You would need to be living under a rock to have not heard about the devastation that is taking over a little piece of land in the neighbouring country. A country with a controversial name, and a little strip called Gaza.
You need not have followed the news every day – a random 30 second glimpse at any news from there is haunting enough to keep you awake at night.
I have stopped myself from writing here for the past few weeks because I was almost scared of what might come out. Scared that allowing myself the freedom my blog has provided me will bring too many ugly overwhelming feelings to the surface. Because if they did, they would blind me to seeing an end to this tragedy – a possibility that could literally flatten me and my belief that human lives count for something.
But maybe, as coherent sentences fail me, maybe I can just blurt out what has been going through my head in syllables:
Funny that I still have hope. Fortunate and blessed that I still have hope, that the inner workings of my subconscious mind still reach that at the end of every silent rant.
You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one…