The Other ( Beirut 2017 )


The Other

The one whose way has been separated from "The Other" by the Dealer thousands of
years ago,
suffering and possessed,
standing at the peak of triumph and selfishness, dice in hand...
The Other…
is accompanying me, all day and all night
silent and staggered
I'm crossing it... I'm crossing with it, my race horse, my shelter,
It is dissolving inside me
my food, my fantasy
Cruelty is my trade
The Other...
The charm of the beasts, my mask...
I'm stealing its face
I'm hiding behind its magic
I'm telling stories, creating illusions
I know I'll have to apologize to that Other the day I understand: Which one is the
“Other"...? Which one is “Me”...?