Last April, I wrote this words, in French, and posted them on Facebook
Call for help:
Paris has been depressing me so much since February...
Despite the breath carried by the demonstrators, the negative atmosphere, the general suffering of the people, the metro crowded, where people become violent, the dire problem of housing, the lack of joy, anonymity and indifference between each other, people too busy, in too much of a hurry, the gaps in inequality greater than ever...
My heart is aching.
I used to be my city's biggest fan for a while, but I'm dying there now...
What else to do but leave?
Since 2015 though, I have felt that France has sunk into its worst habits, and racism is haunting me.
Now with the death of Nahel, and the denial of our own government about the worst of our problems: racism, discrimination, post-colonial hatred, police brutality, harassement, segregation...
...I have no more hope we can change the situation.
But I also no longer the hope to escape it by leaving.
I've learned my lessons the hard way: If you leave letting your ghosts thrive in a feast, they will haunt you and eat your dreams up...
There is no escape.
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