I don't know why i feel that summer is one of the busiest seasons for me. I seem to have too little time for anything, yet I'm always complaining of "ksad". Ksad is a common Libyan word, it is often used during the summer, because as busy as things get, there is always a room for --I'm bored, it is boring!When you have so much to do, the word ksad shouldn't be used but then i use it anyways. It is really ksad!!
I have finished two books this previous week, by Toni Macguire, Don't Tell Momy & When Dad Comes Home and its her getting personal about her years of being molested by her own father. I was inspired by her courage, her ability to look at the brighter side, her determination and her hard work. Many times, when i read for her i felt like kicking him, i don't even want to think of him as her father, as he doesn't deserve being one. The word father is too precious for ppl of his kind. At times, i felt i was reading fiction because my brain just didn't want to disgust the idea that such a thing took place, i wanted to hold Toni, and hug her during her younger years when everyone else was rejecting her for what she has gone through, when her own doctor looked in her eyes and gave her the nasty look(when her own father got her pregnant at the age of 14), and i wanted to be her friend when everyone rejected her. I wanted to give her shelter, to pull her out from the monster she lived with. But i didn't exist then, and even if i had what is there to assure me that i would have taken anything different then those surrounding her? I kept imagining myself being Derek or her teacher would i have helped her? I kept asking myself? or would i have been so rejecting like everyone else?