A letter of peace

You are going to hate me for writing this but my jet lag has kept me up and gave me a taste of some of the nauseating posts and ignorant comments that the recent horrible events have rippled into my facebook feeds. Forgive me for puking a couple of extra thoughts into that disgusting pool of immature and vain finger-pointing that will get us nowhere.

To my friends in Paris, France, and the Western world, I send you my condolences and pray for your peace. You are free to mourn your people as you please, but comparing peoples' lives and tagging them with values as if some mattered more than others, is none of our business and it won't help us attain peace. Be kind to one another and pray for those who suffer today for you never know when this massive complex and unpredictable machinery we live in will turn against you one day and you will be in need of those who are safe and in position of helping you. Do not rush into blaming your government(s) for what happened and for taking the decisions they took for you have no idea what an alternative government you idealise would have done instead. On the contrary, be grateful for all the days of peace we have enjoyed until last week and thank the people putting their lives on the line to protect you. The safety we once knew in Paris has been a valuable commodity, but we had it at a certain price. If you and everyone were to be stopped and searched every hour at every public place or station then you might feel secure but not at peace. That would be ridiculous.

To my friends in Beirut, Lebanon and the neighbouring countries, I send you my condolences and pray for your peace. You have the right to be upset for not getting any media attention or social network coverage. However, think of it that way: Had it not been for Paris getting its coverage, Beirut would have never had the chance of making it to the headlines. I am proud of you for fighting for your rights an making yourself heard once opportunity rang your bell. However, now that your voice is heard and the world is all ears, be careful of what you wish for, of what you say and treat others with kindness. Beirut was Paris of the middle east and they certainly knew where it hurts the most when they hit us. Stay united, be grateful and join your sister, Paris, against terror.

To my friends all over the world, before pointing your fingers at a state, a government or a person, whether it is about your government not protecting you, or about a certain state of belief system threatening you, or about your friend putting a flag in support of a country and not another, or whether someone's comment mentioned some people in their prayers and forgot others, think of how this action will influence the zeitgeist and whether it will eventually buy you and the rest of us peace or not. We are all selfish and insecure to a certain extent, but don't let that hurt others for the sake of some personal security. Now is the time we put all this behind and focus on our more basic survival and existential security because it's at stake. Empathise! Spend time with the ones you love and you still have around you. Will you blame the government if they ever reach out to your family through internet and TV, if they convert your kids and brainwash them while you are busy taking sides and pointing fingers? That's what's happening! That's what has been happening and will keep happening unless you stop it!

I have lived in Lebanon during the war, in the US after 9/11 and I now live in Paris after having been expatriated for about 15 years. I cannot tell you how frustrating that is, especially now that I am close to acquiring a French citizenship (my application is being examined) and finally enjoying human rights that is really a matter of luck based on where you were born. That is heart-breaking, however, I am thankful that my family and friends are safe and that the local government is working hard to protect us and I shall do my best with arts and science, cinema and logic, words and prayers, your help and your imagination to make this nation a safer world. Of course, I will need your help! If you step outside your door and greet a stranger, you are helping me build this place! If you have more money, food or shelter than you need and you know that someone can make use of your kindness then you are helping me build that place. I have created several platforms to show and share this idea ALAgrApHY 1001 faces Pass a smile ... but I will need your help!

I hate getting involved in politics for it's a nasty business but think of who is the final benefiter from all our fights over the silliest and most worthless of things. I hope that my message will echo first and foremost in the minds and hearts of those with doubts about their current governments, those not knowing who to vote for during the elections or those who were just convinced by the current events to vote for an alternative government, those tempted to blame it on a religion or a political party, those unsure about their friends' behaviours on social networks, those who lost someone and those who have not... If you will not discover love, forgiveness and tolerance NOW, in those most tumultuous of times, then you shall never ever know it. Peace to all mankind!

‪#‎prayforparis‬ ‪#‎prayforbeirut‬ ‪#‎prayfortheworld‬ ‪#‎prayingisnotenough‬‪#‎smiletoeverystranger‬ ‪#‎freehugs‬ ‪#‎tellyourfamilyyoulovethem‬‪#‎callyourfriends‬

#Iamcharlie or #Iamnotcharlie, this is not the answer!

