Archive for the ‘Writings’ Category


That summer,we left the beach,after a perfect day,rolling in the sand,diving in the healing blue/green water.Your skin was perfectly tanned,we were young back then,young and carefree.We were young and wild.We were perfect,and we were in love.


We were living the day,refusing to grow up to be like our parents,we wanted to change the world.What i felt for you was more than love.
You stood there on the hill,the sun was dawning and burning with every shade of red and yellow,you stood there,and i could see your shadow,and that moment….that image never left my mind…..


Your shadow,your perfect body lines,shining with the reflection of the fading orange sun behind you,your hair flying with the soft summer breeze,your transparent white shirt showing shades of the skin i often kissed.
We never thought we’d grow up,we’d be lost somewhere in the ugliness of the duties of grown up lives,and conformity……..

I never knew we’d someday be total strangers,never knowing about one another’s life.

It seems like hundreds of years ago.

That moment…………..
I hugged you hard,and smelled the aromas of your vanilla hair,your amber skin,and i could taste the salty sweet taste of your lips,the elixir of life.
I looked in your honey eyes,disturbed by the momentary intrusion of your ember hair,and I could still smell the Neroli in your perfume,and detect some sadness in them eyes……..where you aware that someday we’ll be million words away from each others,killing moments like this one…….

How did we kill moments like these?

How cruel can we be killing real life for decency and conformity…..
That summer,it kills me to know it was just a dream a cruel dream,and you where only an illusion light years ago……………



The morning came.The terrible noise of weapons stopped.The fighters needed a rest from their all night fighting.They were fighting a secret enemy.An enemy in the form of a child from Jabal Mohsen who is responsible for the Iranian Nuclear Threat or a mother from Tabbeneh who is plotting to destroy the Assad regime in a dirty plot with the Israelis.


The fighters are humans too,they need rest,they need sleep for at night they are busy doing Godly chores they are destined to.

Isn’t that what they were raised to believe?Isn’t that what the undereducated Sheikh told them in the Mosques?

The fighter from Tabbeneh knows well his mission that is to extract Refaat Eid* from the area,for Eid is the bastard son of Nasrallah* and his target is to exterminate Sunna and transform Tripoli into an Alawite stronghold opening the path  for Shia expansion

The fighter from Jabal Mohsen is defending his pace from the beard sporting Israeli terrorists.He knows well that the word “Takbir”* is a Hebrew word meaning destroy the Alawites.

The President woke up early,took his daily shower and wore the dove grey suit and navy blue tie his wife chose for him.He’s got meetings to attend,a lunch with a foreign diplomat and the elections to get through with.The elections are driving him crazy and his erection too.He hasn’t got one in a while even with help of the blue pill,but who needs an erection when you’ve got power.Power will give any woman multiple orgasm.

His wife stood on her toes to kiss his chin while he gives her his lovely winner smile.

What about Tripoli she asks???

Tripoli???What about Tripoli???Isn’t that in Libya????

He brushes the idea away and heads to his office.

Prime Minister Mikati wakes up obsessed with the idea of getting  hair implant and growing a beard because that’s so “a la mode” in Tripoli nowadays will get him more voters for the next election.

He phones his underdog Saad Al Masri proposing to send more money,more weapons for the sake of his “Middle-ness”.You know,no one should win  or have the upper-hand in the fights in the fights or his “Middle-ness” will be destroyed and he will lose more voters.

Mp Abou L Abed Kabbara didn’t have a second of sleep that night.His bastard sons are leaving him,they are refusing to obey him anymore.It’s crazy he’ll lose his powers and wont be able to help all the imprisoned Sunna.

He calls Brigardier Hammoud *and shouts to him:DO SOMETHINGGGGG.

His voice wakes Mostapha Allouch* from his ex communism sleep and reminds him to wash his Whiskey breath  for he’s got a meeting today with a bunch of Sheikhs that will lead him to the righteous path.

The stilness of the morning after disturbs Mp Ahdab sleep.He yawns a Tom Ford breath and feels the urge to use the bathroom.He gets out of bed,he was sleeping with Ahmad Al Assir in the chat room.He washes his perfect botoxed face  and smiles gold to the mirror.He finishes shitting flowers,heads to the balcony to salute the army of women fantasizing about him.

Refaat Eid* is having a greasy breakfast ,he already ate three roasted Tabbeneh fighters.Those filthy bearded terrorists .Today he’ll focus his hunt on younger flesh for it’s more lean.He hits the table with his fist and shouts to his men to go kill some terrorists

One of his men replies that it’s still morning and the fighters are still sleeping.Oh Eid replies then I’m going back to sleep too.Tonight we have some filthy terrorists to kill.

Most of the peaceful Tripolitain citizen didn’t sleep at night disturbed by the weapons noise.They spent their night pleading and praying to God to save the city.Quoting prayers from Quran on their facebook account,cursing their opponents.

They know that one day their God will listen,but till that day comes God is busy preparing for the Champions League,the World Cup and how Angelina Jolie’s boobs removal are a loss to humanity.

He shakes his head,munches on his caramel Pop Corn that he washes with a gulp of Ginger Ale.

