Please Let me Sleep!!!

“ I don’t want to count the jumping sheep over the fences. I prefer to think about the wolves that are hiding somewhere in the scene”

These questions and childish “ reflections” are part of what my mother used to hear for long years each time she tried to put me in bed.

I was never that kid who sleeps at 8 and wakes up happily and freshly at 7 to start a new brad day.

I used to spend ( and enforced my mother to spend) hours with my arguments and questions as if I was a sophist. Maybe because of those hours I am talkative, I can tell a lot of stories and I can easily have hours of discussions.

I used for long years to sleep 4 to 5 hours daily and I was always super active and fresh like an apple ( as the Spanish people say).

When the war in my country, Syria, started in 2011 I was at the beginning of my thirties. I read about war, the literature of war, and the history of war extensively before living in the war. I can tell with no doubt that reading about war, creating, and living in a world of your imagination is so distinctive from being in a war and living in a world of blood, noise, explosions, and chaos.

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