When will it end?
I have a wish to write something that would awaken a feeling in people, warm like the look of a mother, and shiny, full of hope and satisfaction. Something like a sunset in july in the calm hours of the early evening, when the summer heat leaves us full of satisfaction, hardly able to wait for the slow and coming evening, in the city you love, and in the company of the warm words of friendship. I wish to write something to awaken hope in people, open their eyes, let them breathe, untie their hands, heal them from the poison they all have been infected with, all these years, lied to all these months, betrayed, and every day abused.
Why are we breathing the poisoned air, why do we keep eating the lies we’re fed. Why do we, in the middle of the world, in the old continent, in the place out of the most beautiful dreams, must be hostages of hungry individuals, who weren’t hungry 10 years ago, those individuals who fully experience and breathe in fully in this our (un)fortunate fate that is Bosnia. Their closest ones aren’t here anymore, to share this fate with us, to share this air with us. They are immune to the poison they breathe out with their words, that better times are ahead, that tomorrow won’t be like the past. Don’t be fooled when you see them. Under those masks aren’t people, those are animals, vampires, who for the last 20 years have been feeding on our blood and flesh, our sweat and our greatest tears, like the rains in Mostar, but empty, because all the hope that the sun will come out after every rain has dissipated.
But, I’m an optimist and I believe that there is no more doubt that their days are numbered, that their masks are falling down slowly, and our blood, sweat and tears are almost behind us. Imagine what kind of condition a man is in when he cannot cry, cannot let out a tear of misery and self-pity, to feel at the bottom of the dark river, in which he’s drowning but still stays alive. That is their only way of survival, their only plan, their only game without borders, without rules, only spinning around in circles, in which the people are fully brainwashed and manipulated to the point where they have no personal opinions about their own lives.
I didn’t grow up in this country, but I have been living here for a while. I would love it if someone would enter my brain and see everything from my perspective, so it becomes clear. Because I didn’t grow up here, I wasn’t exposed to the poison of nationalism, the ethnic hatred, and illusion that we really hate one another. When one looks at the situation from the sidelines, it becomes very clear that this instrument of nationalism is is the place where the helpless person who can’t shed a tear, finds himself/herself today. Our leaders, or our animals who rob us shamelessly of our tears and our hopes for a better tomorrow, who have been telling us fairytales about the world for the last 20 years, about better life, Europe. They’ve been pointing to our neighbors who hate us because our names are Omer, or Mladen. They continue to treat us like sheep, a confused herd that needs to be locked up in a small field, to starve or fight for that little bit of nothing that they promised us. All the while, they’re laughing and thinking up a new way to poison us.
It looks like our fate is the field, except of course if we rise up, and stop bickering over names, and rise up together, in one voice of freedom and unity, asking only that which the world promised us on the day we were born. Freedom to breath, Freedome to move around. Freedom to think. Unfortunately for all of us, only those animals that call themselves leaders of today will be able to survive in that poisoned ambiance. They’re the ones free to breathe, to move, and to not worry about tomorrow. But for the rest of us mortals, all we can do is to continue enjoying that July early evening warmth, when the sun slowly sets, and hope that in the words of friendship a better tomorrow comes….
