You Are. You Are, Damascus, You Are.


When nothing is as it seems,

when everything feels better than it is,

when shadows follow and Batman pops up from the hollow,

when certainty keeps leaping away, astray,

when life seems joyful and colourful,

when the threads of the story are as they've always been:


when a denouement seems about to loom: grounded,

when the testing session of the male homo Sapiens is infinite,

when words and stories turn into scattered puzzle pieces, blown away with the wind,

when the Painter of Words replies, reverts to me not,

when my t-shirt would reply "Damn Hedgehog -- Just Rose It!"

Touché, D'ArtagnanA! touché!

when depite any feedback received so far, the female in me feels unrestrainted in expressing herself,

when the team player in me heeds, reckons and beckons the vivid support and care expressed by the SOR,

when the Seagulls of Romania, at times, seem to be getting a bit disturbed by the sincerity inhabiting my storytelling, inspired by the True Happenings of a past decade,

when the Seagulls of Romania seem to be so mindful, as if hanging on every single word I say, and every single breath I take,

when so much mindfulness and full presence, at times, or quite often, are difficult to bear,

henceforth, since as part of the Seagulls of Romania seem/feel kind, positive, naughty, very naughty, brilliant and caring, grounded gentlemen, I am positive they'll know the differences between Story based on True Happenings and Male Characters of life, and my personal opinions and beliefs of it all, at large,

when the road is joyfully, lovingly bumby,

when nothing is as certain as my feelings of true love, friendship, humanity, partnership and team player for You All,

and when I would chant in 1001 languages -- how much I have missed walking on your heavenly ground:

You are!

You Simply Are: Damascus!


Photo Credit: Anwar Bakdounes

Old Damascus, دمشق القديمة

September, 17th, 2022

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