Oh God, I miss home. I see people around me, they have homes. They have a life, it may not be a great one, or a very successful one, but they have one. They have families they can run back to. They don't sit and lament their maimed and dead, daily...Why not us ? Why can't we have that too ? I ask myself
And I look at us, and we have one eye turned to the past, to a place we once intimately knew, a place we loved and cherished and an eye to an unknown future, full of uncertainties...promising us nothing but more of the same...
We ask ourselves, daily, every single day, from the moment we open our eyes to the minute we close them - will it ever end ?
America and "its coalition of the willing" turned Iraq into a mirror image of itself.
A country of broken and dispersed families, lost individuals. A country of ghettos and cities where you can't venture out at night. A fake, bigoted, false puritanism that appeals to religion but that has no spirit. Rings and circles of pedophiles, drug addicts, drug dealers, prostitutes and criminals. Empty promises and failed, pointless constructions (malls, amusement parks Disney style, fast food chains and the rest...)
America reproduced a new Iraq in its own image. A people with no roots. A people with no land. A people with no more history. A people with a few faint memories to live on, and maybe a piece of music...
A living dead people.
Painting : Iraqi female artist, Wasma Al-Agha.