Suppression of Expression..coming soon home

There is an ultimate state of Freedom in Writing.

It is a real gift that liberates one’s mind, soul and hence, being.

I have been feeling like this lately …

I always say that I am a woman who tried to be free. To taste freedom in anything that surrounds me living in the state that doesn’t have any freedom. Being under occupation is no luxury when it comes to such feelings.

You are always surrounded with that ceiling that is not the sky. Like walking and living in an open jail. Like animals within a wired safari.

I just closed a novel under the name Guantanamo for the Egyptian novelist Youssef Zeidan, and I couldn’t but think, of the state of being indulged in the emotional mess of yourself when you live in the worse situation that can be. Jailed in the hidden hollows of Guantanamo. Surviving or not surviving the unsurvivable. You just breathe, and they can make sure you are not dead, and you can eat so that you don’t starve. Life on this verge of no life and no death.

Then if this wasn’t enough. What takes place between the prisoners is beyond the comprehension of anyone’s mind. Finding oneself swallowed form one cell of darkness into another cell of hollowness. The holy and the hollow met there in harmony.

Talking about this, and meeting Nawal Sa’dawi who proudly says: “Jail is a beautiful experience.”

And then me writing an article that didn’t sound right in the ears of the PA. I understand … they don’t like my articles. Even though they should. I am just trying to stir a rational call before things go into a final catastrophic end. That seems unavoidable.

What has been happening recently? A sentence I may have started this way for years now. This recently has become our way of life. But since the eruption of the current affairs of killing and demonstrations. One cannot just stand still watching all being passive about it and just allowing it to continue.

There is a problem. There is a catastrophe taking place. It needs to be resolved.

Instead … it is just getting worse.

Before the eruption of the current state of affairs, and when the corruption became the only left thing that defines this PA. People like me may have withdrawn drawn entirely thinking let’s just stay home, raise our kids and have a life that may be possible outside this mess. It is not easy to be passive. It is like giving yourself pills that will get you to your end in time.

We always think that there is a need for a change. There is a drastic need for change. We need elections, and this is the minimum that can take place.

We live in an abducted boat that is drowning.

Between losing hope and taking a passive position in the society, and between getting scared is also another THICK line of what defines the current affairs.

I live in the havens of Jerusalem, where “holiness” has its effects sometimes. It is not that Israel has its better margins of freedom of expression. But there is at least some common sense. People don’t simply disappear. And the stories we hear about what happens to the unknown hollow world of security and intelligence forces is only known by the creators and those with the unknown destinies.

It often happened that I was worried. But then I think. I don’t insult anyone. I use proper terms. I am critical. Being critical is an obligation that serves everyone in this situation.

I do understand that people vary in the way they express themselves. I do also understand people’s interests and calculations. But standing up for what should be our minimal rights is an obligation. It is not against a government or pro it. It is about living well. Living right. Living free.

Amid this state of fanatic life that surrounds us. Freedom of expression is the least we can have. The freedom to be critical. The freedom to say no to the mess that surrounds us. The freedom to ask questions. The freedom to demand answers. The freedom to acquire a sense of liberty.

The freedom to ask whom the hell has the right to sabotage our rights in living with the minimal rights in expressing ourselves. The freedom to question those no sense assignments. The freedom to refuse to transform this country into one faction or another. The freedom to say that we are sick of this.

The freedom to say that the president needs to look beyond the shield of his Muqataa and those whom he consults with.

The freedom to say it is a mess.

We are sick of it …

The freedom to stay free…

I don’t’ want to experience prison… I am no Nawal Sa’dawi…

I am just a woman who wants to be free…

And freedom from oppression and occupation cannot be.

And not to be scared to go to Ramallah when I want to go …

I am already afraid to be in any place in the other side of this occupied existence….

I don’t like Ramallah. But I don’t like to be scared to go !!!