It's probably quite obvious that I've abandoned livejournal altogether and moved on with my hectic student life. I logged on today to check something very specific but not important - and then scrolled a bit and read a bit and started feeling awfuly guilty.
Not so much for my few readers, but for myself. It's difficult to revive memories once gone - still I can no longer keep stopping and writing. It was not just the time limit, or laziness. It was the urge to live and not dwell on the past.

I'm not sure if I still comprehand that urge. However, a different urge had striken me - the urge to stay up tonight and write everything that's happened in the last (almost) year, explain it in detail, compare, conclude.

I'll place it behind a tag to not flood anyone's friends page. and I'll break it into parts and give them numbers, to not scare anyone off with a lrge amount of text. and I won't spellcheck, because for hell's sake, I can't be bothered.

Let me see.


1.
It looks like last time I wrote it was passover, almost exactly a year ago. I took a hike with Judas to the Carmel, and we had a very nice time. I usually had a very nice time with him.
We were together for a year and a half, and he was the first feminist man I've dated. He was short, passionate, extremly clever and had unsurpassable wit. He also loved me, no doubt about that, and I loved him back.
There's really no point trying to explain everything I've gone through - in life and in relationships - and how it led me to find happinnes in an open, no-strings-attached relationship. We used to see eachother one night a week at most, but I don't remember missing him dearly - I loved my freedom, I loved dating other guys and I loved not being judged. I grew jealous at times, but I was still prepared to pass on security to be free /and/ loved, no conditions. Hell, with him I've grown and learned so much about the world and about myself. I learned how to enjoy, and how to give comfort. I learned how to listen, and how to be listened to. I learned to admit what I want, with no anger. I learned how to orgasm. Looking back, I can't say my heart doesn't ache. It really did feel nice, it felt absolutely great for very long - until it no longer did.

2.
I started studying in university last November, and my first year was, in short, a mess. It was stressing, I hated the dorms and I had no idea how to study. things have changed a lot since - I now live in an actual apartment, am very poor and have a small job in the university. My grades got a little bit better, too. But a lot comes before that.

3.
I noticed him on the first week of the school year. He usually sat on the first row, almost underneath the lecturer's chin. I could never sit there - it was too close to be comfortable. He was tall, pale, had lovely dark hair in a bad haicut and was slightly overweight. What caught my attention is the fact he always looked very nervous - the way he would take his notebook out, the way he would take notes, his quick pace as he walked to his chair, never late but always with an aplogizing smile sent to the general direction of the floor.
It seemed like his hands were usually shaking. He used to bite his nails.

4.
One night, a month or more after school started, I dreamt about him. In my dream he was standing, all alone, in the pine woods that surround the highway to Jerusalem. It was night, and he had to burry two people - his mother and his father, who just died. He was too shy to speak clearly, but was also obviously very distressed - and me, I had to help him. For some reason, I had to plan all the food for the funeral. I looked through books, I made phone calls, but nothing worked out. I was worried and distressed.
When I woke up, I realized I don't even know his name.
The next dream came two weeks later, and in the second dream we were having sex. I don't remember much but him being on top, kissing me a lot, that feeling he was all around me and everywhere.
I woke up feeling weirded out, completely. Amir (who was not yet accepted to Stanford, who hadn't yet left without leaving an emailor or a number) said, "if you spend so much time thinking about him, why don't you try and talk to him?" "talk to him?" I was horrified at the idea. "Yes, Gil, /talk/ to him, like normal people do when they want to be friedly. Start with 'Hi'.

5.
Amir, of course, had an excellent point. I eventually gathered the courage needed, said 'Hi' - and we started talking. I can't remember our first chats exactly - I remember joking with him about his allergies (it was simple to assume) and being amazed at his heavy, almost flowery way of using the Hebrew language. He spoke softly which made him sound American, but he was just a native speaker with patience. Most Israelis don't have that quality.
He had a unique personality, and you didn't have to like him in order to notice. I, of course, liked hime immedietly, and the few chats we had, every once in a while, made me really happy. In fact, they made my day. Yet he was so shy I had no idea if he liked me at all. As we grew to know eachother a little and his cryptic behavior didn't change, I assumed he just doesn't. Maybe a bit. Maybe he's gay. I had no idea, actually.
Oh, and his name was Amitai.
At the time, I told myself that it doesn't matter. I didn't know him well, and we were studying together, and we were very casual friends - that was all. I dreamt once again about having sex with him two months later, then pushed the thought away. I had Judas and I had enough to worry about as it was.

