There are many kinds of sick. There is the sick that Rob has. He pulled his back out. He isn't contagious, but he is in pain. The muscle relaxer and the anti-inflammatory aren't doing much.
There is the sick that Neviyah has. The kind where everything within a certain radius because covered with vomit. And your parents have to clean you up just in time for you to do it all over again.
There is the kind of sick that Alia has. The imagined kind. It comes and goes depending on whether or not she remembers she has "kind have gotten what Neviyah has."
There is the kind of sick I have. The kind that is knotted in my stomach. That compels me to continue reading and being disappointed with the news. The kind that makes me read and notice the hatefulness on Facebook walls. It scares me. I mean it.
When I watch that video, of the high school student, walking with his Israeli flag in the middle of the protesters... He, alone. It makes me cry. (I know. I know.)
I want to scream. STOP! PLEASE! You, the hateful one, the one that keeps posting about my people's "emanate destruction." And you. The blind one. The one who can't think for himself. Who refuses to see anything but the pop version. And you, too. Yes, the one misusing terms. "Peace activist" "Israeli terrorist" "Humanitarian aid"
Don't think I am not critical. I have my issues, but at least they are rooted in truth.