The past two days in Paris were nauseating. I tried to remain silent but that would only be in favor of violence and against the freedom of speech. I have mixed feelings. #Iamcharlie and #Iamnotcharlie, the former for the freedom of speech I have long fought for and the latter for the hatred it has provoked in the ignorant minds. I respect all religions although I practice none and I refuse to ever associate myself or others to an -ism for that is the work of a lazy mind. A guru does not come to you and tell you what book to read or what actions to do but will be sitting there waiting for you to come and ask questions. Wake up people! There is no religion, sexual orientation, skin color or hair style to blame for what happened with #charliehebdo and is still happening today. An eye for an eye and the world will become blind. Perhaps we are partially responsible for secluding some people from education and resources. Perhaps that is a wake up call for us to become more intuitive and think for ourselves. Perhaps this happened to shed some light on similar causes that might soon explode  #iamafrica #iamlebanon #iamtibet... Paris was called the "city of light" for it was home for enlightenment and revolutions. I trust that it shall remain so braving the darkness and enlightening the rest of the world. A #momentofsilence for the victims.

EDIT: Feel free to share this post or disagree with it if you articulate your arguments in a respectful and clear manner! Remember that silence is a form of nonexistence or support of the #zeitgeist .

Le NeoSpleen de Paris

I have yet to meet a person who has not suffered a major/minor depression after having lived two years in Paris! Paris, the city of love, promises to many way more than it can offer sometimes creating in individuals a delusional acute state known as the  Paris Syndrome. Japanese tourists, dreamers, cinephiles, wanderers are only few amongst many susceptible to the Paris Syndrome. However, people that are destined to Paris for more than a couple of years experience the city and its people differently. At the beginning, Paris' inhabitants may experience an overwhelming child-like appreciation of the beauty of every street, cafe, or park, sometimes to the point of experiencing a Stendhal Syndrome. With time, however, this beauty fades as we cement our images of Paris,  even of the Paris we have not explored. We assume many places are reincarnations of others and we are so convinced that our perception is biased to prove our intuition right regardless of what new places might offer. This slowly leads to anhedonia, the loss of pleasure, and perhaps existentially and morally towards nihilism.  And based on our genetic and environmental predisposition to depression, this eventually leads to mild and long depressions, such as dysthima or major acute depressions that are all vicious and bottomless circles that are only curable with enough will power and support from family and friends. I shall call this last phase "le mal de Paris" which hints to Baudelair's "fleurs de mal" and almost every poet's and artist's "mal de vivre" althought perhaps I could just update Baudelair's "Spleen de Paris" by calling it  "le NeoSpleen de Paris" such that it accommodates a century of human progress or regress.

Le NeoSpleen de Paris, is contagious! You might get it in the metro when nobody is smiling, not even musicians as they play or kids as they don't. You might get it on the streets whether from the homeless beggars or from fellow inhabitants that have so much convinced themselves of being busy to avoid the void, or you might as well get it in restaurants when your waiter does not expect to be tipped or rewarded and has been already suffering that NeoSpleen for years!

It is only after the second year that you become aware of the NeoSpleen epidemic and the options to cure it are expensive and limited:

- You are suddenly convincing yourself that alcohol/drugs are inevitable to calm you and many of your alcoholic/drug-addict "friends".
- Your friends have talked you into medication for depression or seeing a shrink
- You decide that Paris is not for you and pack your bags and try to settle elsewhere
- You spend the money you would have spent on alcohol, drugs, medication, or shrinks, traveling back and forth to always see Paris as a child sees candy, and I am talking about forbidden and rare candy!

I am guessing you have already made up your mind. If you happen to have chosen the last one, I might see you tomorrow in RIO de JANEIRO!

 

The reason behind my dis-contempt

I woke up early this morning feeling a certain emptiness that neither friends nor family can fill. I looked around my studio and thought of the mediocrity of its spaciousness. I thought I should either move into a bigger space which can accommodate and entertain a larger potential or trim down the space and in turn my expectations therefrom. On a similar note, I questioned the extramural city size and concluded similarly. I should either keep striving for a quixotic stability in Paris or accept to dull my life elsewhere. In a previous post, I had compared people to places, hence, analogously, I can keep striving for Mrs. Right++ quixotically or give in to a Mrs. Smith (or Madame Dupont) and settle accordingly. The dis-contempt arises neither from choice A nor from choice B but from the very indecision and tentative instability.  