6.
When the first semester ended I used to try and encourage Amitai to come and study with us - 'us' refers to Shachar and myself, my closest friend from school. He came over rarely, never stayed long, but seemed to know the material better than everyone else. My final grades weren't at all good, but his were excellent.
I was really frustrated. another small, not important reason to be frustrated was that during the second semester Amitai stopped arriving to classes almost entirely. When he did - about once a week - I because cheerful and would try my best to have at least a few words with him. I'd accuse him of betraying our friendship and things like that - the silly things you say when you try to get through to someone, but you're not sure how. A while before the second semester ended, he told me he was quitting biology. I wasn't sure what to do.

7.
By that time, most of our common friends knew that I had a crush on him. I mentioned him a lot, and when they asked I asnwered honestly - yes, I feel something towards that guy. A weird something, it's difficult to explain. "Really? Amitai?" they'd ask, thinking of his worn-out clothes, of his nervous stummer. then they'd add - "you two sound like a disaster." I guess we did.
After he stopped arriving to campus I texted him a few times and asked how he was doing. We took a few walks together. A while before the semester ended I broke up with the Canadian, and in my frustration demanded more clearly of Amitai to hang out with me - and we snuk into a concert practice and watched it with glaring eyes. Chatting away, I took him to the Invertebrates Collection, showed him the shells and crabs and spider. Then he sat, shaking, near the desk where I work, and I cried and told him of my frustration with relationships. I said, "I always end up hurting the nicest guys." I wished he's understand I was talking about him, too. But he didn't, and I hugged him and thanked him. When we walked out I said, "Amitai, if you like me - how about inviting me to hang out with you sometimes?" and he said, "I will." but I knew he wouldn't, and he didn't.

8.
One night, when the semester ended, The Canadian called me up, and I sat outside and cried. Shachar sat with me, listened, and after a while suggested we'd do something nice that weekend. Perhaps Amitai would join us, he suggested. I called Amitai and he said we could spend the weekend in Tel Aviv, in the house that used to belong to his grandparents. It sounded like an excellent idea, and on Friday we drove to Tel Aviv - Shachar, Judas and myself - and met Amitai at the Chinese baoze place. The 4 of us had baoze, visited cool used books stores and then walked back to Amitai's grandparents' house and looked through their impressive collection of books.
We listened to records, played backgammon and talked until Judas left. Then Shachar fell asleep, and Amitai and myself were left the spend the afternoon together. We read poetry, went shopping and prepared a lasagna. At night Amitai, Shachar and I got drunk. I tried flirting with Amitai and felt. He made me feel so old sometimes. He made me feel 80.

9.
The three of us spent 2 nights and 3 days together, and it was great. We listened to music and bought hot-dogs and went skinny-dipping. Amitai told us a lot about his dead grandparents, and cried. I wanted to hug him so bad I thought I was going to explode.
On the second afternoon, when Amitai had a shower, I asked Shachar if he thought Amitai was interested in me at all. "At this point I'd say no," and said. "and besides, you two obviously want different things. He's such a sensitive guy. If I were you, I'd let it go."
I knew for certain that he was right, but I also knew that I just can't.

10.
We all went to sleep very late on the second night that weekend. Shachar walked into one room, I walked into another and Amitai slept on the couch, even after I said I'm okay sharing a bed. Sitting on the bed I felt like I could explode. Then I walked back to the living room and looked outside, at Rabin square, while Amitai was making the couch. the soft lights of the city shone through the big windows. Everything looked calm and quiet, like it does very late on a Saturday night. I wasn't calm - my heart was racing.
"Is everything alright?" Amitai finally asked when I sat down on the couch in front of him.
"I guess," I answered. He sat on the couch opposing me and looked at me, waiting for me to say something.
"Amitai," I said and took a deep breath - "if I were to try and kiss you, would you've moved away because you're shy, or would it be because you're not interested?"
He looked up at me, and I looked at the carpet. I felt stupid and dramatic and drivel. "I don't think I'd move away," he finally said.
I looked up at him, and felt hopeless. All the nervousness and anxiety left me, but it wasn't relief - I felt empty, completely empty of emotion or energy. I wanted to cry, but didn't have the energy to. He countinued - "I didn't know you were interested."
"You didn't know?" I answered with a chuckle. "You're kidding me."
"No, I'm not," he answered. "I'm sorry if I've hurt you. I didn't know."
we then continued sitting there, not saying anything.
"You know we want different things," he eventually said. "we do? I don't know what I want." I answered. "Whatever it is, I don't think it's what /I/ want," he said.
"Fine," I sighed. "Now what?"
"Now I think I'd like to kiss you goodnight. Would that be alright?"
and it was.

