To someone I'll never know (Gaza on my mind reprise).

I never knew you,
but you were so close to him, his best friend.
Please protect him now.
I know you're still there for him.
And since you got us so close one year ago,
if we'll ever have a son,
we'll name him with your name.
Please, protect him, protect us and our love,
let it be forever.

You're a hero for us.

Gaza on my mind.

I just cannot forget what happened one year ago.
A genocide, a massacre. Innocent deaths, tears everywhere.
And my racist co-workers told me I was too Pro-Palestine.
But I wouldn't be able to look at myself in the mirror if I wasn't one of those who still demand the right to live for Palestinian people.
And not only because of my personl life.
Because Palestine has the right to be.
And Palestinians have the right to LIVE.

Yes, I stand for Palestine.
I claim its rights.
I claim its freedom.
They have the right to be free.
They have the right to live normally, without fear of being killed by racist, greedy people.

Lyrics Time

I’m not a faerie but I need

More than this life so I became

This creature representing more to you

Than just another girl

And if I had a chance to change my mind

I wouldn’t for the world

(Swallow - Emilie Autumn)

Christmas

I was born Catholic and got far from it since they always despised me and talked about Jesus like He was bad, and I walk towards Islam...that's what you get when you live between two worlds. And I have my atheist or agnostic moments as well.

But hey, it was Christmas.

And you, my lovely Muslim boyfriend and personal hero, gave me the best Christmas of my grown-up life.
You even bought me a Christmas tree!
And showered me with lovely words that made all the love songs seem real.

I'm so happy.

So happy I am scared. LOL. Scared of myself, of my strangeness, of my mad behaviour.

Wayward Italian Girl

(Yeah, an other Emilie Autumn inspired word...wayward!)

Since elementary school I haven't been the shiny happy little girl everybody wanted us to be. I was already outspoken and committed (my bless and curse...), I was 7 and I red books for girls who were more than 11, I didn't want to play funny games and my Barbies won Peace and Medicine Nobel Prizes instead of beauty pagents. I wanted to stop war.
Why the hell did I start suffering so young for humanitarian issues? I still don't know.
I had friends, I wasn't antisocial...but I enjoyed being the scary dark kid who liked to be alone sometimes.
And same with adolescence, a bookworm who wasn't even interested in guys, I was just pissed off and angry. And depressed. I was in this group of people who seemed so far from me; the girls' only problem was to be guys' pleaser and stereotyped themselves by struggling to get prettier each day without ever speaking their minds. I really took care of myself, I took care of my image but I cared more of my intelligence.
And this is the issue. Intelligent girls have a hard time here.

Now I am young woman, with a degree and getting a second one, who works for humanitarian causes and is proud of it. People think I'll go crazy because I care for social causes and I am depressed at the world. "Why don't you just tried to read some girly magazines and starting caring less about others?", they ask me. I can't.
"Why are you so depressed?", I am not anymore depressed at myself an about my life. I am depressed at the world. Even though some racist bastard tried to stop my life because I love a Palestinian man, I am fucking stronger and ready to speak up.
And yes I'll keep on reading philosophy instead of fashion magazines. And no, I don't want to be known for my body, but for my brain. I don't care if italian girls are known for their conventional style, I am not your typical italian girl. I don't like discoteques, I don't wanna dance in front of many men, the only time I dance is with my love, and not our stereotypical music.
And I am not afraid that my feminist beliefs will make me a bitter spinster, because my love loves the feminist I am. And yes, my love is muslim and I love Islam. And I am not submissive or what, he'll never ask me to be so.
Feminism in here is considered a bad word, girls just wanna have fun.
I suffer still from my scars and I am not afraid to show it. I don't care if I am not smiley all the time. If we need to be happy and carefree then I am not italian.
Yes the bad things done to me still burn. But I'll sick revenge. I am not a catholic saint. I can't forgive those who hurted me and the one I love.
And yes, I don't care if here smart is ugly. I still dream about winning a Nobel Prize like my Barbie did. A Peace one.
I won't ever be the object people in our country expect us women to be. I am not a socialite. I only surround myself with my beloved ones who love the odd, scary, dark young woman I am.

Recovering

I somehow forgot that I have O.c.d.
No more intrusive bad thoughts since a while.
It's so amazing.
I remember when they started back in 2002, how scared I was. I put myself in a cage of obsession and compulsions that was so suffocating I couldn't live normally. I knew it was my subconscious that was enhancing my biggest fears and obsessing me with them but, at the same time, I couldn't stop being compulsive. I HAD to replace those dark images with happy positive ones. The more I tried to push them away the more they would come.
I never saw a doctor.
I can't trust someone I don't know telling them my darkest fears and secret.
But these days I see the light.
It's like waking up from a coma and restarting. And I don't know why the injustice me and my love have been victims of this summer made me somewhat stronger. I'm seeking revenge like the people I work for seek asylum.
Like Beatrix in Kill Bill, not literally though, I'll destroy those who made me the scared little girl I've been, the dark, gloomy young girl I was. I am an angry young woman now.
And without compulsions, I can do better.

