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Politics in the first person.

Writing is a struggle, so it is a practice. In spaces of repression this blog is a struggle/practice in free expression. 

Dubai in August

Cold smells like a butcher’s, and like aisles in the supermarket – frozen beans, refrigerated dairy. Like that chocolate cafe that closes...


I smuggled in a book I smuggled a book in Not in my carry-on In the suitcase between shoes and liquids Don’t get upset Don’t make me...

A Love Letter to Lebanon

As we know it, non-violence is a phase sustained. Soon co-opted by outside powers, coup-ed from the inside, by a military primed against...

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