11.
Judas was really happy to heard about that. "Amitai is such a nice guy and you've liked him for so long -" "Look, now," I had to explain, "it started with that kiss, and ended with it. He's not made for open relationships."
On my birthday, going through my traditional depression, Shachar suggested a beer and invited Amitai. We had too much beer, went skinny dipping in a small natural toad-filled pool and then took a sort walk. It was a warm night and the moon was full. We walked across a forested hill, not speaking.
I stood there that night, looking at a small bonfire in the valley and thinking. I thought about guilt and about pain. I thought about living 24 years in guilt, and about howmuch I'dlike to stop - when I heard Amitai breathing. He was almost hyperventilating, there, in the dark, by himself. It was heartbreaking, and without a word I walked up and hugged him. He held me tight, like his life depended on it, and shook. I hushed him, telling him everything is going to be just fine. "I don't know... what to do with this." he said.
"This?"
"Us."
"You do with it what you want, Amitai."
"No. I... it's so difficult."
I touched his hair and thought of something comforting to say. "You're not alone. We'll work this out, together. I promise." and he stopped shaking.

12.
The next morning I texted him and suggested we meet at campus and have a talk. He gave me another small kiss the previous night, and I was walking on air. I didn't want to have sex with Amitai. I didn't want to be his girlfriend, or friend. I didn't want to break his heart. All I wanted at the time was to get to know him.
I knew that I was in love, and I knew that it was an accident waiting to happen. I knew I'd screwed up every relationship I've ever had, and that Amitai was fragile. I suggested the talk, assuming we were to decide to end it. But he thought otherwise.
I sat on the bench beside him and tried to explain why he shouldn't date me. The scent from his body excited me, and I couldn't concentrate. I wanted to touch him so bad my fingers itched, but after I was done talking, he hugged me and said that I was wrong.
I don't know what he was thinking, but he claimed that he wants to try, that he really does. That he's willing to risk having his heart broken. and I tried to convince him he was making a mistake before realizing that telling another person what's good for them is a really dumb things to do. Next thing I knew, we were dating.

13.
It felt really strange, dating Amitai. The guy I studied with for so long. We used to meet and talk, kiss like teenagers, eat pasta. He's show me places around the city. He looked really happy, but was jeaous of Judas all the time. I felt really bad, but didn't know what else to do.
It was a month and many "I love you's" before we first had sex, and although it was his first time, I was blown away. I cried and cried of excitement, and he had to calm me down. Crying on such occasions became a habit. I was terribly in love with him, and it shook my world. I didn't think I'd ever feel this way, certainly not after so many guys, relationships, so much sarcasm. I felt helpless and it was wonderful.
Things between me and Judas were slowly falling apart. As a matter of fact, I kept seeing him out of a deep feeling of obligations, to the point I used to count the hours 'til the time I go home. I still loved him, but I always, always felt guilty becuase it'd hurt Amitai so bad. I also felt guilty towards Judas, and my romantic life because a nightmare. Trying to balace between two dramatic relationships, at some point I had to give up.

14.
What I didn't tell Judas was that when Amitai stayed to sleep, we'd spend the whole night hugging. I didn't tell him that one morning I woke up beside Amitai, and he turned to me, and the look in his eyes said, "I've been waiting for so long - and you're finally here."
At that moment I knew Amitai would love me even in 70 years. His eyes had in them nothing but deep compassion and complete happiness, something I've never seen before. It almost made me jeaous.
For the first time in my life, I could suddenly see myself having a family. Not now, not soon - but it suddenly made sense, strange, twisted sense. for a split second even monogomy made sense. I knew then that something's changed, that I've changed, that things have to change. I also knew Judas would never forgive me, and I guess he won't.

15.
I left Judas in November and he was furious and hurt. I cried for two days, then Amitai messaged me and said, "I know you're in pain, but if you left him to try and have a relationship with me I'd suggest you start doing it." Amitai wasn't angry when I got angry and moody and confused - he just waited, talked me through it when I wanted to, and waited some more. I guess that, since he waited for months hoping for something like that to happen, he figured waiting some more wouldn't hurt.
Perhaps we were supposed to start having ugly fights by now, but we haven't. We're too busy being content, he's too patient and understaing, and I'm not prepared to screw this up - not again. We're trying our best. I think I'm happy.

16.
Last night he told me, "I was lonely for so long before I met you." I thought such a thing would sound needy, but it didn't. Somehow, I know that Amitai would be just fine without me, just like I'd be fine without him.
My grades are a lot better this semester - my average is actually 4 points higher.
I think it's going to be fine.

</lj>

Tags: amitai, boys, judas, let there be light, memories, ramble on, uni

7 weeks later I'm climbing a hill again.
"Dude, this isn't a road, it's a wall, dude," Judas exclaims as he stops and stands beside me. I giggle and sigh, adjust the straps of my bag and take a small step. I stabilize myself before taking another. Then I tell him something about Zen.

