Beirut simply exists

Another one of those insane explosions just went off. Black smoke is rising out of my inner city; Beirut. Beirut covered in thick intoxicating smoke. I am torn. Clinging to my memories of this vibrant city…to the heart of this indefinable country. The one that is being bombarded with insidious hate, creating a sinister din, a quiet that is unwelcome that is just not right. You see, this country thrives on chaos, on a rush that is addictive that impregnates the imagination with strange nuances and emotions and unleashes taste buds that you never knew existed. It inspires the unthinkable and it makes it real. It simply exists. The veins that lead to the heart of Lebanon, Beirut, have been brutally cut. The heart is, however, still beating, still seeking oxygen that has been dirtied, stained by this cruel bombardment of my country. My palpitations have been incessant, my anger persistent. I watch the biased news and feel outraged. I feel perforated, and people the world over chant “No war!” yet our voices are drowned by the brutal force of rockets and bombs. Our voices need to be louder and insistent. My heart beat is amplified, rising over this new quiet din, fighting this invasion with what Beirut has given me; inspiration and unquenchable hope.