I’m not going to lie, I haven’t exactly felt like writing lately. I thought about posting a really strong complaint letter I sent to Easy Jet but then realized not much good will come from being a first world princess and crying every time I cross an asshole. I bare witness to my own dwindling dedication, my motivation seeping out of me like a pretentious London nightclub vodka; what is the point of having hopes and dreams in a world where I feel hopeless?!
Dramatic as always, it seems as though the build up to Christmas has been barricaded with bad news. I’ve had to grit my teeth through consumer-clad advertisements implying our privileged kids won’t have a good Christmas ‘less they’re showered with things they don’t need.
One of my best friends unexpectedly lost her dad a few weeks ago; it’s been a little too real and a little too close to home for all those affected. To make matters worse, the backlash of Cameron’s (utterly disgusting) air-strike decision has had some of our cities residents waving flags of ignorance like they’ve actually got something to be proud of.
Just last week, I was having a conversation with a person close to me and my heart nearly imploded when I heard them utter the words “Not every Muslim is a terrorist but every terrorist is a Muslim, know what I mean?” Well no – I didn’t know what they meant and I still don’t know. What I do know, is that our media is doing a great job of miseducating viewers and creating more distrust and hate among the melting pot of our beautiful city.
I found this so, so disheartening – a totally inaccurate statement coming from a person whose heart is essentially in the right place; sprouting dangerous information due to being misinformed; believing the garbage we’re being fed. I had a meltdown comprehending war: living each day as a means to survive, hopes and dreams abolished. I concluded that a world without dreams is simply meaningless and thus, I put my dreams on hold. I wallowed in the darkness of my thoughts and wondered why as human beings, we constantly establish ways to fuck things up?!
Just after the Paris attacks I visited a place called Saas Fee and was gobsmacked when I asked a guy to move out the way so I could get to the bathroom. “No problem, Muslim”. He replied. “Sorry, what?” I asked, convinced I wasn’t hearing right. “No problem, Muslim” he repeated. Stunned, I couldn’t find the right words to cut him down to size. I found my heart overruling my wit and just stared at him like a lost puppy.
Eventually I said “That’s a disgusting way to address a person” and he replied “It’s just a sentence”. I should have known better than to be so upset, only an idiot would assume a brown skinned person has to be a Muslim. Had he known anything about anything, he would have known that a practicing Muslim girl would not be in a bar, cleavage out, surrounded by men and drinking alcohol. Nevertheless, it hurt to see his prejudice. I had to acknowledge whether my non-existent faith stemmed from the little faith I have for humanity.
A blog just won’t cut the depths of my feelings on the matter. So I’m leaving you here with a poem I wrote:-