Vulnerable

Abuse

Every time I go to my bed, or any other bed, trying to sleep, the every night show starts playing in my mind. Like a movie, sequences follow each other; scenes keep repeating and flying like crows attacking a golden tooth in a corpse. Then, the corpse wakes up and screams in pain. I think it was punished in the later life, or early childhood.

What do you imagine when you close your eyes? A dark room, where inappropriate mistreatment took place into, a long time ago? Do you imagine another child giving you a lesson in the ABC of 567? Do you imagine sinking in the darkness and ignorance of silence, and left alone in the middle of a black hole? How many of us think of paradise, a lovely vacation, or nice memories, when eyes are sealed by the lids?

When I become a practicing doctor, I would like to undress every child I treat. I would seek for cigarette burns, bruises, broken bones, and even manipulated genitals. Yet, how to dig into the unseen? How to know what happens when a child or an adult closes his/her eyes? Abuse can be in many forms, yet the emotional or psychological abuse can be the worse and hardest to define and treat. Abuse happen in every age groups, still, the youngest the abused, the worse the outcome. Abuse can be for individuals, families, and nations, and sometimes the abuser is an individual, a group, or a whole nation.

Close your eyes, and think how abused you were? Stop, I didn’t mean it. However, I am this time closing my eyes and telling you what I see. My vision is very blurred, it can spot 2 unclear figures. As they approach closer to me, I got more scared. One of them is very old, and the other is very young. They start talking out loud, and then they start shouting. Each one of them is trying to convince me to join his side. I decide to run away, they start hunting me, and every time they catch a piece of me, I give up this piece to keep running. In the end, I survive, limbless, partless, only my mind could stay in one piece. Anyway, my mind keeps remembering this event until it melts down.

I can’t provide a specific or accurate statistics about abuse, in Saudi Arabia, as it’s legal in here. Marriage is a good excuse to sexually exploit a 9 years old girl. In the end, the prophet Mohammed was married to Aisha when she was 9. To tell the truth, children and females are the weakest chain. It’s not fair to exclude it only to those two, freedom is the abused poor female child. And when freedom is abused, you can expect them, Saudis, to invent many unbelievable and unpredictable methods of abusing. Saudi Arabia, the international inventory lab of abusing and mistreating, welcomes you.

I am afraid that in each house, there’s at least one case of abuse. It could be cruelty, neglecting, manipulation, or anything else. The question is; who to turn to? We’re lonely, vulnerable, and molested. We have nobody beside us. Anyway, it may form a black hole, which engulfs everything, or a white hole to create a universe full of colors. It depends on what you see, when you close your eyes and surf in the sea of memories. 

Oil

I don’t want to die. Because, my body will resolve in the soil, and after million years will transform into oil. The oil will be excreted by weak people, to be given to strong people, whom will use it to empower themselves more, and weaken the others more. Alas, my body before death used to serve higher purposes, and later on will serve those I was fighting.

Lands of oil are rich in pain, in diseases, in unemployed people, in unfairness, and in poverty. As well as resources, it’s full of them until you may find for each pain, there’s a corresponding resource. Yet, to sum up all the pain and bad things in one resource, there’s the black gold. Funny name, the black gold may engulf all the pain, or give a birth to every pain. The oil, the black hole, where every happiness disappear and taken away, to reappear in somewhere else, in the middle of the desert. With every tube takes the oil away, the money of that oil is attached with it. What left over for us, in lands of oils, is poverty and pollution.

The oil is over filling their pocket in money. I could observe that in everywhere my eyes reach. Sometime, mistakenly I stepped over some money notes in London or Lebanon. I realized that it must be a Saudi guy through it away, because he doesn’t need it. Sometimes I notice a Saudi people sneezes in money instead of tissues. I see them pees in bathrooms made of gold. Yet, I couldn’t see single Saudi person pees oil. Umm, I forgot they don’t drink oil, yet we do, people of lands of oil. We inhale it, and drink it, we are forced to drink a poison daily. Yet, they enjoy the money we die making.

When I drive my car in Riyadh, I could notice a whole new infra structure under construction. I could be covered by a new tall building in everywhere. New building which soon would provide more and better occupations. Better jobs for Riyadh residents will provide better income and better life. That’s an investment. An investment will last after the oil runs out. After poverty eats us alive, and drives us to death. After farms turn into an ash. And to keep us blind of what is going on, they repaint a school. They reconstruct a street. They put lights in a dark road. They make roads better places, so our youth spend more time there, doing bad thing, and less time in anywhere else, like schools, universities, education centers, knowledge places doing researches and good things. The only sginificant improvement I could notice here in the prison. hey are ruining us by our hands, by our money, and build a strong empire there in the middle of the desert.

Oil what a strange liquid. It keeps me poor, it keeps others rich.

Pregnancy

I’m surprised how we can judge girls virginity by a small thin membrane. I’m surprised how such a thin body, and weak bones can bear such a very heavy burden over her shoulders. Later on, she stands for over much heavier weight, another person inside her uterus. It could be the miracle of life, in some points of view. Yet, I could tell it’s the disaster beneath our sick minds. It’s lying calm, waiting for you, me, or somebody else insane enough to unleash it. So, the miracle of life, the virgin girl, the fertile soil, and the long waiting baby is just like a bomb. A bomb inside each house, and inside each girl, and it’s just waiting to be exploded. Back to surprises, as I was initially surprised by my community and their judgment, I’m not surprised if a foreign guy starts the fire, and invade the virgin castle. However, I’m stunned to find out spies inside each house, eager to take over the castle, and unleash the fire.


Once upon time, god descended Eve and Adam over the earth surface. They had 4 children, 2 boys and 2 girls. For sure, the idea of replication stuck to their minds. So, the eldest boy married the youngest girl, and vice versa. That way the human being was initiated. I don’t know what they call it in English, the sort of marriage between brothers and sisters. Yet in Arabic, it has very ugly name, Sefah. We, unfortunately, all are results from this sort of marriage, the whole human mankind. Thank you for reading.

Oh wait, I forgot to tell you, this is all fake. This is very stupid to be done. And I think it’s only sick minds think so. Sick minds, whose they dare to marry their sisters. Ewe, marriage is some legalized form of contraction. It’s my friends, doing sex to their sisters. Most frankly, and most honestly, it’s doing sex. I like dogs; they are very funny and very friendly. Yet, dogs are not smart enough; otherwise, they won’t be faithful for man. As well, they’re not smart as they can’t differentiate between mothers, sisters, and sons. They all come along with each other and start the party of replication, regardless, whom the vagina that they’re fucking. Forgive my slang, yet the whole idea is very rubbish. Does it make me laugh, cry, or just stand in surprise? None of that, it’s just taking me to my grave in sorrow, when I see a human being, a Muslim, or claimed so, respectful, and aware of his action, daring to act like dogs and sleep, not sleep, do sex with his sister. I’m in grave, I’m in sorrow, and I’m not sure what I should say next. However, please every boy may read this entry, please don’t sleep with your sister. I knew a boy, who did so, and in shame he must be killed, yet all of us in stupidity laughed and say: they’re insane. We’re insane.