’t call I never do).
I can’t do with one what I do with the other. It won’t work. They are from different generations and backgrounds . I love them all and they are so important to me to keep me as normal as possible.
But I have no happy news friend! Celebration friend! Crazy times friend! I need to find one for those.

How to tell her?

2005-11-06T00:27:00.000-05:00

Back from work few days ago. I was looking through the window of the car to Baghdad streets see nothing of its misery because I was thinking that my eldest sister is forty and my eldest brother will be within few months. I tried to imagine them forty. She will be in my head forever in her late 20s the busy teacher and he is the college student, the noisy, the loud speaking guy and the one who laugh a lot demand a lot sing a lot. It took me back to our old family memories when neighbors called us the happy family.
I was in elementary school, a sister in high school and the elders were in college. Lunch was so exciting for me because we all gather and tell our day stories and jokes. I was talking too much and eat little how could I miss any detail of a school day without mention it? I knew every thing about their friends that I could guess the name of most of them when I hear their voices in the phone for the first time. My big brother’s room was my favorite. I go there to play with his guitar and big stereo, had good time laughing at myself when I wear his jackets and blouses. Once, only once, I read his diaries. He was complaining of the way my father treated him that time. The wonderful Thursdays, the day we spend shopping, walking, eat dinner at a restaurant before we go to a relative house that crowded with so many people from all generations the thing that made it fun for all. We back home after midnight. Fridays in spring and autumn mean picnic time. I was drowning in memories when I got home, the silent house. They all left and now how can I tell her? I looked for mom and sit where she was. She seemed old “mom how you imagine the future?” “Nothing I don’t imagine it. Things change in a minute. Don’t worry in a minute chances appear or things happened and change ones life.” She made it easier. She is ready to accept big changes. “Mom, doesn’t this house look so big and empty?” watching her carefully “What it will look when I leave?” “Are you leaving?” she turned her head to me as a response to the alarm “something happened?” “I am saying if!” I have to keep my game slaw “what are you going to do with dad? What if my sister moves in with her husband? Won’t things be better than if you two stayed here by yourselves?” “Your father and I were thinking about split part of the house to rent it” she was talking like if they already planed for it “…so the stairs is what we didn’t decide where to put”. “Since when you and dad are thinking about this?” I was little angry “where was I? What about me”. “Last year” she added “you will be fine in a room downstairs” with a look of a meaning. “What about my privacy? Me, means upstairs” the conversation wasn’t so serious “how would I be not going up to my room or you not yelling to wake me up or to call me down to eat. This won’t be our family!”. She laughed “I am tired of this big empty house” she became sad “it because of you we didn’t really do anything about the house. You know your father lost some of his money in robberies after war and you know how he lost the rest. He is old now and doesn’t want to work”. The word leave for her meant getting married more and it meant leaving the country for me. “You mean you are waiting for me to leave” there must be something else to do “you can’t do that you can’t turn our house to one of those ugly houses with stairs out and strangers come in and out every year. How can you let some one live here in part of our house. It is ours mom. Our childhood memories. We’d grown up here, went to college, have our first job. Everything is here. How can I leave? if there will be nothing I come back to. Mom, when I leave won’t you miss me? Don’t you like to open the door of my room to remember, to feel me here again”. Have I touched some painful nerve? I didn't mean it. “One more empty room! I can’t take it. I had enough of their rooms and memories times and tears. Don’t tell me I will repeat this again.” She noticed the point “why are you discussing this? Is there is something? Did your sister talked to you again about immigration?”. “No she didn't. Mom, you know I was talking about leaving for a while and I am trying. I am sure it will work one day. I will leave. This is not a life to live. I have lost so much already”. She felt relief remarkably. She even couldn’t stop a smile. A smile that says you will never do it then you just dreaming again “will you let a chance go for the house?” . “Yes, I will. I won’t leave if I am not sure that when I am here again I will find my house like it is” I had to push this into some hope point “is it hard to wait for few years if I left? When I am back I will have the job I want here and if I couldn’t I will find a good one in an Arabic country near and take you with me. My sister can live here till we get back” she was smiling differently now “Allah Kareem (God is kind and generous) don’t think too much about the future. let things go and we all will be fine”. She thinks I am dreaming again. She doesn’t know that I am leaving soon. How can I tell her? How can I make it easy? How can I make it without the goodbye pain I saw her live many times?

Eid

2005-11-04T01:36:00.000-05:00

Peace, light and smiles full the morning as Eid gift.

Sometimes I feel you looking at me!

2005-10-27T01:46:00.000-04:00

That is it. Not a moment of worry to live
I have made my choice. I have taken the risk. I have jeopardized the secure, sad and dreamy zone, lies zone, fears zone. Not a moment of hesitation.
Not a trick of the past can stop me. I am going there. I am leaving. Life never about big goals … It’s about what change in you during the journey. At the end line … I won’t carry my degrees or work experience or the dreams I made true. All I can take is me. Out of all what I am doing the true thing is what left in my heart and how real I can be.
Sometimes I feel you looking at me. I won’t forget you. Your screams still in my ears since April 03 . You didn’t die for nothing. Someone down here remember you... Someone’s life down here changed because of you. I am not living for you. It is not possible. All I can do is not living for the lies you died for. I promise at one point of my life I will do the thing you will do if you back to life. I’ll try to save people like you from the trap. Not now. Believe me one day I will.

When...?

2005-10-24T05:54:00.000-04:00

when you have a dream and the dream that didn't look possible is transforming to reality.
when your happiness lasted for less than 48 hours before it turned to depression.
when you still have to work hard on it.
when you ask youself "do I really turn mylife upside down?" after a year of attempts.
when you hide such news like it didn't happened.
what does it mean?

From My Diaries

2005-10-24T02:50:00.000-04:00

From my diaries Jan.27 , 2004

Standing on one foot all the things I love inside me. Each time it raise ... it get tired, shake and fall . All the things I love.

Footprints

2005-10-18T15:30:00.000-04:00

What does it mean to have a second chance?
It happened to me. I want to deserve it. I want to make this one work.
To do that, I need to see what inside me in a mirror. This blog is not for anyone to read, why would someone care about my daily illusions, feelings and thoughts. I will put some of my old diaries too. It is my footprints in life, so when I mess it up again or give up I find a STOP sign turn my head to see the route I chose and know where to go . This time I will live a real life, this time when the day come and I hear that voice again " that's it, your time is over" I wont say "not now !" I wont say "I haven't lived yet!" ... or scream "not like this!!!I don't wont to die like this ! None on earth deserve to die like this".... Next time I die, it will be peaceful and easy...no matter what, there will be no regret.