A little personal blog about what happens to an open mind and an open heart in Beirut. The sidewalks may be narrow and space might be scarce, but there's plenty of love in this city.

Expect confessions.
Expect real stories.
Expect real people.

Make do with the fake names.

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The in-between: #notamartyr

“AAAAAAAAARGH!!!”– the sound of animal, from the center of the gut through my burning mouth. The wrenching pain is excruciating and I can’t feel anything else, but a high-pitched burning that simmers every pore to cinders. It’s unbearable, it’s too much, and I close my eyes and fall into a numbing blackout.When I unglue my eyelids,...

Jan 22, 2014, 12:56 PM

18:38:18I’m sleepless in Beirut.It’s back to the usual around here. Only two out of sixteen bulbs in the house are lit, my cat is curled up in a bundle and glued to my left hip and I’m at a crossroads of what to do with this evening. Mom texts me to announce that they’ve landed safely and that this time, they really enjoyed their...

Nov 25, 2013, 8:32 PM

20:57:10I’m sleepless in Beirut.I just woke up from an ill-placed nap. I should already be getting dressed. I grab his shirt and wrap it around to trap the warmth of sleep against my nakedness.The weight of wanting to stay home pulls my every move backwards. Fidgety fingers slide over the sheets to find the ice-cold smooth screen and the home...

Nov 15, 2013, 9:40 PM


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