Virtual MONSTER!
BY ;Ashraf
A virtual MONSTER is devouring our lives.
Spring turns to autumn,
Summer to winter…
Monday to Friday…
Fast passing by …
While we are glued to a screen…
addicted to the virtual!
The virtual MONSTER is devouring our days.
Erasing real love….real nature…
real nurture…DEVOID from our life…
Artists’ lifelong works…
thrown away by an AI stroke..
Authors’ lifelong works…meaningless
as an AI magician spews FAST and easy words…
Lying politicians, blabbering AI's written words…to please…
to USE & ABUSE people's trust…in getting their VOTES.
NO commitment attached to each
spewed simply words.
WARS waged by LIES…
Soldiers shoot to kill, using their drones…
like kids playing their games…
Real people BLEEDING….REAL people DYING…
Palestine CRYING….. screaming for help…
We live in our virtual MONSTER, devouring our lives…
Zuckerberg types…plowing money…selling our habits….
selling all secrets, keeping us walking as eternal ZOMBIES…
It is their GOLD RUSH…
While we become SLAVES attached to our screens…
NOTHING seems REAL…
Even our BELOVED…
pulling us further…. GLUED to our screens…
No time for families…
No time to smell REAL roses…. touching the grass…
No time to create REAL communities..
Living like zombies, GLUED to our screens…
An END to REAL LIFE, of humanity on earth?
Sex…food…screens…is this really meaning of life?
Adults, frozen in childhood…programing …writing….prescriptions our VIRTUAL lives…
Everything virtual…has become our LIVES..;
As HUMANITY resembles zombies living life?
Ignoring FACTS …..ignoring REALITY….
Allowing GENOCIDE…
accepting WARS…all based on LIES…
Subliminal messaging…
Screen addictions…
Turning us to slaves…
zombies for life?
Devoid of humanity….devoid of a virtuous life?…
Devoid…stripped from of what makes us human?…
Everything is CHEWED and put in to our mouth…
Forming…shaping our brains…to accept a MONSTROUS virtual life?
Not reacting, when REAL humans are killed…
Real blood is spilled…
Real WARS…and GENOCIDE are waged?
STOP!
STOP!
Snap out of the VIRTUAL…
Snap out of the FAKE…
Stand up for the REAL…
END MONSTROUS tech…
Ending our REAL LIVES…
STOP being slaves…
STOP BEING walking ZOMBIES…
STOP Zionist controlled tech…
Live as REAL…live as HUMANS…
LIVE as virtues
Live a REAL LIFE!
Live a life of humanity full of compassion…
Live and demand JUSTICE for all….
Live a life full of compassion…caring for one another….LOVING humanity…
Seeking JUSTICE for all!
Dissolved……
By Ashraf
I walk in the street …..looking up to the beautiful blue sky…..
The sunlight HIDING the stars ..nestled far…..far away…..
As there is none……all are gone …..dissolved…..
SO I take a deep breath….
closing my physical eyes……..
opening my inner soul ……..to see
By passing the particles …….around ….the universe unknown……
Flying up…..swimming up…….reaching a cumulus cloud..
Laying over………it’s feathery and light….
Allowing the light of the hidden stars…….to take over my physical existence,
Entering each molecule from afar..…….
Allowing the light………to enter within……inside….wash away all and each cells….
Wash away the negativity..…..all humanly emotional negative attributes
……..the ego….jealously……the hate……the revengeful SWORD raised out of all fears…..the fight of existence…..a caveman’s perceive ….subconscious consistants..
Allowing the particles of stars………to dance gracefully inside…..
wash away……all the negativity eating & devouring my human body, from existence..
Like a cancer….growing inside..
washed it away………DISSOLVE……..DISSOLVE…..DISSOLVE….
piece by piece…..molecule by molecule
Like a river …….
Washing it away……reborn….refreshed …..rebound….baptized….
To be born fresh once again……..
Like a baby…..filed with love…..laughter…..and the joy…..
and of course the occasional cry…..
But, to encapsulate the light inside….within…..
To shine as a true human being….
The one…….GOD intended…..GOD CREATED…..
His image on earth….
capable of LOVE……loving one another……loving all brethren
The ONE…..suns particles….embedded…
So no matter what the weather…..storm?……darkness?…..day or night?…….
the shine can pass through……….DISSOLVING the EVIL inside..
…..WITHIN EACH body……each human soul….
the old me is DISSOLVED…….A NEW one is born…..
Then I gently…..calmly coming down descend ….on earthy earth….
where the blue sky continues to shine..
….so to once again I as human be able to face it all ….
prepared no matter what uncertainty abounds ….all around…
To be prepared….ready…
once again…..going through the life …..round and round…..unphased…..unscathed!
