Who am I ? The eternal Question . Have not figured it out fully yet. All you need to know about me is that I am a Middle Easterner, an Arab Woman - old enough to know better. I have no homeland per se...All the rest is icing on the cake. Copyrights reserved 2006-2020
Homecoming - Split in Two.
Hello Blog, long time, been two years, did not miss you much, missed Iraq though, the Iraq of my memories, niched somewhere refusing to be forgotten.
I do not miss the current Iraq, it's gone to the dogs, split in two, three and maybe even four.
Talking about splits. Remember that thing I devoted a whole post in its "honor". if you click on the link, you will get to see its "beautiful face". Anyway I received this from it dated 8 July 2016 (here is its 2 minutes of online fame)
"I hope someone sticks in sword in your rotten vagina and splits you in two.
Ive decided that its been a while since you have been degraded . I plan for you an online equivalent of Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo all rolled in one ....stay tuned."
What better way to write again, without this lovely invitation ?
Not that I wish to beef up that thing, beef up the inexistent part, that need beefing up and sexing up to use Tony Blair words before the United States and not so Great Britain decided to rape Iraq and split it in two or three or four.
Maybe I am after all, Iraq's Vagina. The Iraq's Vagina in the collective unconscious of Cyber space. Maybe my Iraqi Vagina, is the lieu where all lust and death meet, where transcendence happens, where living animals get ejaculated, propelled, like missiles, in search of an ovum, a territory to fecundate, into a new world order. Giving birth to the New Middle East, the Birth Pangs in blood with no Cesarean.
Cesarean, you call them in America, C-section, possibly because you can't pronounce Cesarean. Maybe in your immense knowledge Cesarean means to you Caesar as in Caesar Salad. Forget Caesar the Emperor, am not counting on you for History.
Iraq and my Vagina are to be split in two, My Iraqi Vagina is to be split in two. Why persevere ? It already happened. I delivered in C-Sections....cretinous cunt sections....each section has its own cretinous cunt...tiny emperors emerged from my Iraqi vagina, with the charisma of fleas...fleas gathering on dead corpses, carcasses so putrid, so rotten that even vultures wish not to approach.
What are you persevering for ? There must be something more, something else ....It must be that this Iraqi territorial vagina is so tasty, or that it holds more treasures, that you haven't managed to reach...and maybe will never reach.
All this lust and death impulses in vain, no transcendence for you...however hard you try.
Iraq will forever elude you, missiles, bombs and all....you have not penetrated its soul, for its soul is a fortress, a vagina within a vagina...and its womb a caldron, that will burn whoever nears it without reverence.
This is the Hell that is Iraq to use Saddam's final words...a hell you haven't fully tasted yet.
P.S : Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo are just appetizers, a foretaste for you... Enjoy.
On rare occasions one is graced with a few seconds of insights. And in those rare seconds of insights one is shown the world. And what you see is Truth. The world is a mental asylum in a huge garden. Every single person in that garden believes they are sane when in fact he /she is in a mental asylum. And like any mental asylum it has sections - section A, section B, section C .etc... These sections are what you call - continents. And within this sections just like in a mental asylum there are Units . Unit 1, unit 2, unit 3.. These are what you call in your language -- countries. And within these units you have the rooms and in the rooms are the patients. And just like in a mental asylum, they allowed out depending on the severity of their cases. Some are encouraged to make friends meet other people marry , some are encouraged to study, some are told to seek occupational therapy what you call work others are told to engage in play therapy or art therapy or music therapy. and
I suppose you still remember the lesson of my last class where I taught you some basic Iraqi dialect. I now see that some serious rehearsal took place since that last lesson - Everything you need to know about Shoes - and resulted in some empirical knowledge in the application of shoes. Let us recap from Lesson 1 : PAPPAZ = STOOGE, PUPPET, CLOWN, JESTER... BOOMA = VERY STUPID/DUMB ENTA KUNDARA = You're a Shoe. Or, IBN Al-KUNDARA = Son of a Shoe. Or, SHLON KUNDARA = What a Shoe! WIJHAK WIJH AL-KUNDARA = Your face is like a shoe. BIL KUNDARA = a threatening remark involving the potential use of a shoe. But I thought to myself, should I ever retire from my "educational" role, would my conscience be satisfied ? The answer is NO. I feel I failed to teach you more essentials from the Iraqi vocabulary and I fear that your empirical applied knowledge of shoes would not have the full desired impact. Hence prepare yourselves for another lesson in Iraqi colloquial.
Nothing I say or write must be taken in absolute terms. Why ? Because I myself don't take myself absolutely seriously...and that for "philosophical" reasons. Cut the chase as the Yankees say -- so I will cut the chase and get to the meat. Am here again... Am here again because I been banned from the Social media platform I use. I haven't stop writing except in a lazy way -- not that am intellectually lazy myself -- people are lazy very lazy with short attention spans . 140 characters is all they can handle and even that proves too much -- because most of the time they too fucking engrossed in their own navel -- Narcissism of the most blatant type is the ordre du Jour. So I don't take being excluded/ banned very well. I say what I have to say. Mind you it won't be something terribly new -- but it is a confirmation of what I have said before -- the liberals progressives left leanings are the most politically disgraceful hypocrites around. Of that am n