The Ambiguous Odyssey

There is some sort of unspoken of serenity in watching the windows while the air raids occur. It's as if the more I stare the less likely it will be our turn. You think you'll grow accustomed to the bombings but you don't. Every time a missile hits the ground it feels like the first day. Even after the raid stops I still await the next hit or when it will in fact be me. A shudder then a loud boom. I am impressed by the strength of my frail window made of steel and glass. I know at some time, some year, I will no longer hear an air raid, but by then I'll be too accustomed.   A bomb dropped while Yemenis were paying their condolences to the martyred president With every bomb drop I wonder why me? What makes me so special? Why hasn't my youth been stolen? These war crafts have destroyed everything dear to us. They've killed our president, and with every passing day I wonder when this will end? When will we get the chance to move forth? It's funn...

Lord, as time goes by it is hard to look back or reminisce upon anything. Maybe I try my best to avoid looking back or even peeking because it hurts to look back into a time that is no longer tangible, a life that is no longer ours. It is hard to move forth without -genuinely- moving forth. So, dear Lord I come here as your humble sinner asking you for the strength to endure these coming days, the power to see further than these simple minds. Enlighten me with your wisdom to see these men as more than what they utter; as humans, as wholes. It's becoming such a hard journey from darkness to light because dear Lord there is so much darkness encompassing my days. Lord, how can I see the good in the world, the future ahead with some glimpse of undecided hope? Where as I grow older I fear I won't be worth the wrinkles I’ll be wearing on my face if I haven't made a change, if I continue accepting their square shaped brains and raven black hearts. It has become a disgust...

It’s been a   month since I began writing this blog, but it just became harder to post each day that passed. I can’t identify why I have this constant feeling of fatigue; the unwillingness to make any effort to do anything at all. That being said, I made a vow to continue blogging, so here’s my attempt to complete my unfinished piece. Four. That’s all we are four helpless, defenseless women and a cat. My mother, her elder sister, my elder sister, and myself; the four of us in our 3 story home showered by rockets and missiles. We’ve had a tough week since Saturday, December 2 the day Tarek Saleh’s militias took over our neighborhood and placed a real live cannon on the ground and real live assassins on the rooftops. I genuinely believed I would die. Yes, I’ve been showered by missiles and rockets since march 25th, 2015, but in some absurd way assassins are much more alarming then rockets falling from the sky. So the first two days we were panicking because our fridge was near e...

Why did this happen? How did we grow so numb to all the damage happening? When did we become so passive? Yemen is on the brink of the world’s worst famine. We are isolated due to the Saudi led coalition’s decision to block our access to the world. Fuel has risen up to 60%. The dollar is escalating rapidly. People are out of jobs. Children are hungry. There is a cholera outbreak. What more is left? this is by all means genocide.   We’ve been under a constant shower of air raids for the past 962 days. We wake up every day and defy death, but now not only do we fear death by a missile n ow we fear death by starvation. Saudi has no right to isolate us from the world. And the world has no right to turn the other cheek to what’s happening in Yemen. You are all held accountable for every death happening here. Every soul. Every martyr. Every orphan. You are all taking part in this brutal, inhumane war.

In my tender, brutal days I’ve come to learn that connections can’t be enforced, some things are inherent, a natural reflex. We grow up believing that emotions are always two sided, that even the dark days aren’t that dark, to some extent that might be true, but as we evolve mentally we realize that life is far from fair. As we move forth we conclude that our connections may reach a certain depth then break off, and that is ok. It’s okay to end a link even if it’s a blood link. Nothing is worth than enforcing emotions, enforcing a connection. Blood links are the hardest to surpass but sometimes they are the most toxic ties we have. Letting go of that string is scary, but in time you’ll learn how to fly. Be brave and have faith in your strength; most importantly have faith in your self, even if you feel like your frail and weak. You have so much more to give back to this world as you stand solely at the top of your summit about to take off. You don’t need those chains to rise,...

It is one thing to state you love yourself and a whole different thing to literally love yourself. At eighteen I’ve learned that loving yourself is such a hard battle, yes, a battle. A battle between the taste you’ve acquired and the tang you deserve. You can’t transcend into a higher level if you are held back by all the expectations. No, this can’t be blamed on society this is us. We chose to let our happiness constantly be a verdict made by whoever we have grown fond of. It is time we arise from the rubble we have created subconsciously. What we have become is our own doing. Playing the blame game takes us nowhere and I know this very well, I’ve been playing it for as long as I can remember. I know writing how strong I wish to be won’t actually make me strong, and I know actions speak louder than words, but I believe having my words visible to the world might pressure me to pressure me. We are stronger than we think we are and yes, maybe we’ve long lost who we truly are, but nothin...

I have learned that a fresh start must start at your mind before any other place. Trust me the decisions that are made from the inside are so much harder than those externally edited yet much less visible. It takes 21 days for an action to become a habit, that's 21 days too long. It will take me 21 days to be me again but this void is so compelling to continue living in. I am trying to motivate myself, to create an illusion of a finish line but I know too fondly that there is nothing. I mean doing the bare minimum drains me, how will I push myself forward? I genuinely do not know, and from some perspective I pity myself for letting myself fall this low and even worse not pushing myself back up. So I am sorry me but the days are too long and we're together for 24 hours too long and I can't think of more escapes from me. I am sorry for all the years I pushed me past my limits to only land us here. I am sorry for selling myself out. I am sorry for the way this turned out. I am...