Isa: Apparently I Snore So Loudly That It Scares Everyone In The Car I'm Driving.

Jake: You can’t set all your problems on fire.

Isa: You’d be surprised by how many things are flammable.

“fuck, i hate you but i want to squeeze you in my arms. am i in love or are you just really annoyingly cute?”

- coffee drunk friends chapter 3 unedited version, isa dialogue.

Jake: Any advice before Kai and I fight?

Isa: Don’t wet yourself in public.

Jake: Not the kind of advice I was looking for.

Kaylee: Kai, I’m so happy I could kiss you!

Kai: *nervous laughter* Umm… Neat!

[Later]

Kai: I can’t believe I said neat, Jake. Neat! Nobody says neat anymore! It’s the goddamn 21st century! It’s not neat to say neat, but I said it anyway because I’m a huge loser!

Jake: *idly turns magazine page* Hey, don’t beat yourself up. Everyone gets nervous sometimes. Remember what happened when Isa confessed to me?

Kai: Didn’t you like, thanked her?

Jake: *closes magazine and stares at the ceiling* I thanked her.

A Picnic Under the Stars

are we a happy ending or a tragedy?

Stars shone as sugar split over black marble, glistening what was left of the sun as twilight captured the majestic sky, turning into a brilliant blend of purple and orange. The once bustling city of Manhattan became deserted at night. All the gates shut, and the tiny, beige townhouses were lit inside. Families danced around the table, singing nursery rhymes you could hear from miles away.

She loved Manhattan, she told herself. She loved it because it was the home she never thought she needed. Sure, it was bustling and hustling during the day, but at night, it was beautiful. She didn’t like Manhattan at first, mainly because of the busyness vibe it gives off. At night, everything was possible.

She ran as fast as her two feet can carry her, her chestnut hair falling behind her, dancing in the cold, frosty air. Jumping over a black, rusted gate, she started to climb a wall covered with thick thorns, decorated with red and pink roses. To her surprise, she wasn’t alone.

Both of them were equally startled. “What the hell? Who are you?” She said, troubled.

“What do you mean, who am I? Who are you?” He gasped with a feeble voice.

“I come here to see the stars at night.” She responds. “You?”

“Same here. It gets boring during the day.”

She sits down next to him, getting a good glimpse of his jet-black hair, his sharp jawline, the way his honey skin glows in the dark, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. They sit there for a good while, casually admiring the stars.

“Do you wanna…have a picnic?” She breaks the silence. He falls silent for a moment, and for a moment, she think she’s made a mistake.

“Never mind, it was a stu-”

“Let’s do it.”

She sat there, mouth agape as he took a small blanket from his white tote bag full of college books and tons of snacks he tossed onto the blanket. She snorted as he handed her a Twix bar and some marshmallows. For a moment, she felt butterflies in her stomach, her cheeks deepening to a light shade of rosy pink.

“There.” He points to a constellation. “That’s Libra, and over there. That’s Cancer.”

“I don’t know much about astrology.”

“You don’t need to.” He assured her. “In the sky, you can see their stories.”

“Wow.” She sighed in awe. Those constellations were breathtaking. She’ll admit it, she’s not very good at spotting constellations, but she can find stars. Isn’t that enough?

For the first time, she found someone who understands what it feels like to be confined. To have limited freedom and control, to erase personalities not desired. She isn’t alone anymore.

“Do you .....wanna hang out sometime?” He asked, a little flustered.

“Sure, I’d like that.”

Isa: My love for you is like dirty socks.

Jake: You know what, I’m tired of these weird-.

Isa: It’s worth washing.

Jake: *tearing up* Okay.

A Reminder

Palestine is not over. Palestine is not dead. Gaza, the West Bank, the entire region between the river and the sea, and the various countries across the world where refugees have fled to, house a surviving people and surviving culture. Palestine is not dead, and WILL NOT die.

I'm seeing a lot of very valid despair online, but if you're someone like me, living a privileged life in a Western country NOT under active bombardment, and which is actually COMPLICIT to some degree in that bombardment: we don't get to give up. Not now, not ever.

You can still get involved in protests or direct actions (e.g. blocking supply), you can still donate eSims or fund UNRWA on your government's behalf, you can still hassle the crap out of your local MP. No, it won't roll back the harm that's already been committed, but all of those things are STILL WORTH DOING. PEOPLE ARE STILL ALIVE OVER THERE. PALESTINE IS STILL WORTH SAVING.

If you've bothered to read this far, you're probably already aware of what's going on over there right now. If not, check out Al Jazeera's fantastic coverage. But also remember that Palestine, and Palestinian culture, is more than just death and despair. Examples below:

Long live Palestine, from the river to the sea.

Jake: What did you learn in school, Isa?

Isa: Not enough to graduate. I have to go back tomorrow.

Jake: A crush is called a crush because she will most likely crush your feelings.