FREEDOME OF MIND

Far and Away


When I left Baghdad, 4 years ago, I didn't take anything with me, except a suitcase full of memories. Memories I knew I was going to need. Memories that can feed my soul when its hungry, memories that can make me laugh when I am blue, memories that can make me cry, memories that can give me hope, hope that I will once again, no matter how long it takes, go back to where these memories were planted, take their seeds, and plant new ones.
Memories of early childhood, of which nothing is left, except of a mental picture of me holding a football and a hat over my curly blond hair, memories of the first school, the first friends, memories of the first football game, memories of how innocent I was, of how innocent the world was. Memories of the first steps into teenage hood, new friends, new life, accomplishments in school that did not satisfy my parents so I just gave up, a long hair that wont straighten up, growing up, getting close to the lord, watching people speak in strange tongues after a long period of prayer, dressing as a Muppet to cheer up orphans, growing up again. College, new friends, new life again, memories of a long lost love, that tormented both of us more than it made us happy, lies, deceit, breaking up, letting her go, oh those cherry lips and almond eyes still haunt me, oh what would I give to just get a glimpse at those eyes, just to get that look that says “ I know you, I know all of you”, memories of exams, my buddy walking in his sleep, staying up all night just chatting like there was no tomorrow, going to the exam without studying anything and laughing about it, good friends, true friends, memories of the dreams we had for our future, how settled everything was, memories of how each and every one of us didn't know what he was going to do, but it made no difference because we all got each other, an accident, then a trip, the most amazing trip in the history on mankind, of which I have the pictures to prove, the only pictures I have, courtesy of a true friend. Memories of staying behind, meeting new people, believing that it doesn't matter anymore because the end is near, trying convince people that it's not about the man, its about the country, then ….. The END.
The end of what we once knew, and the start of something that I can not understand no matter how hard I tried. I can not understand how the victim becomes a criminal, the criminal gets rewarded, and how they turned it all into politics. Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to tell you that our prime minister has never had sex in his life. He said that Sabrin, the women who his militias raped, did not suffer any injuries, scratched, or wounds in the vaginal area. Those of you who had sex would know that sexual intercourse itself, though forced, does not cause wounds in the vaginal area, except if the victim was a virgin, a claim Sabrin never made.
She is a criminal, they say, she is wanted for several crimes. Why did you let her go then? A prostitute? Does being a prostitute justify getting raped? I don't know about you but that is not a good reason for me, unless you don't think of a prostitute as a humane being.
A criminal, a whore, wanted for many charges. The wolves ate the lamb, and the Shepherd brushed their teeth. Shepherd? Give me a feakin break.
They raped the whole country, what's one more woman? One more child? One more innocent? One more innocence? Our innocence?
Raped? You are not alone Sabrin, they raped all of us. They raped us of our future, our present, our past. They raped the memories we left behind. They raped the humane being inside of me, they want me to become a beast, but I can't. I just can't do it. I just can't forget the humane being, I just can't leave all my memories behind, I just can't leave my innocence behind, I just can't forget my curly blond hair, I just can't be a beast. I just can't.
I just want to be humane; I just want to live as a humane. I just want to see others as humans. I can't bear these inhumane crimes, I just can't understand rape, I can't understand killing, I can't understand how someone could defend the rapists and the murders. I don't understand how they didn't even bother looking into it.
Maybe I should lock myself in my room, and open my empty suitcase that is full of memories. Memories of men, memories of men with honor, Memories of a time when honor meant the world to men. Memories of times when we were brothers, I still remember my brothers, I still love my brothers. But they forgot about me.

posted by LORD @ 2:39 PM