Eternal

Those who are free will never die.

Today I’ve tested blood, and anger, and despair, and hope and love, love, love, inconvenient, incredible, ridiculous, painful love. Love for a land that will not yield, love for a people that will not cave, love for a standing humanity that refuses to crawl.

They’ve chased me up today, up and down the streets of my sacred city, throwing tear gas at me, aiming at my head and my back, they tried to shoot me, they saw blood and death and injuries and cheered with delight. The fools! They think they’ll choke us up with smoke, they think they’ll strangle the revolution, they’ll think if they beat us hard enough they’ll silence us.

Tell them, go, run and take our message with you, tell them: we shall not know silence until we are free at last, we shall not know peace of mind until we’ve gotten rid of all of you, we shall not abandon our fate to the hands of the mediocre, we shall stand and run and scream until you are deaf with our will, until your cowardly ways are shown to the world and dealt with. Go, run, run and tell them: we are not afraid, our cause is eternal, our right to bread, natural, our thirst for justice beyond what your mind can grasp.

Do not whimper for your friends, for they have forsaken you and will not ask twice about your health, they will look for others to do their dirty work and we will fight them again, for we only know one word now, and that word is ENOUGH, for we only breathe one word now, and that word is ENOUGH, for we only live for one word now, and that word is ENOUGH.

Today I’ve tested blood, and anger, and despair, and hope and love, love, love, inconvenient, incredible, ridiculous, painful love. Today I’ve watched as blood trickled down the beautiful faces of the women of my land, melting in the chestnut and black of their hair, I’ve watched as they yelled, oblivious, at the evils of a regime.

Today I took my fist and raised it to the sun in an eternal gesture of resistance, and I’ll keep pounding the sky until my fist unfolds in a glorious V.¬†

Victory.

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En r√©ponse √† l’article Chr√©tienne de mon Pays de Richard al cham

Original article http://www.lorientlejour.com/category/Opinions/article/686396/Chretienne_de_mon_pays.html

“‚Ķle d√©veloppement complet d‚Äôun pays, le bien-√™tre du monde et la cause de la paix demandent la participation maximale des femmes √† √©galit√© avec les hommes, dans tous les domaines.“

Cher Homme de mon Pays,

Vous remarquerez tout d’abord que je ne sp√©cifie pas votre religion, le communautarisme ne m’int√©ressant que peu,

L’envie me prend, depuis la lecture de votre opinion dans l’Orient Le Jour, de vous transmettre avec beaucoup d’amiti√©, d’amour, de fraternit√©, ce petit message, en vous remerciant d’avance d’avoir l’amabilit√© de lire ces quelques lignes qui, je l’esp√®re vivement, ne seront pas mal interpr√©t√©es et vous inciteront, au moins, √† r√©flexion (cher ami, notez bien le m√™me ton paternaliste que j’adopte, le m√™me que vous avez cru bon d’utiliser en vous adressant aux femmes de votre pays, comme si elles √©taient si obtuses qu’il serait impossible de leur parler normalement)

Laissez moi r√©pondre point par point √† l’affligeant article dont vous nous avez gratifi√©. Premi√®rement, vous partez du postulat que toutes les femmes chr√©tiennes de votre pays ont √©t√© √©duqu√©es √† l’europ√©enne: rien n’est plus faux mon cher monsieur, la femme libanaise, chr√©tienne ou non, est multiple. Peut-√™tre le sauriez-vous si vous sortiez parfois de votre ghetto ashrafiote bourgeois.

Deuxi√®mement, laissez-moi vous rappeler quelque chose: les femmes, libanaises ou non, chr√©tiennes ou non, n’ont pas attendu d’√™tre √©duqu√©es √† l’europ√©enne ou √† la zimbabw√©enne non seulement pour se consid√©rer mais encore pour √™tre l’√©gale de l’homme en droits et en humanit√©. D√©claration Universelles de Droits de l’Homme, √ßa vous dit quelque chose? Article premier mon bon monsieur, article premier: Tous les √™tres humains naissent libres et √©gaux en dignit√© et en droits. Ils sont dou√©s de raison et de conscience et doivent agir les uns envers les autres dans un esprit de fraternit√©.

