Another quiet end of night.
It is still hard to comprehend.
It all feels dreamlike.
Nightmare likes to be precise.
Like those times in a dream that you wake up from feeling it was real.
You could touch it.
You try to grasp whatever memories left from it to understand.
Try to rationalize the wisdom behind it.
Maybe it was more than a dream.
A vision. Something higher than just another dream.
There were expectations of stronger confrontations today after the funeral of Mohammad Abu Khdeir.
The encounter took place.
There was a massive funeral in Shu’fat.
After the Iftar confrontations were moving from one neighborhood to the other like fireworks.
In our road, it was lesser than last night.
I am not sure if this is the social media surreal sensation.
Everything is too close and too far at the same time.
There is a riot here, a riot there and there.
It is spreading to the Palestinian cities inside the 1948 areas.
The question if it is good or not still buzzes in my thoughts.
Something wants this to stay.and something is scared to hell.
I am not sure why. Could it be the age? The lack of confidence in what we can do?
But who are we?
Those youngsters in the streets?
It is evident that it is spontaneous and held by teenagers.
Where are the grown-ups, besides people like me who are sheepishly hiding behind their windows trying to take a photo here and there, and posting slogans for freedom and resistance on social media?
Where is the official leadership?
It is striking how we are split into blocks geographically and mentally.
Gaza is taking its share, and it is scarcely mentioned.
Ramallah is like Singapore or Dubai. Hebron is gathering its losses of the last three weeks.
Jerusalem. Teenagers are taking in their hands the tears of the martyr’s bereaved mother.
The result of the autopsy is shocking.
The boy was burnt alive after forcing him to drink gasoline.
The autopsy report says that his lungs were smoked.
The pictures and the reports of assaults from settlers all over are horrifying. A teenager from the bereaved family was beaten brutally by the Israelis.
A ten-year-old in Beit Hanina (kiswani) (another one, not Zalloum) was saved from another kidnapping attempt in Beit Hanina.
A boy in Wad El Joz is reported missing.
Settlers were caught in Ramallah.
A youth near to Nablus was assaulted by settlers who thrusted his leg.
The testimony of the parents and the family of Abu Khdeir about the Israel forces threatening them to sign for a statement that the boy was killed on family disputes, and threatening them not to give them back the corpse the day before the funeral.
A state of collective punishment?
Does it really matter?
Same questions are still roaming in my head … is this a real start for a new phase? Do we Palestinians still have this sense of resistance or is it just a blur for a few days?
Where are Abu Mazen and his leadership?
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Yes, what is so sad that the “leaders” are silent and cannot stop the violence. This is when one knows the Greater Power must be relied upon. Prayers to you and all.
I like your writing but not the hell you write about… I pray for you and yours. B well.
thank u … i feel the same way))
An older blog post but I think this pain could still be written today, and it pains me. Even if the story changes a little or the location changes, it never stops. The first comment about relying on a greater power – how well has that worked? That alone must make you question what you believe because I don’t think all the prayers that have been said has changed anything. Maybe the truth you thought was truth that you were taught by family and community are just stories passed down and changed as needed, because it is a bad joke if there had been something “up there” listening to all of the death and destruction and did nothing to help. So maybe that is the first belief you should question.