I hated it… that moment…the wrinkled faces are so dear to me…so dear you can’t imagine how dear they’re …the wrinkled faces… the thick glasses… the tired eyelids… the shivering hands…You can’t imagine how dear the wrinkled faces, the thick glasses, the tired eyelids, and the shivering hands are so dear to me… you can’t because you haven’t inhaled the moment of death …

The shivering hands… the blooded eyes… are so dear to me … but you still can’t imagine how dear they are because you haven’t sipped the coffee of death…

There is the torn part of me… a shadow that lurk beneath the dying sun….

I hated it. I just did.

The Arab spring is struggling death… Revive it before it perishes.

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