Lost....Lost Homes.

Women are peculiar beings...whoever, whatever they are...they are always attached to home.

Our home is our shell, our protection...the men may come and they may go, but our homes are our shelter...you take away our homes, you strip us naked...

Many of us Iraqi women have been stripped naked that way, some of us even more, a full striptease...until we ended up in brothels...

Most people don't understand...most people are stupid, make no mistake about the human race...very few of these fuckers are worthy of respect or consideration...they will only understand when they lose a home...until then, don't count on neither - nor their empathy, nor their understanding.

Specially don't count on empathy from those in the "first world", they are too polluted, these are people cut off from the most basics...they are far gone - down. Forget them.

Truth is -- don't count on anyone...take stock of your losses, all of them..all of them...if need be, ruthlessly strip yourself from the grief...and count...keep counting...

Turn that grief into the real thing...into an accounting exercise. Your language does not count no more...the language of grief, of feelings, of emotions, of sentiments, mean shit...you need to learn a new language...the language of accounting, of adding up figures...of even out...

This is the language they understand...speak to them in the language they understand.

You may never recover your home, your protective shell, but at least you would have learned a new language. You have been taught a new language for well over 9 years now... Speak it. And speak it well.

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