My beautiful untamable CatBy Ashraf,My new cat, looked lonely….and sad…His blue eyes, cautious…His body very tense…Despite desire of not be lonely….he was avoiding…. looking weary …wondering of my intent?Staring in to my eyes…. deeply…without blinking….as to read my mind…Decipher….read to understand the complex human codes…in order to Evaluate my human soul….I stared back….with all my might…To soothe his frightened, untrusting soul…To say in silence….it be okay?Relax…TRUST ME….You never be hurt … never betrayed…In the few moments of silence….we talked…Exchanged words…in a language our souls only understood…He slowly moved on my lap…Caressing and placing his head over my chest….Simply saying okay….I trust you….But, please understand…I am a cat...INDEPENDENT….FREE…, never treat me as your property…or extension of you!…Love me…but, understand i am ONLY a cat…Independence…. freedom is my nature…With that in mind?....I will be your friend…You can caress me now…As long as you respect me and my freedom….my independence?I be your BEST FRIEND….In a gesture of understanding…I gently caressed his back….His body started to relax….Placing his head over my chest…. Purring…relaxing…enjoying…….and .that is how we became BEST bodies….BEST friends!I sigh…proud of gaining his trustWhispering in my head.....wish human relations, would be a simple as cats?Nasir-Al-Molk Mosque in Shiraz Iran (Built 1888)
This poem was dedicated to an 18 year-old young Palestinian girl that was shot by Israeli settlers in occupied Palestine in front of the Al-Aqsa mosque in 2018. She was left bleeding to death by the Israeli settlers, prevented from accessing medical care. I wondered, how might people in love with their beloved have felt?
The Loss of You!
By Ashraf
I miss you like a thirsty traveler…. lost in the Sahara desert….
Following a mirage….
A Lyla seeking Majnoon….
A tornado rising, leaving a destructive path…. full of debris…. eroding & destroying my entire being…
Rumi seeking forever, the disappeared Shams…
I miss you.
Not sure why?
Not sure how?
But something inside my heart…. is screaming your name.
I tell myself you are forever dead….
Like a Palestinian kid…. buried under debris of dust and rubble…
But, my heart doesn’t understand what it all means.
My heart bleeds for you…
My soul screams your name….
I am a Darvish….
Lost in my mind…. my heart overwhelming my head.
So I wander…. in the streets of the lost….
Wondering where they are about….
Despite knowing like Shams….
You are gone with the wind….
Never was…. nor ever will be mine.
But…. I am a wandering Darvish….
Lost forever in streets of wonder.
My heart is bleeding….
My mind is screaming your name….
No peace or reconciliation….
Between the two.
So I dance to the music of misery.... the tune of a warrior’s battle taking place in my head….
Between my mind and my heart.
I dance to the music of misery…. such a familiar tune…. nestled…. lodged forever
in my body and soul….
for eternity!
The following fictional story is based on the true story of a young girl shot to death, on the entrance to the Al-Aqsa mosque, and Israeli occupiers let her bleed to death. I tried to find the real person I based this fictional story on, but there were too many young girls killed by the Israelis. Therefore, I decided to choose Hanan Khadour, as her age matched my fictional story. May all the beautiful souls of thousands of the Palestinians killed at the prime of their lives rest in peace.
A Story in West Bank Palestine
By Ashraf
June 2018
Samia was walking like she was over the clouds... She was so overwhelmed with love... Her entire being had become consumed with Ali's thoughts.
This morning, when she went to meet him at the university, he asked her to marry him. This was the first time ever he brought up this issue.
How wonderful... Even thinking about living the rest of their lives together was so unbelievably joyful. She couldn't help but smile since their meeting a few hours ago.
He said to her his concern about what was going on regarding Al-Aqsa Mosque. The reason? He was worried about her going to the mosque for her daily prayers.
"Could you not go for the next few days, please?"
She looked at his beautiful expressive eyes. God... How much she loved him. She blushed at the thought of wanting to kiss him right there. Instead, she shyly and playfully avoided his intense, piercing eyes staring at her.
She gently touched his shoulder and squeezed.
"I will be okay, Ali. It is nothing to worry about. I am a girl. They are usually easier on us."
He touched her hand.
"Promise you won't go in if it seems too dangerous?"
She felt her heart about to jump out of her chest. Just the touch of his hand and looking into his eyes was enough to make her the happiest person on earth.
He mumbled, "I love you, Samia. I want us to get married. Maybe get out of here... Go to Jordan or somewhere... where we can live safely."
