I am not very optimistic about the future of Lebanon, of mankind. The land of olives and pomegranates lies in ruins at the hands of the chosen ones. Chosen to kill, chosen to destroy, chosen to ensure they remain the chosen ones. I guess if no one else is alive, the Lord has no choice but to chose them.

The whole thing will blow up before it ever calms down again. And when it calm comes, it will be an empty land on blood-dried soils. There will be no olives to harvest because they would have uprooted them all. There will be no birds singing because all the fruit trees and all the flowers would be gone, dead from heavy sprays of glyphosate. Only the sun rising every day, smiling on a land that does not smile back.

The mountains from a distance will always look like mountains from the past, unchanged, but up close will tell a different story.

I wonder what stories these lands hold from ages past?

The stench of death and heavy black despair fills my nose even from Chicago where I live and write. I can smell so much rot in my nose it’s hard to describe. They are going in with bulldozers and teams that rig entire villages and blow it all up from the root to the sky. This vile stench fills my nose, my soul too. Evil manifest.

I do believe if one ponders the beginning of everything, we’re just going to be sad. I mean, if the universe started as a big bang in a violent explosion, then doesn’t that tell us something? Isn’t this why the universe is not screaming? That’s because the evil is imprinted in the fabric of the universe, coded in the 2nd law of thermodynamics. Satan is the universe manifesting in hurricanes and tornadoes that destroy what in a short time ago was created by the forces that make things and life.

The world began in war. But it will end in peace– when everything is so far apart nothing can harm anything else. But that is a long, long time from now.