Dry pen
I keep typing and erasing
I’m afraid to hope any more
I’m scared to think of what’s to come
I’m no longer living my days, my days are the numbers I count.
The weekend is my future now.
I await it to collapse.
I feel shame whenever I smile or laugh
I feel guilty seeking opportunities
I feel disgusting when I shower
I feel greedy if I aspire for more
I feel selfish when I complain
I feel broken yet grateful
It’s known from great pain comes great art
But what if the pain it too unbearable to comprehend
What if it’s too unbearable to express
If art is the voice of the pen, but the pen is dry.
Who am I, to write?
About the Author
Rand is a 26-year-old Palestinian. She is the youngest of four children; she finished her undergraduate studies at Bir Zeit University, Ramallah, Palestine. During her university years, Rand grew more interested in the humanitarian structure and the Palestinian cause from a humanitarian point of view. Through volunteering and networking, Rand received many pieces of training in crisis management, and emergency navigation, as well as, humanitarian structure, signature, and localization allowing her to employ her knowledge in her career and as a volunteer with many local and international humanitarian organizations. Moreover, Rand is a very expressive artistic person who attempts to share her human experience through pen and brush. She is captivated by sunsets and Palestinian beauty.
All photos in the series are by Rand.