She looked at his eyes again. He seemed so serious, as though he had given it a long thought and wanted her to know how serious he was about their future.
She smiled.
"Okay, I promise. Now I’ve got to go to my class. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Can you call me after your lunchtime prayer when you return from the mosque?"
She laughed.
"Why do you suddenly seem so concerned? Don't worry. I’m not going to get killed, okay? Do I look threatening to you? So skinny, so fragile... How could they do anything to me?"
"Sorry," he mumbled again. "I’m not sure why I’m worrying about this today. I just had a very weird dream last night. But you’re right, forget about it. But call me anyway, will you?"
He forced a smile to make her happy. They said goodbye. It was hard to let her go. Their eyes were glued to each other again. Then, Samia gently turned and walked away. She could feel Ali's eyes on her back.
Since then, she had been walking on cloud nine. He asked me to marry him. Wow. Her heart was pounding in her chest with joy.
On her way to her school, she noticed a wedding boutique. Normally she never paid attention, but this morning she briefly paused, looking at the dress on the mannequin.
She whispered, "Not too flashy... not my style."
She wanted something simple but elegant. She smiled. How foolish. She was already thinking about the dress. What if her parents wouldn't agree? But she dismissed this thought right away. Her parents adored Ali.
He was an engineering student, hardworking with big dreams. He always avoided going around the border just in case he got caught in a fight and got killed.
He felt that these young boys throwing stones were not very smart. Because Isra-hell, as he called it, had crazy soldiers. They loved to shoot, harass, and kill for no reason.
"Why give them an excuse?" he believed.
He thought the fight needed to be planned and strategic in order to succeed. He didn't like the Palestinian leadership, calling them idiots.
She smiled, thinking about him. How smart he was.
Her classes finished fast. It was hard for her to focus. She found herself in daydreams. She imagined her name next to his last name. It looked so perfect.
She wondered how many kids they were going to have. She felt so dreamy.
Her friend asked, "What are you smiling for?"
She told her how Ali had proposed. Her friend gave her a huge hug and congratulated her.
"Did you guys set a date?"
She smiled.
"No, silly. It wasn't a serious proposal. It was just to tell me he worries about me going to Al-Aqsa Mosque at lunch. He wanted to make sure I’m not harmed."
Her friend laughed.
"Are you going today?"
"But of course."
"Mmm, not sure if that’s a good idea. I heard on the news that the tensions are high, and they don’t let youth between 22-40 get there."
"Well, since I’m only 18 and a girl, I have nothing to worry about, right?"
"True. But be careful, okay?"
She said goodbye to her friend and walked toward the mosque. It was about 3 miles and took her about 30–40 minutes to walk. She loved to walk. October was a beautiful month, and she loved the streets of the West Bank—crowded, full of noise—and that was exactly why she loved it. It was so full of life.
She kept thinking about Ali, remembering his hand on her shoulder, and how their hands touched. How the touch of his hand sent shivers through her spine and all the way to her toes, making her entire body shiver like an electrical wire had passed through her. She felt so happy, so content. Oh... life was so beautiful.
The walk was done so quickly. She didn’t even notice the unusually huge crowd, nor did she notice the soldiers with their guns facing her. One was so close to her that she froze. If her Islamic hijab had not covered her face, the soldier probably would have noticed her red, flushed face.
“Stop!” the soldier screamed, holding his gun right at her face.
She did not realize the severity of the situation and kept walking forward.
“STOP!” he ordered.
“But why?” she asked. “I have nothing. Look…”
She opened her burqa to show him her hands. As soon as she moved her hands up, he fired several rounds of shots.
Samia fell down. Her vision seemed blurry. She still seemed not sure of what had just happened. Only that she had fallen to the ground and felt as though she were soaked. Suddenly she felt as if life was moving away, slipping out of her body.
Everything seemed so weird, so blurry.
Why am I so cold?
She could only see Ali’s eyes staring at her lovingly. She smiled. She loved his eyes so much. Then she was gone... unconscious.
The crowd gathered a few feet away. Other soldiers acted as if nothing had happened. Screams and shouting were increasing from the angry crowd of Palestinians on the other side of the mosque.
“Call an ambulance, you bastards! You criminals! You are terrorists! Leave our home!”
Stones kept falling over. The soldiers, oblivious to Samia’s body, kicked her body with his foot to see if she was still alive. Not that he cared. He just wanted to make sure there was no danger from her.
“These scumbags, subhumans,” he muttered.
The news media camera flashes disturbed his eyes, and reporters taking pictures annoyed him even more.
“Shitheads! They now take pictures of everything. Who gives a damn? No one watches their news except themselves, anyway.”
