My first aid kit 

FAQ: Why do you write?

Because writing is my first aid kit.
Because writing can be my injury at the same time, and that there are wounds that no human hands can reach. Because I can’t answer the Doctor if he asks me how it hurts, at least, not in a needed medical way. Only metaphors, only excuses. Because words cut deeper than the scalpel. Because there are ups and there are downs; because no one told me how little remains of us 

after the fall. Because love. Because lies. I write because this is a place of pure honesty; because the paper holds the truth that my lips could not. Because here I can put a title. Because we never had a title. Because there is a period that indicates an end; 

because we didn’t had that kind of stopping signal. Because we squeeze into our jeans and we squeeze ourselves into people who have no intention of keeping us and we still wonder why there is such thing as pain. Because I wish my grandfather lived longer, because there are people who refuse to live. Because there is no cure for missing. Because there are people you can miss even if they are breathing right next to you. 

Because there are questions not asked; because there are unaccepted answers. Because there are people I can no longer call. Because there are words I will never hear. Because we all have boxes inside our hearts— filled with memories, filled with regrets. Because you hurt me. Because I hurt you. Because I never stopped writing about you. Because you stopped reading my words. Because I wanted leaving to look beautiful, to make it less agonizing. Because the truth is it wasn’t beautiful, it was just simply letting you go , and I just stand silent with heavy eyes and ticking heart bomb trying not to shatter into million little pieces that could still love you in the next million years. Because it’s difficult to forget. Because memories are ordinary. Because memories are extraordinary. Because. Because. Because with you, I was me.  Because this. Because words. Because there is you 

I will never see



Suffocated    (pray for humanity )

This photo is from east Aleppo after Syrian & Russian airstrikes in September 2016 because many of the bombing videos from Wadi Barada are not verified. Is this image the principled antiwar activist’s vision of a freedom struggle?

Mosul, Iraq, January 16th, 2017: 

How do you tell the difference between emancipation US-style & Armageddon?
(Photo by Muhammad Hamed/Reuters)

Between January 1989 & November 30 2016, there have been 94,589 deaths, 7,074 of them while in custody of Indian security forces. At least 22,828 women have been widowed & 107,594 children orphaned.

That is a terrible price to pay for freedom & a measure of its value to those denied it. We would know nothing about this were it not for Kashmiri activists on social media who post reports & photos of funeral cortege/protests numbering in the thousands for every person killed.

Long live Kashmiri Intifada. End the occupation. Self-determination for Kashmir.

Fullest solidarity & deepest respect for the Kashmiri freedom struggle.
(Statistics from Kashmir Media Service; photo from Kashmir Freedom) 


Loud cries of pain, bodies scattered around, the street where people gathered to spread love and celebrate happiness . 

Heart hurt to see, dozens of innocent people running away in horor from the nightmare none cloud foresee.

Terror crawling into thier minds as their teary eyes bag for mercy in a game where innocents blood is spilled .

“In the name of beliefs, I’ll shoot you thries, to further my misguided causes you all have to miserably die.”

Hate knows no limits, Terrorism has no relagion, Terrorism is sick, twisted mission to find potential targets once again.

An utter disgust to humanity , whatever happened to mankind and his decency ?  who is to blame , and who is not ?

Living with this uncertainty and fear is like living in a wrecked planet with no atmosphere, it’s suffocating . 

Will we ever find a way to resist this situation ? will we keep fighting to keep peace ?  or will we lose and let the world be plagued ?  

Will we join hands no matter the relagion, color and political views to build a world filled with love or will we see enemy everywhere ? 

P.s.  (let’s all do our part to spread love and happiness. Life is so unpredictable. please take a little time out of your to do good and to let someone knows that they are loved. my heart hurts terribly seeing the atrocities happening in the world .) 


Here comes the rain,

Here comes the pain,

Here comes the memories,

So flows these sad stories . 

Wise man used to say 

That the rain washes away 

All pains of a heart astray .

But some pains are just too deep,

For rain to put to sleep.

Some memories we’re meant to keep,

To be felt and left to steep .

Until they become mere shadows of yesterday,

Making us stronger to face today .


