Cracked mirrors. We are to blame.

Welcome to a bizarre world. Welcome 2020. The vision has worn off. Our tinted glasses were simply confiscated. It seems to be the beginning. Last year, this past decade, these past six months. Does it matter? Not really. As I sit here writing comfortably under a roof with a balcony, jazz firing up from up…

A mark on solitude.

I stand on the brink…..   The rest of the sentence does not matter. What matters is where I am. What am I? This year marks a very weird year. And we all have something to learn. (Yes, we are only halfway there.) Be pro-active, everyone says. Unfortunately, it’s harder done than said. What is…

Deep down ……. a signal please.

Give me a signal so I can stop And ponder What I know I lost. What I am losing. Tell me                what am I? what will I be? what was I? I can’t remember Don’t let me go back Because what is the point? Give me a signal so I know what can happen, what…

Reactional thoughts on a skewered education system

So so much is wrong with this mentality around the SAT and the ACT. The only reason universities have used it as a criteria for applications is because there’s a lack of coherent education policy in the country. Yes, it’s true; no high school is created equal compared to other high schools. One town and…

Treatise on the world – post quarantine.

We all woke up from a daze. But not the governments. They think they did a good job. They did not. Déconfinement. Comment? People out in the streets without masks. Majority. People listening to the doctors’ recommendations. A stark minority. We are once again sheep. We have always been sheep. And there are two types…

reactional thoughts to thoughts on the racial contract

“But Barnhill’s leniency is selective—as The Appeal’s Josie Duffy Rice notes, Barnhill attempted to prosecute Olivia Pearson, a black woman, for helping another black voter use an electronic voting machine. A crime does not occur when white men stalk and kill a black stranger. A crime does occur when black people vote.” This is the…

first thoughts on a revolution

The first night Nighttime hippies, hip, old school styles. All red. All green. All white. All cardboard “Solidarity”, waving flags. I’ve never felt at home anywhere really. Maybe sometimes. But this night was a dream. It was home. Tartines au zaatar. 1 lookoom per person. 1 famous singer of our very own rock alternative band….

Book review : L’Appartement témoin

Imaginons un homme. Imaginons un fantôme. Imaginons un esprit. Les rêves sont réelles. C’est ce que l’on nous dits, enfants. Mais est-ce vraiment le cas? J’ai lu L’Appartement Témoin, ce premier livre signé Tatiana de Rosnay. Publié en 1992, cela raconte l’histoire d’un homme, divorcé, perdu, et nouvellement emménagé dans son propre appartement. Le rêve?…

Toi, ce chemin, et moi.

Une image s’élève de toi. Bien grande, bien lointaine. Je me sens …. ……… ……… loin. pas à côté. à côté de la plaque. mais pas trop. Ce chemin, j’ai cru le prendre mille fois. Et pourtant. Pourtant. Je ne l’ai jamais emprunté. #Longlost #wandering #somewherenew

Of bookshops, and plans.

In original bookshops,  very interesting finds you’ll get. My favorite is a Mossad security history book, of which I can’t remember the name, in a Jewish bookshop off in the Marais.. Then again, what about those conflict analyses and terrorism books in the Shakespeare and Co? (Yes, THAT bookshop in Paris).. Or the record stores,…