Monday, November 27, 2006

Amongst the dead

What does the dead do? When somebody dies… where does he or she go? When 200 people die at the same time, what do they do? Their bodies lying on the ground, most of them torn, their brains shattered on the sidewalk, a hand there, and arm here, a leg just around the corner. Is that mine? Is that yours? Do they really die? And what does the living do? What do they do when they see the dead? Do they see the dead? They see bodies and body parts, but do they really see the dead?
Because the dead don’t just go, they don't just disappear after they put their bodies 6 feet under, they linger… they are invisible, very few people can see them. Let me elaborate a little. People… walking around in the marketplace, boooooooooom, dead… dead…. Also dead. But are they really dead? They are still here, invisible, unseen… they don't talk, they don't ask questions, they don't wonder where they are or why there are here, because it makes no difference for the dead. They why and what and who is no longer a matter, for what purpose seems a very ridiculous question, to what end is not a matter of interest anymore, because…. This is the end.
These questions only torture the living, not the dead. They linger, they stay, they cease to exist in our world, they exist in a world of there own.
They linger… they wait, they don’t go to a bright place, they don’t the light, they just wait, they walk, just walk. They wait for the other dead… they wait to take their brothers with them, their burned brothers. One boom here, another burned there, it doesn’t matter to them, they are just company. It doesn’t matter for the dead how or why you died, it only matters that you died, you are just new company. They welcome you with empty eyes, and a faint smile. There in no torture, no pain, no agony, no wait, nothing left, all is gone, there is no start, there is no gain, there is no loss, there is nothing, just the wait.
But does the living care? Do they weep? Do they shout in pain? Do they mourn? No…. they kill. They unconsciously know that the dead need company, so they give them company.
They don’t care; they don’t give a fuck. They live for the kill, until they are dead, until it doesn’t matter anymore.
Where do you live? Amongst the living? Amongst the dead? What questions do you ask yourself when go to sleep? What do you think you are when you close your eyes? Can you close your eyes? Can you not dream on the dead? Do you know they are standing right beside you? Do you know that they can see through you? They can see you dreams, they can see what you really think, they can see who you really are even if you don’t know who you really are.
Where are you? Where am I? Am I dead? Am I living? I don’t feel like living, and I can't see the dead. Is there something wrong with my eyes? Is there something wrong with your eyes? Is there something wrong with your ears? Can't you see? Can't you hear? Can't you feel? How can you go on living with all those dead around you? How can you feel joy with all this pain around you? I can't. How much is enough? More then 200 a day is enough for the prime minister to get upset. How much is enough for him to get angry? How much more does he need to actually do something? How much you all need to actually do something? To actually feel something?
I wish I could die and join my brothers, I wish I could die so I can go to those who talk over and over about democracy and humane rights and see what they really are. I wish I could die and see this drunk crazy man, whom you call the leader of the free world, for what he really is.
I wish I could die and go see my father for one last time, I wish I could die and go see my house for one last time, I wish I could die and go see my friends for one last time, I wish I could die and go see Baghdad, my beautiful Baghdad, as it was for one last time, I wish I could die so these tears blurring my vision could go away.
I wish I could be amongst the dead, I wish I could see the dead. That more do you want from me?
It's a comfort to the wretched to have had companions in misery


At 10:37 AM, Blogger jae said...

"I wish I could die so these tears blurring my vision could go away."

The tears would go away, but so would the caring heart that brought them.

You are needed here, alive.


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