im stuck in tripoli, well.. you know
i think the action is proliferating north . .so * me. my frend is living in hamra, so she's amidst a new quasi-state of post-syrian invasion. and when you ask for a picture of the situation near her place .. birdie bird.
that sums it up no?
normally people try to fly over coocoo nests. .people attempt. but hail the new breed of flyers.
im here, but i smell the burning air. i fear going to my flat in beirut
im scared of walking on dying sidewalks and crying windows
its not that im ashamed of my city. i dunno if im ashamed of myself more. what could have i done. nothing?
i can always do something. i am armless, and i regret so. i never thought of myself as someone violent, my idea of social power is public art for god's sake!
i can always do something, but now..i dont know what.
i am going to beirut ..someday
i will walk wherever i want, and put off cigarette buds on its gridded gray sidewalks. fuck me greenpeace, i want to tickle it. i want to drink and spill. i want to sit on the ground and lay back..smell the exhaust of traffic, traffic, traffic. i cursed the traffic, but i want it in my lungs, the carbon...now silent.
i want an earthquake..snipers falling in rainbows from my roofs
i want to fry some eggs and make my neighbbors smell. i miss the neighbors i dont speak to except in elevators..
i miss my sitting room with no lights. and my leaking toilet. i want marlene, my overbooked cleaning god!
what the hell. i like to get lost. its my favourite feeling in the whole wide world. when i write; i like words to write themselves, when i walk..i try to go where i dont know.. i worship our public transport system for its randomness..
but this is bullshit.
"come , come , come to my sweet melody...sing it back" _whatever
im acquiring new habits. taking more showers, cutting my nails in more advanced techniques, to fill the gaps of television/radio/chatting
im gonna go take a leak ,