Maysaloon - ميسلون

In the back of my mind I still retain romantic notions of being able to call to account the British government for its 'excesses' in the Middle East, my homeland. Studying law has opened up a panorama of possibilities and it is an exciting field, albeit tedious because this is not *my* law, as a Muslim and as an Arab. Law is a function of society, a society which is free and confident in its rules, culture and place in history. Whilst my own heritage has no shortage of resources to draw upon, there is no country remaining where this culture is truly still expressed. A situation that leaves me frustrated but through which I must persevere. I've come to the conclusion that more people who are passionate about resistance and about resisting occupation need to learn the systems of government, law and philosophies of these countries that are sending their armies and gentlemen spies over to us. But the task is daunting, the books to be covered are mountainous and the mental and physical strain seems to almost crush me at times. There is also the small issue of having to work for a living, of having to deal with the pathetic remants of that thing I used to call a life. There are glimmers of light that shine through every now and then and these cheer me up considerably, but a combination of deep scars from the past, a crushing work load and a merciless atmosphere of competition and deadlines, from work as well as on the course all bear their crushing weight on me. I walk slowly, step by step, upwards through this tunnel, viewed as an oddity by the passerby and long abandoned by loved ones.