I don’t think soulmates really are those people we end up marrying. I believe soulmates are the people who choose to stay through every phase of your life. It’s before the wedding. It’s during every heartbreak. It’s during every big moment, they are there. 

It’s through every funeral where words can’t even be exchanged. It’s in every loss and disappointment. They whisper in your ear who you are, what you want and whatever this is it won’t beat you. They are every call when we feel alone and 2AM and darkness feel like it’s welcoming. 

When you hate yourself they don’t. 

When you don’t want to forgive yourself for mistakes, they do. 

When you’re settling they pull you aside and remind you of your worth and what you deserve. 

They set this template for what it is you deserve in everyone in your life. 

They’re there for every accomplishment and are your biggest cheerleader. They’re your number one fan before anyone else believed in you.

You know any success you have in your life is in large part because of them.  

Through staying with you in every phase of life, they prove somethings don’t change even when you’ve changed as a person and have grown. Somehow they grow with you. 

It’s almost like if you dissected who you were a large part of that is them.

Of the many things you are confident in, most is them. You just know they will always be there no matter where each of you end up. 

There really isn’t a greater compliment than knowing one person for certain will be there on your wedding day. Likely with a killer speech humiliating you. 

They are the most positive force in your life and you wish everything were so easy. 

They are every first like on social media. 

They are plans you don’t know just yet but you know they are a part of.

They are the door that is always open, even when you don’t call. 

They pick you up every time you fall reminding you angels aren’t just figments of your imagination but rather these people who walk with you carrying you through life.

Broken a wish . . .

I wish . . . “

I used to dream of being a princess , falling in love with a boy on a magic carpet , and living in a whole new world with him .

I never thought I’d give up that dream just to be a genie , trapped inside an old rusty lamp, waiting to feel your hands on me , waiting to know all the desires you keep inside.

I’ll grant all your wishes , not just three.

Just make my only wish come true ,     and that is for you to love me .”

The Bridge of life 

The bridge is crossed, The bond are broken , lines are drawn , do not be mistaken. 

As what you left , on the other side of the bridge 

Will come to haunt you 

In your darkest  nights and cold winter mornings.

Once this match is lit and the bridge is burnt 

The ashes you will breathe , 

Of memories happy and sad, of people love and dead ,

Of Love lost and unspoken of .

Once this bridge turn to Ash , 

You ought to know , there’s absolutely 

No way back . 

Life journey

They change unexpectedly in second 

The light deciding how early or late 

You will reach your destinations.

They thought us to stop at red,

What if I didn’t ? Will I die ?

I sit here counthing the seconds 

Like a countdown to zero , for The light to change to green and I resume my journey.

Tick-tock ,  tick-tock,  tick-rock 

And it clicks zero, and the light turn green .

The guy next to me throttles to meet his end.

Red and green it’s just color,

Nothing to keeps you safe ,expect time.

Which runs out,eventually. 


They say masks are just for masquerade ball; 

Feathered, coloured ,  And encrusted with jewels.

But the most common mask in reality is skin;

Foundation soaked deep into our pores and lips stained from cheap gin. 

Scrubbing and scrubbing at our reflection; 

But we cannot erase our complexion.  

Our flaws lie beneath the mask , covered up and buried in black.

Changing everything about ourselves until it is only personality we lack.

A symmetrical face, skinny, and tall ,

Long blonde hair, latest clothes , why does this matter at all ?

Take off the real mask, don’t let it be your downfall ! .

{Photography by unkown }


Mirror , mirror on the wall , 

Depicting me as round and tall , 

But when I take a step and spin , 

I become quite short and thin .

Squiggle my profile, flatten my pride, No matter my movement it won’t subside . 

A plié  here , a dip, and a shuffle ,

Won’t save me from this circus kerfuffle.

Down I fall on the checkered floor ,       And to you,  I still implore ; 

Through lover eyes, so you perceive me?  seeing through this carnival debris ? 

For this skin that I call home , 

And these feet on which I roam , 

And these eyes so muddled by tear , 

Aren’t what should be held dear .

For a Rose, by any name , 

Would remind quiet near the same .

But, I know , I am no flower .

I grow weaker by the hours , 

Succumbing to the accordions song , 

As if it were part of me all along . 

{Artwork by Tomer Hanuka}