Summer’s first sweet kiss

April 6, 2021 § Leave a comment

Sea Dream

April 6, 2021 § 1 Comment

‘I will love you forever

Or, at least till morning comes.’

Tel Aviv is a cupcake that goes on and on and on.

Not all sex leads to orgasms, even for men.

There is so much of it that we are desensitized.

Fucking is eating, and eating is rare, and only after the appearance of a Wolt delivery guy on a bicycle screaming into an earpiece.

The underground is being built on top of the streets from 11pm to 5am and the mayor is actually Alice in Wonderland with male sex organs.

I had a dream that I would live in a big glass house by the sea, and that it would purify me, but instead I received cockroaches and the sea…the sea.

The sea has been poisoned by Persians and if you dip a toe inside, you will vomit for fourteen hours afterwards.

I do not remember what the dream house looked like. White, floating curtains in a summer breeze, when a salty breeze brings the sting of the sea and a dust of sand across of the living room.

There are no rooms to live in here, only dreams.

The safest place to occupy is your own mind.

The most important question is, how long do you want to keep eating that one cupcake?

Let me tell you about a girl called Jane

April 4, 2021 § 5 Comments

Most of our endeavours on this odd little planet are in pursuit of the human desire not to be evil. Our rituals, belief systems. We are desperately trying not to be evil. Trying to be moral. A distinctively human impulse. One shared across humanity.

And yet we all fail. When I was a very little girl, my parents would inject me every night, with steroids and painkillers. Fifteen years. I lived a horror story. In the end, the pain entered my soul in such a way that it could never be removed. My body’s natural defense system had been shattered. I lived on antibiotics or I did not live. I was perpetually ill, and I had been psychologically groomed to believe I would always be in pain, that pain was my destiny, and that I had been brought into the world to be in pain. I was a beautiful little korban, blonde and big-eyed. I did not cry, because my parents went out of their way to change my fate. Instead of pain I felt apathy, nothing, a vacuum. I didn’t feel. And then I turned eighteen.

Why are we doomed to fail? Why is this project doomed to failure? Why is evil necessary for survival? Questions for an interventionist G-d.

Where Am I?

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