For them, it’s 67 years of glory. 67 years of existence. 67 years of belonging.
For us, it’s 67 years of remembrance. 67 years of pain. 67 years of lost identity.
But seriously, what is those 67 years represent? what’s the actual outcome? what actually happened during these years? or before these years? or even, after them?
Will the number just increase and become something to represent our past? our living? or ambition? what will this number do to us? What will we even do to this number? it will become a larger number and then it will be too big for us, and we won’t even think about it? or try to get involved in history?
This number gets larger and larger as time passes by. After all it’s just a number, and it’s just about years. It’s about decades, yet not centuries. Still it’s older than us, and we will get old, die and our memory will be gone. Will we leave something behind? something, or someone to remember us? to remember who we are? or to remember who they are?
Maybe this number, these years, are all in illusion. An illusion time has left for us to question our being, to question who we are, and most definitely to question our enemies. Or maybe, eventually, we became the enemies of ourselves, and them, the others became the innocent people fighting for their own existence. While we’re still defending our own resistance.
After 67 years, nothing makes sense anymore. Even history, or facts, or living. Should we give up? or keep fighting for something that is already lost?
After 67 years, should we just close our eyes and rest?