There is nothing cool about being in your twenties. Whoever said it was is a big fat liar. When you are twenty-something, you worry about university. About exams. About last minute revisions. About whether you did well or if you could have answered question 5 differently.
In your twenties, you suffer your first major heartbreak, the one that changes you as a person. The one that makes you insecure, lonely, bitter. The one that makes you write poems, listen to Radiohead and eat pizza in bed. You make new friends. You go out a lot. Only to come back to a very lonely place.
Filed under disappointment, Dream, Family, freedom, Friends, Goodbyes, growing up, Lebanon, Life, London, loneliness, Love, Memories, people, Relationships, soul, struggle, Work
The Lebanese passport is not the best one to have. Don’t get me wrong, I am proud of my country. Yes, I am proud. Proud of being able to ‘ski and swim on the same day’, proud of our hummus, proud of our multi-lingual upbringing, proud of the Lebanese success stories on the international scene keeping in mind Lebanon is a tiny-teeny country, proud of our family values, of our strong educational institutions, of our sophisticated banking system, of our ability to (kind of) cohabitate when we are 18 officially recognized religious groups, proud of our ability to survive (and somehow forget) a painful – and recurrent – history, of our persistence to make it happen on our land despite all odds, of the fun in our clubs… Being Lebanese has however a lot of downsides. Holding the Lebanese passport is one of many.
Filed under Ambition, Dream, Family, freedom, Goodbyes, growing up, Lebanon, Life, London, struggle, Work
I’ve always tried to point out that one particularity that attracts me to people. I’ve tried putting down lists of the things I liked most in my preferred members of the family, closest friends, boyfriends, colleagues. But the task proved impossible. Nothing seemed to link them. Their age varies between 20 and 95. The colour of their hair ranges from charcoal to white. The sound of their voice from weak to powerful. Some of them I met in my hometown, Beirut. Others during my voyages, in Paris, in London, in Sri Lanka, in New York. Some I met while sun bathing on a Lebanese beach. Others while studying Law in the city. Some have achieved a high level of education. Others only speak their mother tongue. Some are rich and (kind of) famous. Others enjoy a modest life and an intimate circle of friends. Some are men. Some are women. Some have married, had children, grand children. Some chose to live a free, careless, adventurous life. Some I loved from the first contact. Others grew on me with time. Some have helped me find my way. Others I tried to help in my own way. With some I discussed serious, deep, heavy matters. With others I have enjoyed that odd beer on a rainy terrace. Some I lost touch with. Some others I speak to every once in a while. Some I only saw once. I always think of those people. Those who are very special to my heart. Those who make life worth living. Those who manage to delete all its sorrow and pain. I’ve always tried to understand what it is about them that is so special. What is it about them that makes them so beautiful, regardless of age, height, weight?
I guess it is soul.
Filed under bonds, Dream, Family, Friends, fun, growing up, Lebanon, Life, links, London, Love, Memories, people, Relationships, soul
Elle avait rêvé de lui plusieurs fois. Elle avait l’impression de le connaitre ; mais pas vraiment. Elle se réveillait souvent un peu confuse, en sursaut, encore incertaine de son éveil, encore perturbée de la rencontre, encore sous le charme. Elle essayait alors le sommeil forcé, comme pour continuer la rencontre, comme pour provoquer une suite, une suite qu’elle écrirait à son goût, dictée par ses envies, rythmée par les battements de son cœur, nourrie par ses folies.