Lyrics Time

Some words that inspire me:

What If By Emilie Autumn
Here you sit in your high-backed chairWonder how the view is from thereI wouldn’t know ’cause I like to sitUpon the floor, yeah upon the floorIf you like we could play a gameLet’s pretend that we are the sameBut you will have to look much closerThan you do, closer than you doAnd I’m far too tired to stay here anymoreAnd I don’t care what you think anyway‘Cause I think you were wrong about meYeah what if you were, what if you wereAnd what if I’m a snowstorm burningWhat if I’m a world unturningWhat if I’m an ocean, far too shallow, much too deepWhat if I’m the kindest demonSomething you may not believe inWhat if I’m a siren singing gentlemen to sleep
I know you’ve got it figured outTell me what I am all aboutAnd I just might learn a thing or twoHundred about you, maybe about youI’m the end of your telescopeI don’t change just to suit your vision‘Cause I am bound by a fraying ropeAround my hands, tied around my handsAnd you close your eyes when I say I’m breaking freeAnd put your hands over both your earsBecause you cannot stand to believe I’m notThe perfect girl you thoughtWell what have I got to loseAnd what if I’m a weeping willowLaughing tears upon my pillowWhat if I’m a socialite who wants to be aloneWhat if I’m a toothless leopardWhat if I’m a sheepless shepherdWhat if I’m an angel without wings to take me home
You don’t know meNever will, never willI’m outside your picture frameAnd the glass is breaking nowYou can’t see meNever will, never willIf you’re never gonna seeWhat if I’m a crowded desertToo much pain with little pleasureWhat if I’m the nicest place you never want to goWhat if I don’t know who I amWill that keep us both from tryingTo find out and when you haveBe sure to let me knowWhat if I’m a snowstorm burningWhat if I’m a world unturningWhat if I’m an ocean, far too shallow, much too deepWhat if I’m the kindest demonSomething you may not believe inWhat if I’m a siren singing gentlemen to sleepSleep…Sleep…

Love

You kissed my wrist where the scars from my self-harming are and made me feel good in my skin.
You are extraordinary, habibi, you don't judge me and you keep on loving me for what I am, you don't care if I am a broken girl or if I have been a wretched whore. YOU LOVE ME.
And it amazes me in a thousand different ways.
You're my hero, you've been through it all since you were 4 years old and you're still on your legs, and with all your sufferings you still worry for me, and put me first. Shukran ya aomde. I love you with all my heart.
You're the sunlight of my everyday.
Thanks for loving the feminist I am, and for praying me to keep on being stronger. Thanks. A million thanks.
Thanks for helping me dealing with depression and O.c.d.
Thanks for making me feel beautiful.
Thanks for being with me despite all my madness.
Thanks for loving my mama.
Thanks because I am your first and your last.
Thanks because you breath.

The broken girl, the wretched whore and the sunlight thing are inspired by Emilie Autumn, off course.

Open letter to the person who tried to put my life to and end.

Dear you, whoever you are.I can't send this letter because I don't know who you are. If I knew I'd already told this in your ugly face. I wonder if you know me, and you did what you did because you hated me for some reasons, or if you don't know me and hate me because you're just racist.What you did to me (and to a very important person for me, and, by consequence, to our families) is unbelievably cruel. Pure cruelty.You tried, with your cruelty, to ruin two lives who already had many problems and were trying to recover. The war is still open but, since I don't know you I still don't know how strong you are.If there's a God, He won't forgive your cruelty.I'll struggle till the very end to win against what you did to me, against what you did to us.I hope you'll live hell in your life and suffer and rot in it if there's an after-life.I have nightmares, I am anxious, I lost faith in humanity because of you. I am scared, but my revenge will come soon. I'll win, we''ll win with our good hearths, we don't need to be cruel as you to win. But I wish you'll meet only people who are five times more cruel than you.May you pay for what you did. I won't let you take us down easily. I may be paying with my life right now, but we're not over.

First Post

I have this deep urge to write down what's going on in my head and my heart.

This moment I live in is so stressing,

so breath-taking,

so scary.

I am terrified by life now,

even though I have also many beautiful things,

I am scared.

I am not good at writing

but be sure I'll write my heart out.