Well, to be honest I’d form an emotional attachment to a rock if it inspired my tortured, old, artistic soul. Is that a flaw or a super power? Don’t answer! One of my favorite things to do, is looking up at the sky, and visualizing the shapes created by the clouds. That qualifies as a hobby right? Sky gazing? I bet its right up there with hiking. Or bull riding. I mean, its creative (I think), engaging(the voice in my head is highly opinionated on such riveting matters), fun(its like trashy live TV. I swear I once saw pigs riding a bike), and squinting my eyes, straining my neck up for hours is the only exercise I’ll ever need.
And before you ask. No, I don’t do drugs. And yes, you’re right. I have no friends!.
Every time I look up, its a reminder that nature is truly its own Picasso. Have you ever taken a moment to appreciate just how beautiful our natural world is? Its…. Its Euphonious. Becoming one with mother nature is Soul ascending. Its like listening to the most angelic melody and levitating to heaven. No seriously, go outside right now, lay on the grass and listen to the wind. Too bad if you live in a concrete jungle though. Listen, we all deserve to live in a house with a nice, little backyard, for moments like this.
Oh, capitalism you little bitc….
Do you ever wonder what fruits would be the best to live in? Oh, you’re sane, you say? Well, I have. Shocker, right? And I’ll have you know that after extensive research(over thinking) sessions, I have come to the conclusion that coconuts are the best. Hear me out; price, longevity, security. The big 3. Coconuts are cheap and so you wouldn’t have to offer up your first born and a kidney, as a sacrifice to the mortgage gods. And once you buy it, it will be viable years from then. You know what can survive a tsunami? A coconut. Flesh eating zombies? A coconut. And lastly, I’d like to see a thief to try to break into my coconut home!
Umm… Yeah!
So I definitely won’t be winning any architecture awards in this lifetime… Neither will I ever save enough to afford my dream house, in this economy. Dear lord! If we can’t buy, then can we at least get enough just to rent? Between the worldwide economic recessions, angry landlords, unemployment, depression, wars, food shortage, cheating boyfriends and terrible podcasts, we are all getting screwed. Urgh!!
I already know the kind of house I want to live in. In my head, I’ve already moved in and paid off everything. No angry landlords for this lady. No sir! Listen, I dream of a tub big enough for two elephants to tango in. Hot water and bubbles. Expensive body washes and lotion that smell like an angels breath, a flick of a finger away. An assortment of white, fluffy towels and robes in my direct line of vision. A glass of a wine I can barely pronounce or a steamy book in hand. I’m thinking, Tessa bailey, sierra Simone. A view so breathtaking it looks printed straight out of Pinterest. Lastly, the soothing voice of Hozier, lulling me into calmness and serenity in a way no one else can, by reminding me that I deserve nothing less than utmost devotion.
What a man!
I dream of lush green gardens. I see myself walking around barefoot, grounding myself in nature. Soaking the effervescence of the sun on my skin. I want to find out if any of my ancestors farming skills passed on to me. I dream of bike rides in slow winding roads around my home. I dream of silence. I dream of laughter. I dream of faceless people that I can’t possibly wait to meet. I dream of love. I dream of home.
But alas! The house of my dreams will probably remain in my dreams, until I’m 100 years old and have finally saved enough.
Since affordable housing is out of the question, how much is it to travel the world. Is it any cheaper? Help, I’m trying to put all my ducks in a row before I hit 100. You know, priorities and all that. For starters, how much does a ticket to, mhm, let say, santorini cost, and do they accept tears of desperation as a form of currency! Okay fine, I’ll throw in an extra ten shillings, final offer! No? I tried. Planes are scary anyways. And I’ve heard the mosquitoes there are no joke. I have sensitive skin, okay! And have you seen how long those lines are to get a passport?
Its whatever! I have 100 years to plan anyway!
What is home anyway?. Is it a place. A person. A feeling. What if home is within us. What if we are all we ever have to experience. The only home we will ever truly need is within us.
In the moment, I’m rotting in my own aimlessness. I am basking in my own self imposed solitude. Truly, that is how I cope with the unregulated, unmitigated, unsanctioned and unauthorized screwing the universe is bestowing upon thy! Tis a solemn time, I tell thee. Tis a solemn time, brethren. The thing with silence, is that it creates too large a space to think. Who am I. what am I doing. Where am I headed. Am I doing enough. Am I enough. Its hard not to get lost in that loop. Isn’t it ironical that we can lose ourselves while trying to find ourselves?
My silence was not borne out of arrogance, but of fear and necessity. And even though I am content with silence, I must confess, solitude is overwhelming.
….
A while back, I watched a documentary on Aljazeera. (off topic but I love their documentaries. They have such am intriguing and thought provoking way of telling stories). This particular one, was about this newly wed couple living in gaza. That was way back before the genocide started.
Like all newly wed’s are, they were so excited about starting life together, and so hopeful for the future. The documentary explored their lives in Gaza, while highlighting the socio-economic and political challenges that people in Gaza face. Poverty, unemployment, life under segregation.. For me, I think that was the very first time I Really saw Gaza.
At one point, the couple were looking for a house to move into. As we know, the housing situation in Gaza is absolutely terrible. Its crowded, land is unavailable, and even if it were, where is the money? And guess who controls everything?…Anyway, they eventually got a space on top of another bulding and they were making plans to build. I remember them discussing where the rooms would be. How the house would look like.
That was their first step to forever. A home.
Every time I read about the horror that is unfolding in Gaza, I think about that couple. I wonder if they are okay… did they finish building their house…did they start a family.. Did they have to abandon their home because of the war….Are they safe right now. Those are simple questions for us, but when you really contextualize it? How are we letting this happen? The fact they might be a single chapter in a black book of unfinished dreams is just so daunting. And it makes me so darn angry because they deserve a happy ever after, dammit! Everyone does.
Well, except everyone not calling for a ceasefire.
The world is in such a precarious state right now, my problems seem so vain sometimes. When I think about Congo, Sudan, Gaza and all these other places where people are going though hell everyday, I’m baffled at how inconsequential we’ve made human life. These places are not just spots on a map. Or a headline piece. When I think of Gaza now, its nostalgia. Its unfinished dreams. Its marriages cut short. Its children that will never grow. Its the blatant disregard of humanity. Its the cleansing. Its the extermination. When I think of Gaza, I think of all the happy ever after, that will never be.
I don’t have much to offer In this time, except for my words. And I hope that if this ever finds you, child of Gaza, you’ll know that even from the other side of the world, we stand with you. One day, when God wills it, the sun will rise again, and from the river to the sea, the streets will be a cacophony of joyous sounds once again. Playgrounds will be full of laughter. The days and nights will be long and peaceful and boring. Children will run outside without fear and go to sleep unafraid of the dark. One day, child of Gaza ,home will feel like peace. Home will be peace.
To finding home.
DIARY OF A VILLAGE GIRL 