In some distant part, some kilokilokilometers far away there is a war happening. Like Lorde sang, we live in a hologram. It reaches us just enough to leave us impacted but powerless. Someone's kid is dying, someone is blown into pieces, names i don't even know, someone is praying in a language i don't understand. They won't know they have made their way into someone's words in a language they don't even understand. Like their war, our sympathy reaches them just enough to make them victims but helpless. What good is all the progress made in science if it cannot stop a mass murder? What good is all the books and all the universities, the collective hoarded knowledge of all generations if it cannot stop the blood stained history from repeating itself?
I laid my palm flat against the old stones of the minarets and pressed firmly. Maybe they remembered something. But their corpses stood indifferent to everything, witness to only decay and destruction.
As I prepare my mind to leave again all the objects seem to be staring silently at me. Innocent like a dog. Like a baby. They don't seem to know that I am going but they still seem to be staring in silence. It breaks my heart to see them like this.
I miss going there and sitting among people and talking about everything and giggling and running across the fields. I miss not knowing about the world and dreaming up a thousand possibilities all at once.