All those sweet bitter memories

I woke up yesterday to the sound of sirens. Because yesterday, the 15 of July they commemorate the first attack of Turkey over Cyprus. And apart from thoughts like, oh my God, what if they attack again and why are these sirens so damn loud, I began to think of about all those collective memories that countries keep record of and celebrate or commemorate at given times.

It seems to me like we tend to accent all the violence that occurred during the existence, the rise or the fall of our country. We make a big deal out of all the wars that "freed" us for example. The war of independence is the best example. And we feel the need to express our happiness loudly omitting to think for a second that no matter the cause, nor the outcome of that war, weather it was gaining autonomy or a new piece of land, it was still a war. A war that killed people, a war that was started and lead by just a couple of men how had to prove something. You would say revolutions are different, but no matter how well justified they are on paper, we still need to at least stop for a moment and think that none of these were conducted on petal of roses. When you see the documentaries it seems like the killing and the destroying done so "well" is what we were put here to do in the first place.

And I understand why we celebrate our day of independence, the revolutions that brought us so called freedom - I'm not getting into that now - and I get why we need to remember all the wars and the terror they caused. You can't close your eyes and pretend it never happened. As you hear so often "people need to know". But it seems to me like we haven't learned anything and moreover like we are running on a spiral whose circles are getting bigger and bigger as our weapons get bigger an bigger. Nuclear weapons? How could a man of science ever invent that?

I don't want to carry on with this anymore because it's depressing. I would just like to say that I wish people would hold on more to happier memories. Like this English man who seemed so proud that I was taking pictures of his car. I can even imagine the day he bought it. What I love about this car is that it no longer represents the desire for materialistic goods. It's a beautiful memory of an old man retired in Cyprus to live out his golden years.