How would they react?

The attack continues, more blood are shed, more little ones live in a constant state of fear, many orphaned, many widowed, many left disabled, many have sleepless nights, many hungry, many despite all of that, still are strong.

The thunderstorm, the lightning and the heavy rain, did they arrive to wash away the pain or to wash away the sins of us sitting silent when our brothers and sisters suffer. Did they arrive to give us a miniture experience of what its like to hear a bomb, did that scare you? in the comfort of your home? you know it is a thunder storm and that you are not in a war zone. They say prayers are heard when you say them when it is raining, did they arrive to give us that chance?

I am sick to my stomach, God knows I've lost weight, I've lost appetite and I've been working like a mad woman just to block the pain out. This whole ordeal feels like having your own sister being raped while forced to watch and forced to be quiet. How disgusting is that? it only is getting worse.

I attended the Dubai care event, to put together a school bag for the children of Gaza. I had a mixture of feelings while there, I tried my best to stay focused as I neede to DO something to help rather than just give. It felt like a breath half taken, when you took some but not enough, or like a yawn that was disturbed in the middle of yawning. Can't describe it, but I feel a little better than just reading and watching the news and just shedding sad, shameful tears.

A mix of people, mostly Palestinians, Lebanese, Syrian and Jordanians,Indians alot of local girls, about 10 local men, several white people and few chinese.
It was busy, alittle confusing at the begining, but slowly they tables started having a pace and peole just worked like bees. I don't understand why we need Caucasians to run these events for us? its good that it happened, but I am sure that a local girl would have done a great job at organizing that kind of an event.

As I filled the bags with the pens and pencils and all the other goodies, I wondered who's tiny fingers will unzip the bag I packed, who's tiny fingures would not have that chance. I imagined how would they react upon recieving them, would they get excited as any other kids, would they be dissapointed hoping to find something else inside? Would they feel bad for their brothers or sisters who missed the opportunity, would they feel guilty about enjoying something the rest of the family did not get to enjoy when they were one?

It was no suprise I returned feeling drained, emotinoally drained.

I am tired

Guilty

If you decide to drive into my lane last minute, I think you should be prepared to catch up to my speed.

That's a daily experience for me, what makes me mad, is the fact, if he/she waited until I passed, there were no cars behind me and they could have taken their time to build some speed.

I am tired of whinning about this, so here it is for the first and last time on my blog.

Men, sometimes I feel I can pain them with one brush and say, they are all the same. The core issues are the same, some slight variation in the way they look, dress, their size, their sociability and their ability to joke and spend money, other than that, the mentality, east, west, north or south, is the same...believe me. I will write a book about it that will make Freud turn in his grave.


No wonder I am not married. No wonder.

It is a sad weekend. With all that is happening in Gazza and the silence from all the Arab neighbouring countries, with me just writing about it, with the passing away of Sheikh Rashid Al Mualla. I can't feel but guilty for being able to have a quiet night, a full stomach and sleepy eyes. Life is not fair, if only my heartaches will reduce their suffering, I would stay up and relive the feeling I got just watching those little ones, the innocent men and women on T.V, their body shattered and torn by the deadly, sickly weapons from Israelis.

When will their pain come to an end, when will Palestine be ours again.