back in santa cruz. i switch my computer and the back-ground image of my desktop hits me in the face. beirut. a breath-taking skyline of a city reconstructing itself, yet another fragile skyline that does not exist anymore. a long mail from kristy, she got out of beirut on a last al italia flight before the airport was bombed. angry. waiting in italy to get back. waiting. i think back of our email exchange before the war: how living in beirut, with her lebanese family, wasn’t always the easiest thing after having been raised in california. how the invitation to my “american” birthday bbq had made her homesick. now there’s only one place she aches to be, she’s determined to return – tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after…
back in santa cruz.
drowning in a pool of silent unmendable sadness today.
war in the world, again.
artificial paradise peace here.
obscene global divisions of labor.