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Patterns of Love \ <<timed 1700ms>>[[in People of Diaspora.]] \ <</timed>> By Liyan Ibrahim

[[you]] recently started journaling. you never really thought you'd get into it or if it even would be something that is <<linkreplace "helpful">>it wasn't<</linkreplace>>. <<timed 4000ms>>but you started having an issue with separating your thoughts from [[reality]] <</timed>>

you did not experience exile first hand like <<linkreplace "your grandparents">> <<linkreplace "the scholars that write about it">>your parents<</linkreplace>><</linkreplace>> but [[you|you2]] were instead born into it.

your reality is that it is literally an accident of birth, the grace of luck that some of us are not living through unspeakable death and destruction right now or watching our loved ones experience it and for us the only reaction that is at all human is to be utterly horrified by our complicity you should [[journal]]

Pick a date: [[Oct, 15, 2023]] [[Jan, 20, 2021]]

It really started off as just another day, I was sitting in class and I left to the bathroom. Around this time is when my mom normally voicenotes me on WhatsApp because it is right before she goes to sleep since its almost midnight in the UAE. I leave and I see a voicenote from her. [[Listen to the voicenote]] [[Wait till class ends]]

I can’t believe this comes easy to some people. Regardless of how many hours i spent crafting and practicing my [[identity]] some aspect of it will always be problematic to someone [[distract();]]

Was there a point in my life where i didnt think about this where the songs sung me to sleep were just songs I sometimes wish i could just ^^ forget^^ But not in the way my lands have been [[erased…]]

I’ve realized I don’t have that privilege .... one of not thinking [[do i like it over there?]]

<<linkreplace "If home is an idea i carry with me">>[[why am i longing for a homeland?]]<</linkreplace>> [[distractAgain();]]

[[Do I like it over there?]]

[[why am i longing for a homeland? |homeland]] [[IneedtoDistract()]]

[[Proceed]] [[go back]]

I hate [[labels]]. I'm never enough of one thing, but im never a combination of anything. At least I never felt like it

sorry, you can't, you can only [[Proceed]]

Belonging is a privilege i may never have and while I’ve never returned to my homeland - it always returns to me Defeated, you [[close]] the journal

I play the voice note as I’m leaving the bathroom heading back to class. “Hi liyan,<<linkreplace "kefek">>how are you?<</linkreplace>>, I know you’re probably in class but can you do me a favor…. dont watch the news today They bombed a hospital, a lot of people died” I immediately stop the voicenote and I head back to class, trying to forget the fact that I listened to the voicenote and what it said. I kept telling myself that I'll “deal” with it once class ends. 30 minutes go by and I cant focus and I leave class [[Check the news]] [[Call mom]]

I wait till class ends. When class ends, I kind of forget about the voicenote, I didn't think it would be anything important. I voicenoted my mom a couple hours ago that my stomach was hurting and I thought she was just responding to that. I'm chilling outside of the classroom talking to people before deciding to listen to her voicenote. “Hi liyan, kefek (how are you), I know you’re probably in class but can you do me a favor…. dont watch the news today They bombed a hospital, alot of people died” I immediatly [[call my mom|Call mom]]

I quickly type in “aljazeera arabic” on google and click on the first link. I felt like I couldnt see.. Everything was blurry and time has stopped [[I call my mom|Call mom]]

I call my mom. My voice is shaking; i feel selfish for seeking comfort from my palestinian mom. She answers the phone... "Hi" "Hi mama, what did they do? they bombed the hospital... do we know how many people died?? Who died??" My mom responds to the string of questions: "liyan they bombed the hospital and a lot of people died, the videos are really bad, very bad. I told you what happened, please don't watch the news. you're far and alone" I respond as I begin to cry: "oh, when are they going to stop? they need to stop right? they have to?" the phone call eventually ends [[Open the news]] [[Don't check the news]]

I open aljazeera.. I'm overwhelmed and emotional so I open instagram thinking that i would more see a more condensed/summarized/highlights of the attack. [[open instagram]]

I take my moms word for it and I don't check the news. I kept telling myself: "Liyan, mama told you what happened; you dont need to watch the news; its not your responsibility; you're Palestinian" I [[open instagram]]

I open instagram but not to news, to a message from a friend that read: "hey liyan, i was just speaking to the principle of the school we tutor at in Gaza. The last 7 kids that were alive passed away today from the airstrike on the hospital. I'm so sorry for your loss. Their names were.... " and she starts listing them Defeated, you [[close]] the journal

They did not recognize me in the shadows \ <<timed 1500ms>>That suck away my colour in this Passport \ <<next 2000ms>>And to them my wound was an exhibit \ <<next 2500ms>>You wouldn't even know what it's like. \ <<next 3000ms>>Because the trees recognize me \ <<next 3500ms>>All the songs of the rain recognize me. \ <<next 4000ms>>Don't leave me pale like the moon! \ <<next 4500ms>>Stripped of my name and identity? \ <<next 5000ms>>Don't leave me pale like the moon! \ <<next 5500ms>>On a soil I nourished with my own hands? \ <<next 6000ms>>Today Jacob cried out \ <<next 6500ms>>Filling the sky: \ <<next 7000ms>>Don't make an example of me again! \ <<next 7500ms>>Don't ask the trees for their names \ <<next 8000ms>>on't ask the valleys who their mother is \ <<next 8500ms>>From my forehead bursts the sword of light \ <<next 9000ms>>And from my hand springs the water of the river \ <<next 9500ms>>All the hearts of the people are my identity \ <<next 10000ms>>So take away my passport! \ <</timed>> [[back to reality |identity]]

“I am from there. I am from here. I am not there and I am not here. I have two names, which meet and part, and I have two languages. I forget which of them I dream in". I hate the world today in a way i never thought i could [[Back to reality|do i like it over there?]]

““If the Olive Trees knew the hands that planted them, Their Oil would become Tears.” Is this a form of [[love|Do I like it over there?]]?

<div id="try">This morning I learned the english word <<linkreplace "gauze">>(finely woven medical cloth)<</linkreplace>> comes from the Arabic word <<linkreplace "غزة">>or Ghazza<</linkreplace>> because Gazans have been skilled weavers for centuries I wondered then how many of our wounds have been dressed because of them and how many of theirs have been left open because of [[us]] </div>

<div id="try">you've come to realize that all the love you've experience in your day to day life feels difference, an extreme emotion you thought everyone was meant to feel you realize that there is no greater love than ==loving== longing for your ==home== homeland you realize your reality is not a common one. ''How do you mourn an entire city?'' ultimatley, patterns of love in people like you, ''are just different forms of grief.'' And as long as there is love; there will be [[grief]] </div>

you often forget what language you think in, what language you dream in, what language you use to express yourself in "Absent, I come to the home of the absent," you [[love|in People of Diaspora.]] in absence

<div id="part2">==these are Patterns of Love in People of Diaspora ==</div>