September 30, 2020 - Nour Abdul Reda

Morrisey has been singing to me for a few days now. And I’ve been loving it.

“I was looking for a job, and then I found a job, and heaven knows I’m miserable now”
Heaven knows I’m miserable now – The Smiths

Whaat? That’s not me. lol.

I mean The Smiths are lovey, but this song? It’s an anthem. And have you noticed Johnny Marr and his legend-ness with that guitar? No one can make a depressing song sound so happy like The Smiths do. It reminds me of someone-ehem, a happy tune with a depressing sense of things.

Those who know me know that I have been looking for a job like the one I am currently in for so long, and now that I found it, I feel miserable. However, with many therapy sessions- random shoutout to my therapist for his sense of humor- I have finally concluded that the job is not why I’m miserable. Still, life factors have made me miserable at a job I naturally should love.

I have not found the reason for my miserableness, which is why I miss the “happiness in the haze of drunken hour.” It was not always safe, but it was expected, and it did not expect much of me, and I’m not too fond of expectations.

“In my life, why do I smile at people who I’d much rather kick in the eye?”

Also thought to flag this.

Thanks, The Smiths, for making my confused heart cheery these few days. I awkwardly danced to this tune this morning while making tea, and I did not get caught—a plus for everybody.

I wish I live in a place that is quieter than here, like Tralee or Sighisoara, where even though they might have problems of their own, they don’t carry the weight of a country.

They don’t spend their days thinking of ways to feed the millions of hungry, or ways to protect themselves from the theft of traders and corruptions of politicians, or days of no electricity and water. They don’t carry a nation on their skinny backs as we do; they don’t count the coins in their pockets and hope they can pay for the eggs at breakfast. They don’t worry about traffic or roadblocks or motorcades and convoys passing by.

I was reading an article about the “corruption” of Sighisoara. The ex-director of the Prince of Wales Foundation is explaining how corrupt Sighisoara is because of a club operating illegally with “protection” near her house.

Whenever everything gets too much, I read that article, and it soothes me. A city’s biggest problem is a club that keeps the music loud until 4 am. There is something comforting about knowing that, even though no life is perfect and there are always obstacles anywhere, some problems are just smaller than others.

And this is what I dream of for Lebanon. I stopped dreaming of reform, or hope, or an ideal world where we have trains and social security for the elderly; I simply dream of lesser problems.

I dream of waking up in my debt-free apartment, having my morning walk on the cobblestone street, and seeing a neighbor not cleaning her dog’s litter. I dream of reporting my neighbor to the police station nearby and the police taking action instantly. The police would fine the lady for not preserving the cleanliness of my city.

I dream of having this as my only problem of the week. I tell it to all my friends on a Sunday brunch and an evening with family. I don’t dream of a Lebanon without any problems; I just dream of simpler ones.

I know I always romanticize Beirut, and I love it with all my heart, but I’m so tired. I’m so tired of all the weight Beirut throws at me. I am so fed with the dirtiness and the debris of it all; I just want a simple city.

I enjoy reading articles on Malta’s economy and Brasov’s restaurants, and the art festivals of Lodz. I thirst for this simplicity and these mini problems. I am so tired of this unapprehended chaos.

Day: September 30, 2020

Heaven knows I’m miserable now

Give me chaos

I wish I live in a place that is quieter than here, like Tralee or Sighisoara, where even though they might have problems of their own, they don’t carry the weight of a country.

Give me chaos, but chaos that I can understand.