Ce n’est pas moi qui l’ai dit, c’est Charles Malek, qui a l’heure qu’il est, doit copieusement vous insulter.

Vous nous parlez de la Sainte Famille du Christ. Je ne me pr√©tends pas th√©ologienne, mais je me contenterai de vous rappeler les femmes fortes de la Bible, telles que Tamar, Ruth, la Vierge Marie, mais ce n’est m√™me pas la question. La v√©ritable question, c’est que vous √©rigez votre point de vue en v√©rit√© absolue et que vous vous permettez de pontifier √† l’envi sur les commandements de la Famille du Christ, avec des majuscules s’il vous pla√ģt. Mon Christ lavait les pieds des prostitu√©es et faisait taire les moralisateurs de votre esp√®ce, et j’aime √† l’imaginer ayant autre chose √† faire que de consigner les femmes √† la maison en hurlant au scandale si par malheur elles avaient le malheur d’√™tre heureuse par elles-m√™mes et pour elles-m√™mes.

A pr√©sent si vous le voulez bien, parlons de votre arrogance et de votre ins√©curit√©. Avez-vous peur √† ce point des femmes qui travaillent? Pourquoi? Avez-vous peur de perdre votre place dans la soci√©t√©? Il semblerait que vous consid√©riez les femmes non pas comme des √™tres humains dou√©s d’intelligence mais bel et bien comme de charmants animaux de compagnie dont la seule et unique vocation est de faire des enfants, de prendre soin de votre personne et surtout, surtout, de se taire (en portant les √©meraudes que vous vous proposez de lui offrir bien s√Ľr).

Cela me peine sinc√®rement de crever votre bulle mon cher ami, mais le monde ne vous a pas attendu pour reconna√ģtre √† la femme ses droits inali√©nables. Vos commentaires r√©actionnaires sur la place de la femme et de l’homme dans la famille ne m√©ritent m√™me pas que l’on s’y attarde, et je vous r√©pondrai donc par le droit international, obligations juridiquement contraignantes auxquelles votre pays, et MON pays mon cher ami, mon propre pays, s’est soumis. Je vous rappellerai donc la Convention sur l’Elimination de toutes Formes de Discrimination √† l’Egard des Femmes que le Liban a ratifi√©, et qui assurent aux femmes leurs droits inal√©nables, tel que le droit √† une vie priv√©e, le droit √† la participation √©conomique et politique, le droit √† la sant√©, le droit √† ne pas √™tre discrimin√©es et j’en passe. Je ne mens pas, je vous jure qu’un tel texte existe, au m√™me titre que la D√©claration de Beijing sur les Droits Sexuels (honte! Honte! Un tel mot est sorti de ma bouche) et la Sant√© Reproductive, et au m√™me titre que tous les textes des Droits de l’Homme, qui s’applique aux femmes √©galement, j’en ai bien peur.

Ecoutez-nous bien, mon frère, entendez-vous ce tonnerre qui gronde? Ce sont vos soeurs libanaises, de toute confessions, formes, couleurs, et politiques confondues qui vous chargent. Notre esprit est à nous. Notre corps est à nous. Et personne, et surtout pas des personnes paternalistes de votre espèce ne nous fera taire.

A bient√īt, vous nous verrez certainement en train de manifester pour que le Liban nous donne le droit de donner NOTRE nationalit√©, de NOTRE pays √† NOS enfants, entre autres choses bien s√Ľr.

Je serai vous, je déménagerai. 