 

Je suis cette chanson

Je suis un juif espagnol, je suis un grec armenien, je suis un juif arabe, je suis un creole francais, je suis un noir italien...je suis cette chanson. Je suis un etranger a Paris.

je suis cette chanson. Imaginez si on me la chante au metro de Paris en plus.

a la fille du metro et les filles d'ailleur

on s'est vu il y a exactement une semaine dans le metro, ligne 6. Rappelle-toi comment nos mains se sont aprochees subtilement l'une vers l'autre et on s'est touche, ni vu ni connu. Je m'attendais de te voir tous les jours apres mais tu n'es plus venue. Je m'attends de te voir toutes les semaines apres mais aujourd'hui t\y n'etais point. Je m'attendrai de te voir tous les mois, sinon, les ans et les decades qui feront parte de ma vie et la tienne aussi. Avec le temps on oublie le visage mais non pas les plus chouettes rencontres.

"Tu es aveugle. Je suis sourd-muet. Que ta main touche la mienne et que la communication soit". -- Gibran Khalil

Aujourd'hui j'ai envie de disparaitre, de m'enfuir, d'epanouir si cela n'est pas deja le cas. Essaie de me joindre telephoniquement et tu verras que je suis absent, essaie de m'envoyer un mel avec quelques mots et tu verras qu'ils seront perdus dans le neant de l'infosphere, essaie de me trouver en personne et si t'y arrives jamais, dis-moi ou je suis.

Bureaucracy and shitocracy

Bureaucracy in France has reached a surreal state that is laughably beyond being deplorable and the very term begs for being redefined urgently. I really have no other choice than to visit the 100th bureau office) for the 1000th signature, that unless signed carefully within the barely visible inner green signature borders, my submission will be re-rejected.

I enter every bureau with all my forms and proofs of existence but with great hesitance declaring: ca fait une semaine que j'essaie... or ca fait 3 semaines que je cherche...

one of the most mysterious forms is a birth certificate which cerifies nothing more than being born in a certain hospital somewhere. I wonder how could a being come to existance if not ever born with the putative exception of being Jesus Christ. All cerificates must be translated to French and signed separately with photos, stamps, signatures and all unreasonable hassles.

one other ridiculous form is required from my GP to prove that I have no physical or medical issues that impede me from dancing Tango. I see it takes two to Tango even before one Tangoes.

Entre Paris et le Ch'nord

Il n'y a pas un mois, j'étais a paris a la recherche de logement, de paix et de liberté. C'était ma 3eme visite a Paris sauf que cette dernière fois c'était pour un postdoc que a paris 6 et a l'hôpital de la pitié-salpêtrière que je revenais avec beaucoup d'hésitation. Par contre, les deux première fois, c'était par curiosité ou par hasard mais jamais par désir.  J'étais dégoûté avant que la première semaine finisse, je me balader entre les auberges de jeunesse pour ne pas dépenser ce qui restait de ma fortune.

Il y a 3 ans, je suis venu a paris et j'ai présenté un ami français d'indiana qui m'hébergeait, a une amie parisienne que je connaissais des EU. Trois ans sont passes et Nicolas et Eve sont toujours ensemble. Leur co-existence me rappelle toujours de quel drôle de cupide solitaire j'étais, je suis et sans doute je serai toujours.

Il y a quelques jeudis, j'ai écrit a Nicolas en lui disant que j'étais sur paris. En suite, il me répond en m'invitant chez lui au nord, entre calais et boulogne. J'attendais n'importe quelle excuse pour quitter paris. Sa maison sur mer donne l'impression d'être dans un bateau pas loin du matelot et d'un fort visible de toutes les fenêtres. On était 8, 3 couples et deux mecs. Au moins un de ces couples est grâce a un des mecs! A part les jeux sociaux, les jolies promenades, les bons barbecues et les Welch traditionnelles aux restos, on est allé cueillir les moules, les nettoyer et les cuisiner. 10 kilos de moules excessivement bonnes pour 7 personnes peut facilement résumer le nord pour moi et avec le vin blanc j'hallucinais! J'hallucinais!

Les moules sur les rochers au nord