From the over-romanticized achievements of our supposed ancestors to the sad story of our failed state, the Mediterranean has always been given a leading role. From Porto Torres to Ras El Bar, from Lattakia to Ashdod, history has always given her the same part. Beware of the dangerous simplifications that breed fictitious definitions of a territory, its people and their identity. Beirut is too often portrayed in marvelous denial; desperately holding on to its Mediterranean’s idyllic past. The inevitable transition of my beloved city into a derailing modernity has however brought with it a violent and sour present. I am at war with the consensual clichés that confine me to the pathetic nostalgia of a Mediterranean that is not mine. Let us celebrate our catastrophes.