An Arab Woman Blues - Reflections in a sealed bottle...

Hello Blogger my old friend... Hello darkness my old friend,I  came to talk with you again...because a vision softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping and the vision that was planted in my brain, still remains, within the sound of silence. I came to disturb the sound of silence. I love disturbing people...I was always told that I was a nuisance. I lived up to the expectations of me. Silence as a cancer grow... I can assure you, you have tumors growing in you, the size of grapefruits... Why you hate grapefruits ? I was told am a nuisance...I just love annoying you...in between the soda and popcorn breaks... What ? am I to announce my own funeral -so you can rest in peace ? Would you like to see the last living one of us signing her own death warrant ? Am sure you would, in between breaks of soda and popcorn... I love the way my words pop don't you ? I love popping them like corn on a hot stove Just to remind you of the sound of silence.

I am breaking my silence with ruins....this is a wound that will never heal, not even in my afterlife. I need not explain much, as I have already explained much in the past. You  are the ones who will be doing much explanation on the Day of Reckoning. You don't have to watch the testimonies of the living,  if you don't want to, if you can't spare your precious empty time, a time devoid of substance... But you are being watched, observed....and all is transcribed, noted down,  recorded...all.  And even if your consciences are dead, there is the One that is Alive and never dies.

I am a terribly disorganized female...I find order in chaos...I am not structured, nor methodic...am a willow...a weeping willow... I bend, yield, like bamboo that seeks growth in mud water...that's my nature. I also lose passwords in the mud...trying to survive the mud. You must have a password...or you can't get through...I have a password and I keep loosing it, or it keeps being changed. I am told to write, when my muse left me in the mud...I am told -- write anyway... tell them, while bent, about willow trees...weeping willows and weeping widows... tell them about orphaned girls tell them about the severity of life and the severity of survival... tell them, for they are a people living in satin like...illusions. Tell them...and dig stories out of your old ragged sack tell them when it is not satin nor velvet tell them...for passwords are meant for all.

Today is Valentine's and this is the sectarian Shiite government of Maliki demonstration of love for the Iraqi people. This is a rushed translation. I have translated the gist. An Iraqi man with his family, has his home bombed destroyed. including all electrical outlets, (electricity is still a big deal in Iraq 11 years on and to get electricity you have to invest much in terms of money and ingenuity to get an electrical current). Furthermore this man has disabled children - he points to the wheel chair. His house is now unlivable, he has to leave - exiled within his own country. Here is the translation : Maliki - you coward, may God debase you. Today is Friday, you destroyed our electricity, why,   what have we done to you, you burnt our electrical outlet, we are also muslims. You coward, you unbeliever, you Farissi (Persian), you apostate. I have disabled children , this is her wheelchair, you exiled us, may God exile you in Hell. This is my...