Have you ever asked yourself why does a Palestinian life cost so much to save when mine costs damn near nothing to take away?
Why are these families paying these unfathomable prices for a bag of flour when mine is 2 dollars from the store down the street, sometimes even free through my neighbors helping hand.
Have you ever asked yourself why our freedom is at the control of another?
all those movies and games of living in a simulation are starting to make sense now
We are all hiding. Tucked away from reality, stuck in the safety of our bubble, fading away into the glittery stimulation of our false lives and selves.
I’m confused, I’m lost– I thought life would be more than this? Worse yet, i feel powerless
Why would anyone care or believe in what I have to say. Who’s to say I’m not psychotic, demented, or deranged.
Why do I feel like I’m taking away someone else’s air? Someone else more deserving, more hardworking. One who is deprived of all the riches I am ungratefully given because these riches–warm shelter, food, water, are seen as bare necessities.
Who am I and why do I deserve to live more than Ibrahim Aklouk
I’ve done no more right than him and probably done far more wrong, yet I am lucky to breathe this air and stand on this side of the earth that is not trembling to the ground, yet.
Tomorrow is another day. 
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