Meet The Little Patriot

  I was looking at the human being in the mirror, and actually I found nothing. Yes, Michael Jackson had lied to me. :P So, I deduced, I was a phantom. 
  I decided to go around like a ghost, causing mess, getting all the old dusty things out of the drawers, till I found an old copybook. I let the pages run between my fingertips and had those Harry-Potter moments, when you see the little you within the flipping papers and the fuming dust was nothing but spread perfume, that lovely odor of the past.

  I found the little me talking. No, the discussion wasn't addressed to me, cause actually the words, which had been said, ran out of my mouth on one of those days, in one of those discussions I used to open with my parents when it came to studying National Subjects, when I was the shorty patriot, when my parents used to look at me and have that breath of confidence "we brought up -like they say- a good citizen." That little person used to say: "That's my land. I have rights. I have commitments too. I am free to express myself the way I want. I have the right to choose the route which I see as being the best for me. I have the commitment to help someone who needs my knowledge to let him live as well as I do. Being a girl can never be an obstacle. Being young can never be a block. If someone will stand in my way while I'm working for the sake of my country, I'll defend my dream and fight."
  To be honest, meeting such personality made my respiratory system a perfect model for a chimney, made my thoughts like a roller coaster running on the grooves of my brain, made my throat cuffed, made my soul shiver. 

All in all, she made my world spine. I was like "if that was me in the past. The little me. The one whose ideas were naive, illogical. Who is that coward saying 'I wanna be off this land as soon as possible'? Who is that person who is shamelessly retreating?"

Hey, I've my own conditions, right?
The question is: if I had the chance to travel to Somalia, would I disagree? No, I'll agree of course! Why? Cause I believe in my mission. Why? Cause I am an Arab and I have to help. Why? Cause my religion says so. Why? Cause humanity forces me to be what I was created to be....a human. Then, out of the blue, comedy fat structure -woman- appeared in that loud -شرشحة- tune saying "اللى يعوزو البيت يحرم على الجامع." 
  Patriotism is perfectly fulfilled by an action, but it can be beautifully and simply done by knowledge to armor its existence. It doesn't have to be about participation in protests. It can simply be self-educating about politics -in case you were that interested- and inspire youth. Old people have their opinion already formed, STONED, unchangeable. Of course, such stony heads are wrong to be like that, but that's how our environment, our negativity, self-denial, immutability, despair and our...."education" built those people. We've to save the youth (yes, we're young, but I consider what we went through, manned us up, made us older than our history books, made our hope as ashy as burnt Roman corpse, so.....we've to protect who is younger), cause those are our partners who will be surviving with us till the end. If we let the "old" shape them as they were originally "hypnotized," we still would be talking to the wall then turn around to throw the blame on the one in the mirror!

  I know you may reached, miraculously, this very paragraph out of boredom, may be I am not making sense, may be my vision is toddler's, but such chronic thoughts might kill me if I didn't kicked them out. :D