The Civil Society knows well how to stop the fightings.They organize a demonstration in front of a fancy restaurant.There’s a lovely lady running for election participating ,wearing her Chanel costume and her Jaques Dessange bleached hair.She’s gonna push all the others to be in front of the TV camera.After all her Chanel Costume cost her a small fortune and it’s the first time she wears it.No one would dare to stop her from being the highlight of the demonstration.Not even that white haired short power monger.Image

Whatshe didn’t expect is that other members of the civil society objected Chanel cloth and voted for Dior and maybe the newly renewed Saint Laurent so they demonstrated at the same time elsewhere

The Chanel Lady went apeshit in front of the camera and while she was watching herslef on the night news bulletin she cried in shame noticing that in her rush she wore the wrong color of lipstick.

While everyone was busty preparing their chores for the next round of fightsat night,they didn’t notice the disappearance of Alice.

No one bothered looking for heror shouting her name.

Alice died alone on a dark alley by a stray bullet,on her way to get her sick mother some medicines.

“None wrote home,

no bulletins were issued of their progress,

which he the demon,

thought that he could block

with barricades of gold and purple tin foil labeled Fear

and other august titles which they took in their stride,

leapt over lightly,

always tossing backwards calls of gladness,

that echoed behind them long after they leapt

and were gone.”

(In Jack-O’-Lantern’s Weather,Tennessee Williams)

A couple of hours before sunset on this  spring day,my friends called to tell me they’re  in Tripoli’s Book Fair  in Tripoli’s Rachid Karame International Fair,a tradition happening every in April/May of the year.

It’s been years I stopped visiting the Book Fair for it was more of a popular market where you can find everything from cloths to handcrafts than books and the few books exposed were of no interest to me.

I entered the beautiful Rachid Karame Fair (designed and built by the unique Oscar Neimeyer) and parked my car in the huge parking space and stepped to meet my friends in the Fair garden next to the Dome.

I didn’t visit the exhibition area for I already knew what could be in there and it saddened me.Lots of visitors were coming and going ,none of them I knew,a proof  of the demographical change that happened to Tripoli the past few years with the expansion of the reserved Islamic tide.It was really shocking to see that huge number of veiled women and bearded men with Jellabiya,thing you never saw in the past and it made you feel like an outcast in your own hometown.

I arrived to the green area of wonderful gardens next to the Dome,where I found my friends sitting on a bench surrounded by trees and flowers making fun of this veiled girl with an ass showing tight jeans being photographed hugging a tree in a very lustful way.

While we were chatting I noticed a noise,the sound of hard wheels scratching on the concrete . I turned around and saw a bunch of kids skating on a huge concrete  platform with a big cement slide.Image

I walked towards them to watch their moves since I was fascinated by this urban sport and asked if I’m not bothering by watching them.Two of the kids greeted me with a skeptic look as I was almost their father’s age.Another kid the youngest I guess greeted me in a very warm way as if we knew each others before,his face was familiar.I remembered seeing him on daily basis skating next to my house.A fourth one popped in front of me,a kid with long messy hair,sparkling eyes and a wide smile and asked me about a common relative,I remembered him from the facebook group “Skateboarding Ministers Of Tripoli” and how he (his name is Mustapha) initiated me to the band “The Gaslight Anthem” when he posted “I’d Call You Woody Joe” a song as fast as gnarly as the skateboarding process,a song the played on my Ipod for a long time.

ImageMustapha and I started a small chat while the other kids were going on about their skating.He was everything Tripoli needed to be.He was full of energy,positive,fresh,full of life and  clever.We talked about music and we shared the same interest in Punk Rock,in “Black Flag” and he asked me about my “Motorhead” T-Shirt.

The guys were happy that an adult was talking to them about their favorite hobby.They knew that I was responsible for bringing a skateboarding arena to Tripoli last year during Tripoli’s Carfree Day.They trusted me and treated me as an ally,as other adults usually bothered by their gathering and skating in the streets of the city,chased them and treated them like a mere disturbance.

Most of them listened to Rock except one who was a Hip Hop fan,but what bond them in Skateboarding was stronger than these small differences.They told me they were real inseparable friends,a family.Friends in schools that were forced to them meant nothing next to this small family.Through their differences they were one.Nothing can beat their skating gathering where they share the adrenalin rush of this game of speed and  risk and escapes from the cops or bitter adults that don’t understand the beauty of that freedom.

They felt trapped in  this city where no spaces were provided for them to practice their sport ,where conventional adults and young adults didn’t understand their love to fly on a board,to own the streets with a board and a wheel,to speed among the lazy ass boring citizen,to ollie,boardslide or even boneless,how to become the future Tony Hawks.Image

The flashy and aggressive colors  of their skateboards,their youth and freshness,their freedom and unconventionality is the total contradiction to the grayness,the staleness,the bigotry and ugliness of the city.

My young homies,don’t worry,don’t grow old.Skate through life with your integrity,your youth,your freedom.Never care about our rules and regulations they are a trap,they are our misery and fear.

