Misrata’s beaches. Libda. Old pictures. Some random cafe in Tripoli.
Some of my favorite pictures from this past December-January. They probably aren’t interesting to anyone other than myself, but lately I’ve been in no mood to think (ie respond to people’s stupidity as this tumblr was intended for). If I’m not careful I’ll find myself quickly sinking back into my detached, apathetic and self-absorbed self so I need to keep up with all things Libya in some (albeit, sort of also self-absorbed?) manner. It’s incredibly frightening how less ‘enthusiastic’ I’ve been since finals, actually. I had forced myself to step away from twitter so I wouldn’t completely fail my classes, and once finals were through I convinced myself that I needed a break (from sitting on my ass and scouring articles and youtube videos? Yeah, I had the urge to slap myself as well.) But that break’s been sort of indefinite. I keep trying to “get back into it” (as though the crises is a once-favorite t.v. show past its prime) but I can’t. My concern for Libya is obviously not only measured by how much time I devote to social media, but that time is definitely a measure of something.
I remember a conversation I had with my Egyptian professor back in February; we both mentioned how the revolutions seemed to put everything else in our lives into perspective. Things we once thought incredibly important - school, work, -and for me- clothes/general stupid consumerism - seemed incredibly trite. This is going to be another example of how utterly self-centered my thinking seems to be, but it was a welcome shift in mindset for me. This revolution is not about me in any way shape or form, my connection to it is minimal at best, no matter how much (or little) time and energy and I spend in relation to it - but I had thought that in the future, one day, I’d look back and pinpoint the Libyan revolution as inspiring an amazing transformation in my thinking and in myself in general; that I’d stop whining about my ridiculous problems, stop wishing I had more money to spend on clothes, a skinny figure, a pretty face, a more extroverted personality, more talents, more brains, endless calorie-free cupcakes, etc etc and give a shit about something other than myself. That I would not only do something to actualize my proclaimed desires to “change the world” and care for humanity but that my mentality would reach such a point where my actions were not isolated incidents of compassion within an otherwise worldly, materialistic, and - you guessed it - self-absorbed existence, but rather a reflection of who I am morally, ethically and religiously.
I completely realize the idiocy/irony of my complaining about how I am finding it difficult to consider things and people other than myself and again placing myself front & center at a fucking revolution. Where people, who are not me, are dying. Where my family members have been killed, kidnapped, injured, and as I type, are fighting on the front lines. For a revolution that again, has very little to do with me, that in no way could possibly affect me as much as people on the ground, my family members, even my parents. But like I said, I have this amazing ability to perceive things only as they relate to me.
So I thought I changed. Turns out I didn’t, not really or at least not completely-and-forever as I optimistically had believed. This post - which I hope to God no family member ever finds for I’m certain their teasing will never end - probably does nothing but prove that. Did I just throw a pity party for myself? Or just explain my recent and likely foreseeable reduced social media activity in more detail than should be shared publicly? Maybe I should include a poll. Option three will be “Shut the fuck up and get over yourself.” Oh, and maybe a fourth, all of the above.
To make myself feel better, how has the revolution changed you? Or how do you think it has?
