Damascus Diary

Damascus Diary

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  • April 10, 2022

    Broken by Heart

    Broken by Heart

    Regrets. There’s nothing worse to endure. The worst regrets emerge from the failure to follow the heart — to go against it.

  • February 22, 2022

    House of Salted Caramel

    House of Salted Caramel

    Christoph was a terrible driver. I only drove with him once, and he almost crashed us. Not long after that, he did crash the same car, a cube-like Skoda, and then bought himself another Skoda. He was so fond of the Czech automobile brand, which was acquired by the German Volkswagen Group in 1994. I […]

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  • March 21, 2020

    my microcast

    my microcast

    When we think of social media, the first thing that comes to our minds are the various electronic platforms that operate it. We associate it with services that range from MySpace to Twitter, and from Yahoo! to LinkedIn. Our understanding of social media is quite shallow. Yet, in fairness, the term ‘social media’ itself is […]

  • February 6, 2020

    I left Syria, but I brought Damascus with me

    I left Syria, but I brought Damascus with me

    I’m back in Bamberg, where winter is warm, the streets are clean, and the air is fresh. There is a great degree of noise pollution here, though, because Bamberg is an industrialized city that has not yet learned how to properly informatize itself. Most people here have not reached a point where they struggle to […]

  • February 1, 2020

    The Last Damascene with a Keyboard

    The Last Damascene with a Keyboard

    Two days after my arrival in Damascus, I woke up depressed, unable to imagine that I had to spend three more weeks in this zombie city. I did my bed, and sat on it for a moment, unmotivated to do anything. And then I saw my reflection in my mother’s big dusty mirror. The miserable […]

  • January 26, 2020

    A Baathist Legacy

    A Baathist Legacy

    It hasn’t been easy to be at home with my mother again after all this long. This is the fourth time I see her since I moved to Europe in early 2015. My mother is the same every time we meet, yet she’s changed a lot. Some things never change about people, but they age. […]

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