Beirut on August 21, 2006

i woke up at 4 in the morning; i could hear the planes over my head. they were humming so high i couldn't take them off my mind. except no planes were above beirut tonight. there was no humming. but i could not convince myself otherwise, i could not convince myself it was a fabrication of my tired mind or at least that it was the sound of the AC. i had to drag myself to the balcony half asleep to prove to myself there were no planes. am going nuts; probably symptoms of a post-traumatic stress disorder. i hear it everywhere. but yesterday felt real. i could hear them, expecting to hear the deadly brooaaaggghhhhmmm afterwards. but, thank god, it never came.
how long will i/we live like that?
how long will we live waiting and expecting?

i've been really tired for two days. am starting to feel myself slipping into oblivion, or to be less dramatic, my depressive state.

my mother's story today of hearing the planes while shopping for groceries in our neighborhood does not help; i won't be able to drown that feeling soon...

am tired.

———
yesterday, i went back to one of the lighter routines of living in beirut—the Social's ciné club.
it wasn't bad. i was a bit disappointed, i had been waiting to c that movie for so long...
but it was good. i liked the atmosphere it created.

———
there was a guy i barely know talking yesterday to meemee, he was telling her how hard it was for him to live the experience, fully and humbly admitting he coud not watch tv, see images, or even take photos (he is a photographer), he couldn't. he just had to shun it away. he couldn't handle it. it was too much.

and he reminded me of a conversation i had with nineyeh during the hostilities, i was feeling bad to say it, but i was being honest with myself at least. i couldn't go help other people. it was not from a lack of empathy, believe me. but i just couldn't. i did not have the strength in me to go see these people, and attend to their needs. i have never been a friend to charity, i don't really like it. i find it condescending. a lot would disagree, and would name me —and it's probably true—selfish and scared. but i couldn't. and i still can't. it just is not in me. not evb is build the same way. not evb deals with the same events in the same way.
i would go clean, and i would go build, i would go help in the fields. make me work and make me sweat. it would not be charity, it would be action and survival. it would be fighting the aggression. it would be standing against the oppression.