• The Soul on Autopilot

    The Soul on Autopilot

    The Soul on Autopilot by Youssef Angiari There is a moment, while driving, when something slightly disorienting happens. Your hands are on the wheel, your eyes follow the road, your foot knows instinctively the distance between the accelerator and the brake; and yet you are not there. You are somewhere else. You are replaying a

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  • Who Said Love Was Harmonious?

    Who Said Love Was Harmonious?

    Who Said Love Was Harmonious? by Ani Tenieshvili © Elene Datusani In recent years, talking about love has become strangely superficial and sterilized. If we are to believe books, movies, or the ubiquitous social media “influencers,” an ideal relationship is a silent, harmonious convergence of two people, where any disagreement is merely a failure of

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  • On the Hidden Beauty of Ironing

    On the Hidden Beauty of Ironing

    On the Hidden Beauty of Ironing by Youssef Angiari © Elene Datusani There are few household chores as universally detested as ironing. It sits somewhere between cleaning the bathroom and washing dishes in the hierarchy of domestic annoyances. Yet I want to suggest something counterintuitive: that ironing, properly understood, contains a peculiar beauty; one that

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  • Kluster Collectif X Hors Sol: The Day Paris Nightlife Clicked

    Kluster Collectif X Hors Sol: The Day Paris Nightlife Clicked

    Kluster Collectif X Hors Sol: The Day Paris Nightlife Clicked by Elene Datusani More than a month has passed since that day, and I still find myself returning to it. Not out of nostalgia, but because something about that day felt different. It was one of the first moments in Paris where the nightlife scene

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  • Validity of Anger and Sheriffs of Morality

    Validity of Anger and Sheriffs of Morality

    Validity of Anger and Sheriffs of Morality by Ani Tenieshvili I dreamed I was a seagull, soaring over the city. Nowadays, I only return to my childhood home in my dreams. In Batumi, the roof of the Soviet apartment block across from my old house was the primary sanctuary for seagulls-and perhaps it still is.

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  • Let’s Talk About Female Fantasies

    Let’s Talk About Female Fantasies

    Let’s Talk About Female Fantasies by Sopho Kharazi What do you fantasize about when you want to heat things up in bed? What can make you come in a split second? What turns you on? What do you crave, lack, desire? And how do you feel after the rush of orgasm, once the fantasies recede?

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  • Bassiani: Before the City Returns

    Bassiani: Before the City Returns

    Bassiani: Before the City Returns by Elene Datusani After moving to Paris, I’m rarely in Tbilisi, though I still return during the Christmas and New Year holidays. Shortly after arriving this time, I saw that Bashkka, a DJ I deeply like, was playing at Bassiani in Horoom, under Hydrash, a queer-led event promising intensity, dizziness,

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  • It Was Just an Accident: Footsteps of Fear and Power in Iran and Beyond

    It Was Just an Accident: Footsteps of Fear and Power in Iran and Beyond

    It Was Just an Accident: Footsteps of Fear and Power in Iran and Beyond by Sopho Kharazi Note. If you are reading this, be prepared for spoilers. That said, I highly recommend stopping here, watching the movie, and then coming back. I recently watched Jafar Panahi’s new film It Was Just an Accident. It left me

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  • Fearless, Bold, and Radiant: Reflections on Georgian Drag 

    Fearless, Bold, and Radiant: Reflections on Georgian Drag 

    Fearless, Bold, and Radiant: Reflections on Georgian Drag by Sopho Kharazi Note: This is a personal reflection. While I am aware of the many challenges faced by drag performers in Georgia, my focus here is not on hardship but on empowerment, admiration, and the transformative joy of witnessing their art. Sexiness, comfort, safety, love, and

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  • Detour Toward Fulfillment: A Night at Essaim

    Detour Toward Fulfillment: A Night at Essaim

    Detour Toward Fulfillment: A Night at Essaim by Elene Datusani There are nights that begin by accident. The kind that are not planned or anticipated. They simply arrive because something in you refuses to go home yet. Essaim happened like that for me. I was at the dinner, having conversations around life, satisfaction with it,

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