“She was darkness and he was darkness and there had never been anything before this time, only darkness and his lips upon her. She tried to speak and his mouth was over hers again. Suddenly she had a wild thrill such as she had never known; joy, fear, madness, excitement, surrender to arms that were […]
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Love, Lust, Faith and Dreams

Home / The girl who waited / Love, Lust, Faith and Dreams

“She was darkness and he was darkness and there had never been anything before this time, only darkness and his lips upon her. She tried to speak and his mouth was over hers again. Suddenly she had a wild thrill such as she had never known; joy, fear, madness, excitement, surrender to arms that were too strong, lips too bruising, fate that moved too fast.”
― Margaret Mitchell, Gone with the Wind

Ambition, cruelty, avarice and revenge were all founded on lust. She was thinking about it pacing the streets of the city, late at night, all by her self. The city of angels, angels with dark souls and broken wings. Whenever you gave yourself for your desires, you cut part of your wings, she was sure of it. You cut your wings, and your light faded a bit, until darkness started creeping to your soul. In the streets of Beirut, late at night, we all moved, our wings broken, darkness radiating out from our faces.

She strolled aimlessly back and forth, in dark alleys, listening to the sound of the cracked cobblestones and rain. She didn’t love him, and he didn’t love her, they were just losing whatever time they had left together, spilling it with no goals, nor agendas, time was being wasted trying to find something worthy of our miserable lives anyway. They both gave up trying, it just wasn’t worth it anymore, she was feeling as if she lost all sense of her surroundings, her dreams crashing in front of her.

There, she stopped mid track to keep up with her racing thoughts, all jumbled together. She wondered whether her dreams were nothing but an illusion, layers built out of her mother’s trashed ambitions and her father’s unmet aspirations. Just like pulling the end of a string from a knit scarf, when she asked her first question, all hell broke loose. She doubted everything around her, and she was losing faith, it cracked her being, shook her foundation and base. She wandered and in the streets she knew like the back of her hand, near the walls that kept her childhood, the street vendors that told her story, she was lost.

Once there was, once there wasn’t, a little girl who flew over the city when it got crowded, when the smoke suffocated her, whose soul lit her way when the sun was set and the dawn was nowhere near, a girl who submitted to her desires..

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