14/12/2005
art mécanik
hurle
Eden Motel
xia
Film film

 

 

L'esplanade des Mosquées
16ème pierre de lancée


Turning blue
   

Smile

Abou Saïd: My daughter’s picture is on the wall.

Take my sons in the middle of the night, take my land, tear down my house, my family, my TV, eat the mountaintops, drink the Jordan river, worship walls while I worship stones, take my life, we all cry.
Our daughters die.

Never more they said. Never more. There is a scar in your pureness: you kill us to live, you eat us alive. Never more. Tank alley, meet me today. Bulldozers surround the camp.

My daughter’s picture is on the wall, a nail in my heart.
What can I do but hate, she is dead.
What can I do but kill? I die.

Mind explosion, how to stay calm? I see her on the walls, in the streets, all over the city... Where to go? In the arms of god? In my arms a gun? Ablutions, ammunitions... My city is a cell, my well is dry, my land is your base, my hope is your reason to oppress, my hope to resist is your reason to strangle... My hope has become your country. My future is your money, your laws, your rules... My destiny is to obey until I go crazy, until you swallow me.

I have no hope.
I want you to follow me.
There is no hope.

Kill me in the middle of the night. Kill my soul, eat me alive, burry me alive under a chopped tree, surround me, besiege me. Take everything. Eat me with bullet teeth, drink me warm, my blood is boiling, blow my head once and for all.
Open my daughter’s legs, don’t wake the neighbors, blow my house, blow my TV, explode my neighbor’s house and their TV. Tomorrow, we all die.

I die. You too. We are all alone on each side of the wall. We are the empty eyes of the same skull, both alone on each side of the wall, of the backbone of occupation. But only on my side, is my daughter’s picture, my daughter’s picture over the cement, turning blue in the burning sun.

Never more they said. Never more. They surround Gaza now...

I dream at night. Horrible dreams. You. You are in all my thoughts. I think of you at every moment of my day. When I can’t go to work. When I can’t cultivate my land. When I see her picture on the wall.

My daughter’s picture. To remind me of my pain. To remind me of hate.

Don’t wonder if I hate.
I hate.

 


motelmurders

 


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