What if instead of birds in trees there were tiny robots with eyes that knew my name. If instead of clouds there were vaportrails. If instead of silence there was buzzing. The images I am packed with of what is real and what is unreal, the things that constitute the sounds and shapes and tastes that I use in metaphors objects of my unconscious that closed eyed i believe surround me; the world being made of clouds and air and earth a science of god. the world being made of violence and the sounds of explosions far away and uncertainty, a constant chill a science of god. to live in comfort to live
The drones are at it, that grating sound of multiple UAVs (“drones”) circling in the sky, the disharmony of their buzzes clashing into one’s psyche, ramping up levels of frustration and terror. And since the 2008-2009 Israeli massacre of the Gaza Strip (killing over 1500 when all had succumbed to their Israeli army-inflicted wounds) I had still heard the zananas‘ whine, but it had been a while since their presence was so continuous, abrasive and terrifying.
When on Nov 14 the Zionist army assassinated Hamas’ Ahmad al-Jabari and body guard, I wasn’t in Gaza, nor earlier on Nov 5th when an Israeli soldier shot and killed a mentally disabled man in his early twenties on land near the border, nor the days in between when Israeli soldiers killed 13 year old soccer-playing Ahmed Abu Daqqa, then days later shelled a mourning tent killing 4 and injuring at…
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