libnan, libnan… when will u have enough blood dropped?
I spent the night in Hamra last night, and had plans to take the jolly holiday jingles up to snowy Faqra with friends this morning. Instead, I woke up to an alarming jingle that instantly confirmed the daily fear of every Lebanese citizen: another atrocious bombing, another dozen of innocent victims, another heart-wrenching live coverage that my eyes have become so painfully accustomed to attend to since 2005. This curse is unbreakable. It is here to stay.
A moment of silence this morning for all the lost souls, their families and their loved ones.
A moment of silence for every Lebanese’s shattered dream.
A moment of silence for Beirut’s indefinitely broken heart.
“My Lebanon is a flock of birds fluttering in the early morning as shepherds lead their sheep into the meadow and rising in the evening as farmers return from their fields and vineyards.
You have your Lebanon and I have…
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Al-Must'arib (the vocational Mossarab) 