No one passes through the streets of the Mujahideen

Number of pages: 143 pages Publisher: Al-Adab Al-Arabi It is unfortunate that everyone talks about love and forgiveness while the world speaks to you harshly and exhausts corpses every morning. Where did all this death come from if everyone is so gentle and light-hearted? The death hub from which you, Ya Musab, ascended is mysterious and rotten. I used to feel that I wake up every morning in someone’s grave and remove intestines from my belly and go on. I used to feel that all the severed hands and bodies on the side of the road are maps and that the road is a boat in the depths of death. You can imagine, my friend, how someone can simply cut off a neck and then go to have breakfast. I used to feel that death is a body and I am a sick cell... Sometimes I fade and parts of the good wake me up.