Category: prose

As much as the title sounds ironic and cynical, it can be true; what if i died at the age of 40 ha? well that’s the written destiny that i have no inkling of (i used to believe that only God knows that but then i questioned God’s knolwedge and intentions, that was followed by skepticism… Continue reading mid-life crisis at the age of 20

Is my first time running in a race, that being said I ran the 10k route today. There were three options 10k, half a marathon, a whole marathon. It was a surreal experience, not just because it’s my first time running in a race but also because it’s in Bethlehem. A city suffocated by walls… Continue reading Observations in the 4th Palestine Marathon.

from temporality sprouts beauty the ephemeral scent gives flowers their beauty if they were infinite plastice ones, all they collect will be dust. People are temporary too which makes the mission of holding onto the ones we love more important.    

I came to age with a saying; Love is crazy. Qais was not called Majnon for nothing after all there’s no reason in love. Nothing is logical. You will stay up all night speaking to your loved one, or risk your grades and family status. Everything seems in urgency.    

It was when I went to the United States that I got to meet people from neighboring Arab countries ( which just proves the point that I’m about to rant about), and it was them that said how much they love Palestine, how much they resisted the Israeli Occupation and how much they told people… Continue reading Rant of the day

My mind is a blank. The loss for words is not uncommon, but this time it’s different; caused by a red moon. my words seem at lost till 2033, when i shall find myself and look back in retrospect over my inability to function with a smile but not a word.

I remember when I was very young – as young as I would ask for stickers to collect, and had not yet memorized the Fat-ha verse, I would be sitting in the back seat, and after a tedious fight I would get the seat next to the window. The seat next to the window is… Continue reading Walls

One year ago, I wrote a short narration/poem of how I feel about Nakba, about the definition of Nakba [http://beyondcompromise.com/2014/05/14/to-define-nakba/]. The Nakba is my need to re-write this poem. Nakba is my failure to do so. 15th of May, 2015