He thought to himself: I can always use the same line and justify killing this piece of shit. I’ll tell them I felt threatened for my life and assumed she was going to kill me with a knife.
Yep, that sounded like a good reason. Even though she didn’t have any knives, it didn’t matter. His friends at the settlers’ quarter would be happy to testify anything if he asked them to. They loved to see all Palestinians dead. Many came from America just so they could kick these backward people out of their God-given land.
The news was all over TV screens live. Ali was somehow feeling anxiety for no reason. It was 1 p.m., and Samia hadn’t called him yet and was not answering her phone, which was very unusual.
He decided to head over to Al-Aqsa Mosque. While walking, he noticed a huge crowd watching a television screen in a clothing store.
He asked, “What’s going on?”
The guy, without taking his eyes off the screen, responded, “The bastards shot a young girl, and they aren’t letting an ambulance take her to the hospital. So... they’re letting her bleed to death.”
“What?”
Ali felt as though the whole street started turning upside down. His legs suddenly gave in, and he fell on the floor with a big thundering sound. At the sound, the man turned to see what was happening and noticed Ali’s pale face on the floor.
“Help!” he screamed. “Can someone help me here? There’s a guy fainted here! Please!”
A few people ran over. Someone showed up with a glass of water and poured it over Ali.
“Are you okay?” the guy asked.
“Yes... I guess,” he murmured weakly.
Suddenly, he sat upright.
“Tell me, please... what... what happened to the girl on the TV screen?”
“Oh... are you her relative?”
“I am... I am her fiancé,” he finally whispered.
The crowd looked at each other with horrified sadness.
A woman immediately took charge and responded, “Oh... they took her to the hospital. Hope she’ll be okay?”
Some among the group exchanged a conspiratorial look with each other.
The woman continued, “Why don’t you go to her home and get an update?”
Another volunteered, “I’d be happy to give you a ride with my car. It’s parked at the end of this street. I can run and get it. You stay here, I’ll get my car and take you over.”
The crowd started to disperse.
Ali leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.
Please, God... let her be alive. I will dedicate my life to giving half of all I make for the rest of my life to charity. I’ll help in every possible way to all who need help. Please, God, let her be okay.
The car stopped, and the driver reached over and opened the door.
“Get in here.”
He thankfully but almost absentmindedly sat in the car and gave him the direction. As they got closer to the street where Samia lived, there were hundreds of people screaming, “Death to Israel!”
At this moment, he knew she was dead. He was too familiar with these types of scenes. He had seen it too often to know what it meant.
The driver wasn’t sure what to say. He put his hand on Ali’s shoulder, where just a few short hours ago, Samia had placed her hand and squeezed it. Now she was all but gone. Gone forever.
No, that can’t be. This is all just a bad dream. It must be. It was just a few hours ago he had proposed to her to be his wife. From now and forever. Now and forever was gone.
How could this be?
No more now and forever.
No!
He screamed inside, looked helplessly at the driver, whispered “Thank you,” and moved out.
He walked toward the house, pushing his way through the crowd. It was as if he were walking in a total out-of-body experience. Slowly at first, and then, as soon as he was away from the crowd, he started running.
He kept running toward the border. He got there in less than 20 minutes.
There was a crowd of 20–30 young men, aged 18–22, angrily throwing stones at the soldiers. They were enraged due to the news of an 18-year-old girl shot and left to bleed to death. Word had spread all over.
It was said that because she refused to stop entering the mosque for her noon prayers, she was killed.
Ali asked for stones. They handed him a few and told him not to get too close. He took the stones, walked forward, without any hesitation in his determined steps.
The crowd froze.
A few screamed, “Don’t go too close! They’re going to kill you!”
Ali kept walking. When he felt close enough and thought he could hit them well, he started to throw the stones right at the face of one of them.
A scream of pain filled the air.
“Son of a bitch!” one soldier yelled.
He aimed his gun at Ali and shot toward him but missed. The bullet didn’t hit Ali; it just passed next to his ear.
He kept walking, kept throwing stones at each soldier. Somehow, they kept missing him.
After a few attempts, one soldier, jumping behind his jeep, turned and pushed on the gas, driving toward Ali.
Ali saw him coming but kept throwing stones.
The car hit him and crushed him to the ground, spilling blood all over. His body was crushed, but his bloody face had a serene smile painted on it. His eyes looked toward the sky.
It was as if he was seeing Samia’s face waving at him. She had her white bridal dress on, the same one he had seen earlier today at the bridal store. She waved at him until he reached her. She held his hands as they walked toward a light, starting a life of eternity together, forever as husband and wife.
Life was beautiful after all. Only if their parents were with them.
