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ONE.
i just watched an interesting documentary on Iran in class.
the people love-able. All peoples are loveable. I don't really understand hate. (I don't understand spite, either... It is a waste of time, because pain is fleeting- and selfish.)
In ways, their country is much like ours.
There is a direction, too, and there is suspense. Adolescents hold so much power. Iran's younger generation is learning, and they are frustrated. Bloodspill in the future is inevitable.
Sometimes I want to move out of America because I am embarrassed of what I'm a part of. I thought, if America decides to nuke Iran, no doubt I will move to Canada or Brazil or Tibet or India, etc.
But I remembered this man, who was sad too, once. He said: patriotism is not pride and support behind all your government's choices, but to stay in this place you once loved, and take responsibility in improving it for the better.
And I am in limbo, for now,
but there are things to do, and I will do them.
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i love the way my Politics of Globalization class pins me up against the wall, by my throat, and shoves crackers down my esophagus. If it were a man I would marry it and have a beautiful sadomasochistic relationship for the rest of my life and be happy.
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TWO.
Recently, i have been fascinated by Buddhism. Why was I so repulsed before, by a philosophy so parallel with my own?
The past few days have been a tremendous learning experience (A large chunk may be accredited to Sunday, when I locked myself up in the library-Tower and researched for an essay, all day long).
I have been so productive. I have also been happier. It is relative.
THREE.
I know most of the answers to my own questions, but I like to ask them
anyway.
It feels cleaner.
FOUR.
From the documentary:
(between two boys, two girls, and the interviewer)
"Everyone wants to get out of here. Everyone wants to leave."
"How?...Let's not talk politics... They will come after us. They're everywhere."
"They will chop off our heads! Ha, ha, ha ha"
"Ha ha, they're watching right now, the soldiers, up in the hills over there."
"Boys and girls are not allowed to come here together, so, [the girls] walk several meters ahead, and we follow behind them."
"The restrictions are still very strict. It is ridiculous."
"We like to come to the mountains, it is nice. If my veil slips a little, it's alright- there is no urgent rush to cover up."
(between a man with a microphone and his infant son)
"Sing for me, my baby. Sing! Come on now, you can't sing lying down, you'll have to sit up. Here. La-lala, la-lala... How are you supposed to be a priest if you can't sing? Ah! Aha! See, he always laughs when we sing together. I was going to give him a religious name, but uh, people said that wasn't good. So. His name is Mahmou."
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honeymuzzle's journal