3.5*
history, facing the present,
"Mixed in the blood of the dead Palestinians is as much Lebanese blood, Lebanese who died for them, and with them. For the first time in Arab History one group has died for another."
pity and sympathy intertwine, questions are asked, silently, till there's nothing left, but do tell me, what will become of this city?
"He was fighting—that was all there was to it. For what? To preserve. To preserve what? His group’s power. What was he going to do with this power and this group? Rebuild the country. What country? Here, everything became vague. He lost his footing. Because in this country there were too many factions, too many currents of ideas, too many individual cases for one theory to contain. "
beirut, west and east, with its bloodied sea and flowing roads, its haze and sun and glistening souls,
"Never has a city lived under such an iron sky."
love in a funeral, death in a room,
"My love had promised me an apple orchard. Today, it’s death that’s promised me. At this moment I feel closer to him than ever."
thoughts streaming out, in search for words, forgotten prayers hovering in the base of the skull, beneath the skin, silently being watched,
"God, whoever you are, protect the future generations from the genocide that awaits them."
more on history, on the present, on the future, and the intersection of it all
“What love? More than a hundred million Arabs and not one knows how to love!"