This post. Is carefully worded. Because words. Still matter.
They put you in a small room. Very small. No cell phone. No keys. Just walls. They send a soldier every now and then. He pretends to be your friend. He asks stupid questions. You give him stupid answers. They wait for you to get scared. They make you wait. They make you wait. They make you wait. And so you wait. Two and a half hours later. They call you in. To the big man’s office. It is a matter. Of. State. Security.
This post. I remind you. Is carefully worded.
A cul de sac. Of ambiguity. But read. Between the lines.
He berates you. He calls you unprofessional. He threatens you with prosecution. He threatens you with jail. All because of one page. 795 words. To be exact. In print. Every word is translated. It sounds worse in Arabic. It sounds wrong in Arabic. It is wrong in Arabic. But you attempt. To fight back. Fire with fire. Metaphorically of course. But then you discover. It’s useless. It’s futile. So you succumb. Because you just want to leave. You want to get the hell out. Of there. So you flatter. So you ask. How it can be resolved. The solution is too simple. The consequences are too harsh. The contrast is stark. And you do mental arithmetic. It’s just not worth it. Not over this.
This. Post. Is. Carefully. Worded.
(dedicated to the people whose job it is to fuck with our minds. because i wouldn’t feel like myself if i didn’t post this. in all its ambiguous glory)