Day: November 9, 2021

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The predator

A poem to a predator

You who lurk into a girl’s soul and abuse it

How could you?

How could you lay a finger unwanted? A kiss undesired? A glimpse unallowed?

You who thought, so narcissistically, to feed your disgusting desire with the pain of a girl

How could you?

How could you hear her groan as you lay a finger in a place unwanted and think it is thirst?

How could you kiss her? How could you allow your chapped pale lips to smudge the holiness of hers?

How could you touch her skin and leave her body burning for eternity?

How could you consent yourself inside her, treat your lust as superior and her as a weakling,

How could you see the tear go down her face and still roll your eyes in pleasure?

No, she did not invite you in. She did not lead you on. She did not lure you to her.

She could be standing before you;

Naked from head to toe;

Swirling her feet;

Biting her lips;

Chewing her hair;

Pole dancing;

With a bottle of Absinthe;

Mouthing unholy slurs;

And if she says no to you,

You do not so much as look at her with crave.

Who are you, the unbeing of beings

To kill a child, a girl, a woman,

To watch a child, a girl, a woman,

Choke in fear

In depression

In tear

Because of a hand

An abnormally ugly hand

You used to ruin her

To ruin any effort of survival

To ruin any chance of a haven

No, it is not just a word,

A touch,

A finger,

A hand,

A kiss,

A sniff,

A look,

A one-time,

A one person,

A photograph,

No it is not just a thing,

It is throwing her off a plane

And expecting her to land on her feet and continue walking.

See, your nasty innuendos, you throwing her off a plane, will not kill her

She will land on the ground, with broken feet, a damaged memory

A disabled kidney

A mutilated skin

A chronic headache

A sob that refuses to cease

A pain that the demons cannot bear

She will live her life with all these diseases, illnesses,

Mental, physical, and social imbalance

Look at other people and wonder why

She was not lucky enough to live a normal life

To smile like the other girls

To play with no fear

To feel anything but desperate

And shame

And embarrassment

And blame

And dirty

Only because

You chose to lay a finger in a place you should not have.

How could you?

Inspired by a Norwegian play my wholesome friend and I watched until 3am, on my last night in Dubai
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Back to the homes

Ola amigos, Como Estas? I’ve missed you.

I am currently writing on my flight back to Beirut from Dubai, after nine days of getting out, escaping, exploring what it is like to be in a place where all fundamental rights are given abruptly, where menstrual pads are offered in bathrooms and where my male friend can go out wearing black nail polish and be admired for it.

It is not that I like Dubai more or that I am praising it despite the transparent fragility of artificialities and faux pas; it’s just that we all deserve an equal chance to live with less stress and more social freedom. It is okay to be discrete and diverse and have people not know your name or where you come from. It is nice to be free.

I love how vibrant and social Beirut is; I do. You know how much I am very much in love with Beirut, you all know that, but Beirut refuses to give us an open window to breathe, to get out of its people and colors and insanely social occasions and obligations and the must trys and the frowned upons. It is indeed an exotic city and, at the same time, so conservative, and its existential crisis is driving my own existential crises down the abyss.

It was my birthday last Monday, November 1st, and it rained in Beirut, like every year-I like to call this God’s birthday gift, and I wasn’t there to celebrate my rain. I was soaking under the desert sun, buying Afghan bread, and observing cultures lurk through the bustling streets. It was hot, but instead of my usual agitation and sun loathe, I did not mind a little sweat in return for mere coexistence.

I want to tell you all about it, and I have a feeling I won’t because I don’t know why I always avoid writing about significant things that happen – maybe because I feel too much and I always avoid writing about the big things because they require a lot of energy and I am a sulker at best and a sloth at worst. (:

I might not tell you about the whole trip here, but you can ask me whenever and we can talk about it over coffee. What I will for sure be telling you about is the incredibly aching play I watched on my last night because I cannot stop thinking about it – so alluring and painful that I have been thinking about the play all day.

For now, I am listening to Amy Winehouse and thinking a lot about her these few days for different reasons, and I skipped the airplane meal because it is so inedible yet devoured on the coffee – who knew airplane coffee could be this good? I just finished the fourth episode of the second season of You, and I am thinking a lot about all the victims of sexual harassment who watch their lives burn before their eyes from a touch unwanted.

It is unfair, unjust, and crucial that most women experience, one way or another, sexual harassment. I have no words and will never fathom why a person would ever think he has the right to abuse another.

My airplane is starting to land, adios mis amores for now.

<3