Category Archives: Everywhere

What I want from myself

I want to drink hot and colorful tea under the sun all the time.
I want you to wash my dishes and dirty clothes.
I want to tease all people on the telephone -with a private number.
I want them to quit nazism¬rasism.
I want to stop all bad accidents bevor they happen
I want to be shinning instead of the sun.
I want an atom reactor to make electrisity fpr all poor people in the world.
I want to kill all killers.
I want to be a bird and shit on all passports cause all birds are free and they dont need passports`
I want a long wood to jump in the sky and I want the sky to keep me for ever.
I want to knock on my neighbor`s door and run away.
I want to smooth a hard heart with sand paper.
I want to tickle my partner.
I want to confuse myself with this question [what so I want from myself]
I want some place to yell.
I want some ear to bite.
I want to be serious when I request some girls for marriage.
I want to dust the sky so that stars will fall down and then I`ll pick them up.
I want when I get up all my friends to bent down to me.
I want to search myself.
I want two chairs to sit with you.
I want to fly to the galaxy.
I want to change all dissapointment to happiness.
I want to go back home soon.

I wish to live in a peace and happy place

The main problem is I have three sisters and one brother. Our parents died. Because of the war we lost our parents. We couldn’t our life in peace. We would love to study bu we were stooped. I decided to go to a Europe country.
The first thing that comes in my mind when I thing about Greece it is no place that can help us or solve our problems.
From my point of view there is no border for human beings because we are human. From three month that we are crossing the borders we did not smile because we are anxious for crossing the border. Whenever we go somewhere people look at us like we are criminals or have bad manners.
If I would life with complete freedom in a world without borders … I want to live my life as a normal human being like a European. I want to study and step up to a good position. It is not my fault that I am from Afghanistan. From childhood till now we spent our lives in sadness.
If I would be an animal I would be a bird so I can fly somewhere to a very peace and happy place.

When I crossed the border …

Before going to Europe I checked the internet for information about my journey. I read that on one of the borders they had special controle machines to recognize immigrants in the dark by the warmth of their bodies. It was night, dark and I was alone in a forest. I only understood I was walking in circles after I stepped for the third time in the same puddle. I said to myself: Ok, you are not walking straight obviously. But it was impossible. I concentrated so much on walking straight and not making any turns to the left or the right. Finally, I crossed the border. I went to a bush and waited. If there were these machines, I thought, then they would see me, so I wanted to wait for the border guards to come and catch me. I waited for them because I did not want them to catch me from the back. Continue reading When I crossed the border …

Poem by me, …

…. the crazy boy
It’s very difficult that you stare gaze in the eyes of someone that she steal all of your love.
And in the place of that she gave you a wound “sore” in your heart as a gift. And in the place of that
you became full of hatred. You feel that you still love her.
It’s very difficult. You want to leave your head on a wall, that one time all of your body is crushed under the falling debris of it.
It is very difficult that you talk with her for hours, in your imagination. But when you see her … you can’t say anything, only “Hi”. It’s very difficult when your back is in front of her. And the tears wet your cheek. But you are compelled to laugh, till she don’t understand your love her.
It’s very difficult you see the flower of your wishes in another garden. Then, you break in your inside … then you say very quietly: My flower, I wish you happy in your new garden.

In the name of Allah

I am Aziz S. I am from Afghanistan .i am17 years old .at first I want to say all of us have a bad condition life. Also life everywhere is to much hart. For all of us, we didn’t know! Why? Because we are refugees. We want asylum or rest, we don’t want anything else. Just that. We want to go front, like Italy. But we cant’ go front and we can’t go back, like Afghanistan. I came here because my marriage. My marriage is in Finland know. I want to go there but I can’t, why? I don’t know! Do you know why!? Also, I want to meet my parents! When can I meet them? Tell me! I want an answer. I despair of life and of everything.

Jawad’s Reise

Hallo ich bin Jawad und ich wohne seit dreieinhalb Jahren in Hamburg. Ich komme aus Afghanistan und ich möchte meine Geschichte erzählen wie ich nach Hamburg gekommen bin. Es ist eine lange Geschichte. Dass ich von meinem Land weggegangen bin war nicht meine Entscheidung. Und es war auch nicht meine Entscheidung dass ich in diesem Land geboren wurde.

Als ich vier Jahre alt war musste ich mit meinen Eltern mein Dorf und Land wegen dem Krieg in Afghanistan verlassen. Wir sind in den Iran geflüchtet. Im Iran war die Situation für Flüchtlinge aus Afghanistan nicht gut. Wir bekamen ein Papier um nur kurzfristig da zu leben. Wir durften nicht zur Schule gehen, nicht arbeiten und nicht etwas in unserem Namen kaufen. Sie machten so viel Druck auf uns damit wir so schnell wie möglich wieder zurück gehen. Wenn sie uns auf der Straße sahen wurden wir immer kontrolliert und es ist auch oft passiert dass Männer wenn sie von der Arbeit kamen festgenommen und abgeschoben wurden. In Maschat an der Grenze gab es ein Konzentrationslager für Afghanische Flüchtlige. Es gab kein Essen, nur ganz viel Folter. Ich war nicht in diesem Lager aber meine Freunde haben mir davon erzählt. Sie standen den ganzen Tag in der Sonne oder im Winter in der Kälte, sie mussten Zwangsarbeit machen, manchmal wenn sie rausfanden dass man das zweite Mal im Iran war wurden sie gefoltert. Fast alle die das Lager verlassen konnten wurdern psychisch krank und dann wurden sie nach Afghanistan abgeschoben. Immernoch heute werden Leute an der Grenze von Soldaten erschossen, viele haben Angst davor und fliehen nicht mehr in den Iran.
Continue reading Jawad’s Reise