I decided this should be the title of my new post without really knowing what exactly I will be saying here. The situation is way beyond me now. I will not try to tell you that we have all gotten used to this, even though it is true, we have. But part of us, that part of us which is regretfully still alive and striving for life, that part of us wants to leave, to leave everything and leave.

My defense date is in a few days, my graduation is pushed till summer since I will be graduating in fall. I have started learning a new language which I hope will be complemented with me leaning into a new culture. I have picked up a few freelance jobs. I will be attending a writing workshop soon. I am working on my blog, regardless if I am successful or not. I enjoy my time alone, my endless cups of coffee and my invisible conversations. In other words, I am at peace with the world I have carefully created for myself. In yet simpler words, I will not tolerate stray bullets. But that decision was never in my hands, in any of our hands for that matter.

So now, each one on his/her own, will sit and wonder whether a war will break out soon or not. Some want to get it over with, others want revenge, while others believe that if things don’t get worse, they will never get better.

But I don’t care what they say or what they believe. For once, I have a confession to make, a not so patriotic one even.

Beirut has nothing to do with it, will never have anything to be with. Because I realized something. Beirut does not exist. We all have a different view about our city, we all made her up inside our head. That is why they call us a schizophrenic culture. Believe me or not. Agree with or not.

I will always love the image I have of Beirut, the one I created. I will always love the self which created, myself in it. But I will always hate what everyone has done to it, how everyone has torn its dress to shreds and raped its body over and over again. I will not lament for no one is innocent. But one thing is for certain, I hate this country and can’t wait to leave.

I want to leave, so that the Beirut I have created inside me lives on.

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