The Aleppine DiaryThe Aleppine Diary

Memories tell tales of terrifying stories, the psyche laments these tragedies that consume the weakened body, dragged in the blink of an eye into a painful past. This is what has become of the Aleppines, engaging in violence & contempt, not towards one another, but towards their own emotions that, should they arise, might incite an uprising in them, further pushing our fragile families & dilapidated city into madness.

I won’t refer to my city as old; for it has possessed a young soul worshiped & guarded by the sun. My city was a bride married to the moons & a shooting star filling its locals & strangers with joy. My city appeared in the dreams of the blessed & the wretched, before death seized & raped her, sitting by her bed proud of his deed.

My city had once been alive. My city had been everyone’s friend, even death. But after he had raped her & satisfied his lust, he wept bitterly & with great remorse.

Death hung himself nine times & his ghosts stood at the nine gates of the ancient city. As my city was on her deathbed, I paraded its quarters & a few times I even encountered death. I was afraid of approaching death to ask him about the state of my city. Had he noticed me being hopeful & joyful for my city, he would have kidnapped me in an instant. But I was anxious & fearful for my city & he left me alone to die with my misery. This is what the people of the city had done to cope.

They butchered their emotions & replaced them with emptiness. Since this hatred began, emotions became ticking bombs that must be thrown before they explode.

Emotions used to be humanity’s driving force. Now, killing these emotions is the first line of defense for the Aleppines who are surrounded by death. They fortified themselves by lowering expectations, by being prepared to hear of someone’s death, or by being ready for various scenarios from the bombs to the kidnapping attempts. After we massacred our own emotions, there was nothing more for death to take from Aleppo. They say it isn’t wise to look at the city as it dies, but remember it when it was alive. I never appreciated her when she was alive.