My Name is Legion

Today I’m an Iranian resisting torture, I’m a Tunisian asking for justice. Today, I’m a Palestinian raising my fist against Occupation and Impunity, I’m an Egyptian who’s had enough of oppression. Today I’m a Lebanese, and I refuse point blank to go in the streets because some corrupt crook tried to bribe me to. Today, I take my flag and embrace it, I wear it proudly, twisting my poor flag across my body, willing it to protect me from the evils of those who have violated it.¬†

Today I’m pounding the streets of Tunis, of Beirut, of Cairo, of Ramallah and of Tehran, my name is Legion, my religion Revolution, I hold my head high, so high even death can’t force me to bow. I pound the streets and with each step my blood resonates in my ears, each thumps echoing my heart beating, the pulse playing the soundtrack to my woes.¬†

Today I’ve tasted blood, and sweat, and tears, but I don’t feel it, and I don’t care, my anger inhabiting me with such force I could rip my ribcage open and that would still not prevent me from carrying on, for today I’m redeeming myself and avenging my brothers.¬†

Today I’ve had enough of the years of humilitation, today I’ve decided that I’d rather be dead than live half a life because some power-hungry, US-supported thug decided to. Today I’m screaming Enough! at the top of my lungs, screaming so loudly amisdt the yelling crowd my voice dies in the chaos. Today I’m screaming like a new born, today I was indeed born again for I have discovered I had a voice, and that no one could ever silence it. Today I’ve discovered that even if they tried to, even if they beat me, arrested me, killed me, someone else would take my place, someone else would pound the streets of my sacred cities, for my name is Legion, revolution, my religion.¬†

Today I’ve decided no one can divide us against our will, today I’ve understood unity. Today, and tomorrow, and all the days that will follow, I will raise my fist and hold my head, high, so high even death won’t make me bow, I will let the sun kiss my face and warm my woes. Today, no one can silence me, I’ll force them to see my humanity, for my name is Legion, my religion, Revolution.¬†

Down Under

For Hind and Maya (and myself really), for when we just want to go uuuuuufffffftttt with life, with the hope it’ll make you smile

Down under…The Duvet I mean.¬†

Let He, or She, or Thee who has never felt the extreme urge to NOT get out of under the duvet cast the first stone. Ooooh come on, you know what I mean. Those awful days when you wake up, have a good look at the world/your life/all of the above and go “uh oh, not gonna happen today”. Those awful days when all you only really want to do is stay in bed, do nothing except chronically obsess on things and thoughts, all wide eyed and panicky, the sweat drenching the sheets making them cling to your limp body (also known as having a panic attack) (also known as it being 4 ‘clock in the morning and you feeling so awake you’re deconstructing your life and the world and building it up back again). Those days where lifting your hand to grab a glass of water is considered a performance that could (and should) qualify for the Olympics.¬†

Granted there are a few reasons that make taking to bed so alluring: 

-You can chain smoke without having to suffer the wrath of politically correct clean air obsessed intruders (note: this SHOULD not be allowed if you’re drunk or a rock star or both, too many accidents might happen and let’s face it, you’re having a bad day but dying burnt alive in your bed would only make it worse)

– You can read and read and read and read, which would undeniably make you feel better. Whenever I feel nauseous with life, my remedy lies with Armistead Maupin’s Tales of the City, easy yet witty yet entertaining literature that usually manages to take me far enough from my anxieties, but any book would do (except perhaps Danielle Steel’s novels, but are they really novels and could they qualify as books?)

РYou can wallow in self pity. Tucked away from the world, curled up in your bed in the safety of lavender-scented sheets, you can let all your Zelda Fitzgerald drama queen-esque sentiments transpire while the rest of the world is out there dealing with life. The fools! Better bawling your eyes out, redecorating your room with tissues 

– You can listen to some extremely depressing music (Joy Division, Love will Tear Us Apart, just listen to those lyrics) and really feel what they mean jaknow? Like, Right on brother

But enough laughing, your alarm clock’s ringing, you’re already late for work, so stop toying with the idea of being rooted to your bed until the men in white come to remove you with a truck. Truth is, staying in bed all wide-eyed and dishevelled is just pointless, useless and, most of all, so mind-fuckingly just plain boring. True, it might be easier than going out to deal with the world, but really, kicking ass while prostrated in bed just lacks a bit of panache don’t you think?