Keep shining through the streets of our city,for what you are doing is a challenge to the Demon that’s devouring  it.Image

*this here is a link to a blog post written about my friend Mahmoud Ghezzayyel about the same Book Fair mentioned above:

Few years ago,on a Sunday in a warm spring day,the first of April…..I was waiting in this hospital hallway for your arrival in our lives,and i waited and waited and waited…till someone told me you were finally here,in a certain room and i rushed to meet you for the first time.
The first thing i saw when i laid my eyes on you,was you….the tiny being that i already adored before i met.You were smiling at me,playing with your tiny hands.
My heart skipped a beat and i couldn’t believe my eyes.I was told that i was crying at that time.
Oh my son how i love you.
It was warm,and i went out to get some coffee from a Starbucks nearby,the air was smooth,caressing my face,the sweet spring breeze,i was happy and proud.I had you here.

I watched you grow day by day,your presence filled my life,light up my days.You were the most precious thing in my life,and i knew my life has changed,that it had a meaning,and that it doesn’t belong to only me anymore,it was yours too.
Our house was filled with Angels serenading you and your lovely smile.Everything felt,smelled and tasted better.I always cherished this invisible bond that tied us together,that passes through my blood to my heart.
I’ll never forget our father and son strolls through the city streets.The music we used to rock on(Sum 41 was your favorite band at one year old).This time was grand.

And just around your second birthday,something happened to me.Something hit me hard and tore me apart.I was gloomy and i wanted to die,not wanting to go out,not wanting to see people or to go to work.The bad Karma had found its way to me.Everything was gray around me.
But my boy you were my only solace.The only good time was with you.I kept myself around and close to you and your mum, afraid to be away from you, afraid to lose you.I Couldn’t sleep,couldn’t eat, afraid of the unknown,feeling my life getting destroyed,and that i couldn’t be the father and husband i always dreamed I’d be.I was losing.
And your mum was slipping away from me,bailing out on me,but i refused to believe that her looks,her words,the coldness of her touch were bound to destroy me.I knew i was losing her.
But i never wanted to lose you,i hung around you,i had to be strong for you,and your smile gave me faith.God you were so small.
I stayed with you in the blue room of our then family home,playing with you,singing with you,watching cartoon with you.You gave me hope but this tiny blue room was choking me
And just when i was at my weakest,everything chattered around me.And it killed me.You weren’t supposed to pay the price of our mistakes,our weaknesses and our selfishness.We hadn’t the right to do this to you.We are cruel,we are blind,we are selfish.
I tried my best to make it work for you,for your sake,and for your smile to keep lingering.Nothing worked,your mum had her mind made up,and nothing could change that.She decided to go fly in her own sky.
I was left with only one choice,the hardest choice i had to take in my entire life.
It was inevitable.
It pained me a lot to have you go through this.But then i knew i could do nothing to change the situation,there was only one thing left to do.I had to be strong and to get back on my feet for you.You needed me and i had to be the best father i can be.
And there you were,next to me to help me cope,to be strong.You were my son,my friend,my everything.
Most of the times i stayed home reading,fixated on Douglas Coupland books,and thinking about you,about everything,waiting for the daily few hours i spent with you.And those daily hours where all I wanted to get by,to help me cope.Your smile was my energy.I was bonding with you.And your company was heaven to me.Precious times. Wonderful times.
I know the separation between your mom and me affected you and saddened you.You always tried in your tiny voice and scrambled words to involve us(you,your mum and me) in all your conversations.
Most of the times while you where far from me,I ached for you,your voice and your singsongs echoed in my ears and i so wanted to reach for you,and i couldn’t get my message to you so i let it hang in the air,it was bound to get to you somehow.
I still remember that day while we were passing by the deserted house that we used to live in as a family,haunted by the ghost of a once to be family”Oh papa how beautiful is RayO and mama and papa’s house,how beautiful”.I couldn’t stop myself from crying.Life can be so cruel,people so selfish.Oh the prices we have to pay.And while i was crying you touched my face and told me “poor papa my love my papa to me”and I cried even harder.I couldn’t sleep that night.
My love,my RayO,my all i know well that we took away your family from you,and we are guilty to that,but you know that you have your mum that loves you and that’ll do anything for you,and you have your dad who’ll move mountains for you,who’ll pay his life to see you smile,who you can count on anytime.
And now you’re back to your “RayO’s beautiful house ” with your mum,and i couldn’t be happier for you and i want you to know that i’m always with you in this house,visiting you at night to kiss you goodnight,and watch over your sleep,wake up to your giggles .Watching you play and grow.I’ll be invisible,but be sure i’ll be there.You’ll feel me in every breeze,you’ll hear me in every music,you’ll sit in what used to be my place and smell my morning black coffee.And you’ll know for sure i’ll never fail you.I love you a love that is very special and precious,you’ll know I’ll always be there for you,that i’ll be your guardian angel wherever you go.
My voice will echo in your house,in your school,everywhere you go.And your voice,and when you say papa is cemented in my ears.
Your are growing up amazingly my loveImage.

I never believed I’d live to be blessed to see my angel on earth.You’re my angel.Your smile,your bright sparkling eyes,your smell,your cheeks,your hair…….You are heaven sent,my little angel,my little masterpiece.