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Haveil Havalim
The Stench Of Desperation
There's a Stench flowing over Beirut right now.
In amidst the hussle and bustle,
of normal people trying to get to work.
Some choosing to observe the Strike called by Hezbollah.
Most wanting simply to get on with life.
There's bills to pay,
food needed for the table, rent to pay.
The Stench is peculiar.
It's not something that has
recently ' just gone off',
its something that has beennoticeable for a very long time.
But recently its getting worse.
What's unusual is the stench seems to be carried from a wind emanating from Damascus across the border to Beirut, possibly even from Tehran, its carried across the mountains and along the coast of Lebanon.
Yet the stench is not at all apparent in Damascus, no one smells it, in fact people are vigorously denying its existence.
Yet the stench that plagues Beirut continues carried by an North Westerly breeze across the frontier from Damascus it swirls around certain Neighborhoods of Beirut
stronger than else where.
It Is the Stench of Desperation.
The smell has become so bad that many people are busy working away, trying to deny its existence.
That's the thing about bad smells.
No matter how hard you try to mask them,
once they have been smelt,
no matter how much cleaning is done they linger,
seemingly at the time, forever reminding you of their history and causes.
Sometimes,
you revisit a seldom visited place and the smell of something unusual will set of deeply repressed memory that you had either tried to suppress or through pain had forgotten.
Other times,
the smells recall pleasant experiences,
summer nights along a boulevard,
salt flickering through the sea air,
the smell of many restaurants hustling and bustling, people tooing and froing.
People seem to emit certain smells
when they laugh, they intermingle with fine perfumes, and expensive after shaves reserved for special occasions.
The atmosphere is thick with feelings of happiness and good fortune.
That was the smell of freedom,
of good times, of choices.
These smells are gone.
All that exist in much of Beirut is a stench.
A stench of Desperation.
A stench of Corruption. A stench of political interference.
A stench of vested self interests.
Like the smell of cheap
perfume that fills a hotel
when its too late at night,
it permeates and attaches to things,
creating associations, thoughts, feelings,
memories which all lead to
the thought of wishing
there was some thing better.
Nasrallah thinks deodorant
will mask his desperation.
Nothing masks desperation.
Desperation is beyond masking.
It can be forgotten, pushed aside,
ignored but once the stench makes you aware of itself,
it can't be masked.
The Lebanese people are tired
of the cheap perfumes, and deodorants, masking the truth.
Is it not time to smell the Cedars again?
There's a Stench flowing over Beirut right now.
In amidst the hussle and bustle,
of normal people trying to get to work.
Some choosing to observe the Strike called by Hezbollah.
Most wanting simply to get on with life.
There's bills to pay,
food needed for the table, rent to pay.
The Stench is peculiar.
It's not something that has
recently ' just gone off',
its something that has beennoticeable for a very long time.
But recently its getting worse.
What's unusual is the stench seems to be carried from a wind emanating from Damascus across the border to Beirut, possibly even from Tehran, its carried across the mountains and along the coast of Lebanon.
Yet the stench is not at all apparent in Damascus, no one smells it, in fact people are vigorously denying its existence.
Yet the stench that plagues Beirut continues carried by an North Westerly breeze across the frontier from Damascus it swirls around certain Neighborhoods of Beirut
stronger than else where.
It Is the Stench of Desperation.
The smell has become so bad that many people are busy working away, trying to deny its existence.
That's the thing about bad smells.
No matter how hard you try to mask them,
once they have been smelt,
no matter how much cleaning is done they linger,
seemingly at the time, forever reminding you of their history and causes.
Sometimes,
you revisit a seldom visited place and the smell of something unusual will set of deeply repressed memory that you had either tried to suppress or through pain had forgotten.
Other times,
the smells recall pleasant experiences,
summer nights along a boulevard,
salt flickering through the sea air,
the smell of many restaurants hustling and bustling, people tooing and froing.
People seem to emit certain smells
when they laugh, they intermingle with fine perfumes, and expensive after shaves reserved for special occasions.
The atmosphere is thick with feelings of happiness and good fortune.
That was the smell of freedom,
of good times, of choices.
These smells are gone.
All that exist in much of Beirut is a stench.
A stench of Desperation.
A stench of Corruption. A stench of political interference.
A stench of vested self interests.
Like the smell of cheap
perfume that fills a hotel
when its too late at night,
it permeates and attaches to things,
creating associations, thoughts, feelings,
memories which all lead to
the thought of wishing
there was some thing better.
Nasrallah thinks deodorant
will mask his desperation.
Nothing masks desperation.
Desperation is beyond masking.
It can be forgotten, pushed aside,
ignored but once the stench makes you aware of itself,
it can't be masked.
The Lebanese people are tired
of the cheap perfumes, and deodorants, masking the truth.
Is it not time to smell the Cedars again?
Original by Bagelblogger
Bagelblogger Always Fresh..!
* Lebanon * * Cedars * * Lebanon Corruption * * Lebanon's Better times * * Lebanon Politics * * Political Interference *
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