Mazen Yes, it begins to quantify, "time passes and never returns" as our mutual friend said you made me discover a few years ago. Your teeth, Makram back and my hair, is this the beginning of the fall, the fall in full ascent, the fall when the maturity has finally when we start developing our only way of seeing things, not the most but probably just certainly the most sincere. It's strange but sometimes I hear you argue a disturbing impression of hear myself. It is perhaps those long discussions we always had, those projects that never materialized, this humor tinged with realism sad that we do not always share with others and then I confess our pride, our pride in the transgression, our refusal to let us go to the primary emotions, ease of good feelings, our rejection of social and cultural labels accepted by many. You loved me with Godard you were moved to tears with me watching "the merchant of the four seasons" Fassbinder's enthusiasm to get sloshed to clear his unhappiness, I loved you with Tarkovsky and Kafka, the master of literature which is so close who said to our place for more than a century and what we felt we could not express lack of effort and genius. We had our biggest laughs while watching "The Phantom of Liberty", forgetting the depth of the film focusing on the details that make the strength of Bunuel, his sympathetic Christ, priests happy playing cards, his bishop gardener. I discovered
Comic Strip, I gave up my prejudices, I found Laura and insults that I accept tender of other people, I went with you the other died of his life those who have left some something behind, a book, painting, film, music, real emotion it, pure emotion unaltered by the formatting of blockbusters that offer people what they want to hear what they want see, creating a virtual reality without foundation, when life is quite different in these joys and boredom.
It was asked, never found any answers not yet anyway, we have time, this time we will kill intellectual laziness, perhaps our greatest fault.
March 7 March 10 March 15, 3 friends the same year 1975, the year of abandonment, the year that hates us but subjugates the year changes, the year of the revolution retrograde, the year of acting out, the year my mother was scared for the first time and always the same question, how everything changes? Through our birth we were hostage to a conflict, it has not adopted or fatality for a reason, that word gives me goosebumps. It was adopted because it reminds us of our childhood, our games, the suffering of our parents. I wanted to know more, you too in love with the past that we are, in the past for us is the only reality, he is what I am now, I coined it, he gave me an identity, it created the people I love and those who disgust me. Samir Kassir was read, it was passionate about his book on the conflict, it was discussed and he died a few months later. This is where I think we began to understand his death summed up in an explosion while the paradox of Lebanon, Lebanon and the murder of Lebanon's intelligence, Lebanon and the Sabra and Lebanon Chatillah the Nahda, Lebanon and Lebanon living death. Today
was 31 years old were included but we have not done anything yet, there has been criticism but we did not act, do you think there is still time?
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