.

Racing emotions in a systematic circle of occupied life.

So the kidnapping game turned into a death match.

I don’t know how to interpret my feelings. When I heard that the missing settlers were found dead.

The word death is by itself a large name. A word is so powerful. Despite the will of all powers.

It is the end game. (Full stop)

I have to admit that it is hard to express complete honesty in this. What happened to me in those moments that I was saddened by the news? It wasn’t the idea that they were dead. It was more of the idea of there would be no compensations, something that felt like an end of a battle. One should know that this is how we Palestinians celebrate victories and mourn defeats. They are always momentarily and most of the time ridiculous. There are no real victories; the word victory is too big to be used in any given situation in our case. And the word defeat is more of an accompanying partner to our existence, what if we experience another failure?

What did I feel? I often hate Israel for this. For stripping away from us the normal feelings. Feelings such as these. Such as mourning on a loss of a human life. Even feelings of Remorse.

Admittedly, I did feel sad. For instances that I cannot recall, because, somewhere fast and in between the scenes of freshly murdered Palestinians were passing in a row in my mind.

I don’t know how my feeling could be built up actually. For an instant I was thinking, oh God, dead. My mind was in that instant racing to their families. The next moment was jumping over that instant telling me, now what, another retaliation from Israel tonight? If the idea of missing \kidnapping made Israel kidnap children and raid villages and cities. What would they do now for three dead Israelis? Another instant was overlapping trying to normalize the feeling telling me, what if three Israelis die. Palestinian youth, children are killed like birds hunting by Israeli army every other day. Why is an Israeli dead different than a Palestinian dead. Why would an Israeli have a name, a family, a nation when he dies, and a Palestinian is just another number in the toll of fired bullets?

But, whatever it is, being saddened for more eruption of violence that is about to explode. Our violence as people, simultaneously erupts here and there, throwing a rock or stone. Burning a tire in the street. Breaking glass of a police car (a Palestinian police car). Lighting candles with solidarity. Striking in the square. Kidnapping settler hitchhikers, killing them. …And their violence as a government, systematically killing more youth and children. More detentions and arrests. Demolishing more home. Putting cities and villages under closure. More raids. More devastation …

A circle of a systematic chaotic violence between an oppressor and oppressed.

Reflection on …. : A story of a nationJUNE 28, 2014 / NADIA HARHASH / EDITA story of a nation in two people .A Palestinian lossA cause thrashingAn ongoing DiasporaA continuous expatriationAn identity that remains …solid , humane , pureThough covered with burdens of miseries and mixtures of blended sorrows and difficultiesA story of a Palestinian lost cause , and a shattered dream of two souls .An attempt of collecting two souls in one story of a nation ,Though taking place sometimes at a refugee camp or a city .A forced expulsion or a voluntarily exile …Both living in an inner exile among people ,beyond space and regions.Sorrow of a long history of a nation , filled with agony and despairAnd yetPowerful and determined as a deeply rooted olive treeFilled with humanity of a whole universeSurrounded with a spirit of a holy creation.Two hearts that bond jointly beyond Space and PlaceBeyond Darkness and ShadowsAhead of culture and evolutionFurther than History and PastNurtured with a hope for a presentAnd a dream of a tomorrow that remainedFor long , a dream of a nationA dream of a lost nation for liberation and freedom5-11-2010

via Reflection on …. : A story of a nation.