Broken Sentences - 1

Thursday, June 4, 2009 at 5:41pm

Is facebook, twitter, myspace, and social networking media shaping the way we think these days?
I find myself during the day lighting up the lamp in my head and telling myself, "This is a good status for Facebook some day". "This has to go on xyz". " I definitely MUST tweet this".

Ras Al Abed (yeah I know its a racist name but this is its name) and Fairouz, are the only things that can unite the Lebanese people. I suggest we utilize them both to restore the broken ties between people.

Election Season.
The expats are going to Lebanon - free tickets.
The people of Akkar and Baalbek (and other areas also) are going places inside Lebanon - free buses - free sandwiches - free laban ayran - free pepsi cans.
Meanwhile, my mind is going coocoo (for free of course), and the whole thing makes me think, please God fast forward the day of judgement. This farce has to stop.

Oh, wait a minute. I am re-thinking the above statement.
Those who don't go on these free "mashaweer", they do that out of what used to be called "principles" or a "Matter of conscience". These terms are now extinct, and you get laughed at if you can really spell them properly. Get lost Niam. Seriously. What year do you live in? duh.

I am still trying to find a reason for why did the Lebanese Civil War happen altogether. If anybody has a clue please let me know. If your answer is Israel or the Palestinians please say it without much elaboration. I now know the cliches.

Sometimes I think again of Naher El Bared. On these second thoughts, everything is blurred. Did this camp exist? What took me up there? Why did I fall in love with a doomed place? Maybe it vanished because I loved it. I should never ever love a person or a place or anything again. They often tend to disappear.

This woman, whose name I forgot, was overrun by a car in downtown Beirut. Her son and daughter disappeared during the war. They are probably dead, and -hopefully- buried somewhere. She had been staying downtown to call the attention of the authorities to find her children. I am not into politics at all, but sometimes I wonder why does none of our big mouthed courageous *** (insert correct word in brackets) politicians ever ask about her kids? And why do none of the free mashaweer people ever think of these mothers and fathers and kids before they board their free mashaweer vehicles?

When May delivered her baby, the women cried. All of them. I even cast a tear or two. But I saved them knowing I will shed them later at the right moment. The AUH is a very horrible place for me to be at. Even for a lovely occasion like witnessing the birth of my neice. But this time I was thinking about Mommy. IF the AUH for ME is a horrible place, how horrible can it be for Mom? Whoever knows knows and whoever doesn't doesn't. When May was taken away from us to the operating room, I thought; how does it feel when the child is taken away from the mother. And does DEATH flash in her eyes when her child is taken away? The child may not ever come out alive from this room.
How did it feel when I was taken in to that room when I was just a kid? And how did it feel when Bayan went in when she was an infant? And how did it feel when a child was gone forever in a room in that place before that?