Monday, December 10, 2012

A HUNDREDTH OF A SECOND. Marc F. (2n batx A)


WAR

28th November 2012

I am exhausted and so is my soul. The horror in the faces I photograph every day is wearing me out. Today, as yesterday, we have been looking for the best photo: the most terrified face, the most tens moment or a shot in a dead body. That is what western people want to see: how others kill themselves, so that they can feel fortunate.
Today we have gone to Hadrej, as there was a battle there. We have done 200 km in a van with the CNN team; my team and me to take a picture, CNN to film death. That is not what I meant when I entered this profession; I wanted to show the world the sad sight of life and humanity -and I do-, but I have realised that it isn’t ethic nor fair.

29th November 2012

I feel execrable. I’m a sort of furniture watching the events. Just watching how people die around me. John has died today: it is part of the job. But that little child crying in the middle of the road, who has done nothing, seated on the top of his mother’s body with all those flies around him... Oh no! I can’t stand it anymore!
I am getting mad. I could have never imagined humans would be able to be this cruel, this insensitive; this inhuman! There is only death in this place. I had got so used to it that I didn’t even see further of my camera. Thanks god I have woken up of that dream to live the real nightmare. A dark nightmare I want to escape from, but I can’t.

30th November 2012

The photo of the little child appeared yesterday on the front page of Washington Post. I am giving up. In two days I am taking a plane back to USA; that’s enough. I am sorry diary, but I am not capable to write...

2nd December 2012

Here I am: back to the “civilized” world. Now I am far away from war, death and pain –physically- . But I have been injured: injured by all those eyes claiming for a clemency they would never have; by all that hope that people lost; by all that peace they dreamt of; by all that help I never gave them.

You have been my witness, dear diary.
Farewell.
Marc Flores
2nd BATX A

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