We crossed the Carmel, all green and blooming in springtime, in a day and a half and felt like heros - I'm in the worst shape of my life, he has hardly any experience with hiking. Then rocks, woods, camping, reading the map. It's all a lot easier once you find the Zen in it, I told him. I don't know that much about Zen.
But, let's say, climbing this hill.
When you first look at the map, count the orange stripes and see how high you have to climb, you might feel tired already, almost defeated. A while after you do start climbing, though, you might understand that you never had to climb that high. You just had to take a step, then another.
And, I added, it's a bit like this stupid chemistry exam that I took a second time only to score extra 5 points and get a final score of 65. As I didn't fail, I have options. Even though my average is, well, not good, I still have options. and as long as I have options, it'll work out. Somehow.

We stopped at sat down at the top, sweating and panting. I took my shawl off, allowing the cool spring breeze to blow over my neck. A pool of sweat formed around my bellybutton and Judas laughed. We walked through meadows and woods and down the mountains. We did it all, step by step, enjyoed eachother's company, enjoyed the view. We didn't fight or argue. We had no reason to.

21 hours later my grandmother asks me to carry the milk into the storehouse outside, and put it in the fridge. I take both carton boxes, step barefoot into the yard, unlock the wearhouse door and step in.
The warm noon light streams into the wearhouse, illuminating the dark-brownish walls and the specks of dust that dance through the air. the wearhouse in small - there are a few white refrigirators, two tables crowded with nails and screws and a large saw, a box of dry onions, a few large boxes of empty glass bottles. At the very end of the wearhouse stand 5 large wide green bottles the size of barrels with fabric and straw and thermometers peeking out, full of my grandfather's wine.
A few things in life are more serene than that wearhouse, but only a few.
Back in the house I ask my grandmother, again, if there's anything else she needs help with. Unexpectadly, she says yes, and points to the large basket of wet laundry. It makes me smile.

I step into the back yard on the other side of the house, puff as I put the basket down, and while hanging a dry towel I notice that some of the laundry that's been hanging since morning is dry. I pick the pair of jeans she washed for me, and the white top that seems to glow in the sunshine. Everything seems to glow - the white towels, the lemon tree, the vines that grow on the broken fence, entwined with chrysanthemums.
I take off the clothes my grandmother gave me when all my clothes were dirty. They're too big for me anyway. and for a moment, I stand almost-naked in the sunshine, and don't feel like getting dressed.
It's waem, and it's quiet, and it's lovely.
I then get dressed, and continue hanging the laundry.
That was the bginning of the passover. The rest was also fine.

I will set internet up in the dorm next week, and maybe get back to writing.
My first exam went pretty bad and the second, that I'll be taking tomorrow, is looking horrid.

On a lighter note, I've been losing weight due to stress...

Stress.

Typed in on Wednesday.


It is midnight, and I'm sitting on my dorm bed and typing. It's cold outside, maybe 3C. Last week was colder.
The room, however, is warm. I just had tea and finished calculus homework from two weeks ago. I'm Having a hard time keeping up. Some days I feel completely lost.
It's quiet, real quiet. I can hear the wind blowing through the trees. There are no alarms, no airplanes, nothing to worry about at all.

Jerusalem, where I now live, is about an hour drive from my parents'. My parents live about an hour drive from Gaza stripe, where airplanes roar and bomb, where people sleep, in this weather, with their windows open so the glasses won't shatter as their cities are being bombed.
Where people don't sleep, because death is all around them.

I believe in our country's right to protect itself, and in our right to live quietly, safely, not have our routine - not to mention lives - threatened. I care for my fellow citizens as much as anyone else would. But for many other reasons I feel, in a sense so strong it screams inside of me, that this war is a mistake.
No terror organization in history has been defeated by a war. No one's even expecting to defeat them, still we fight. Because we must. Because there's no other choice. Because we're thirsty for blood. Because our politicians say so. We send our sons, brothers and fathers to kill somebody else's fathers and children in our attempt to defeat an organization that's been terrorizing our lives for 8 years. We fight.

They live 2 hours from my warm, safe room, a million and a half citizens with not enough food supplies, with not enough medication supplies, with no shelters, in constant horror. However we look at it, our destinies are connected. When their lives get better, ours will. When they feel safe, we will be safe. When we believe in their right to live here, they might accept ours. We're all human beings, and we're all made of blood, flesh, needs, hopes. One day, we will have to share this land, live on it as partners. But how many deaths away, who knows.


I hung signs in the university halls last week, and the responds were varied. I didn't know what else to do - something had to be said. They were probably taken off the same night, but I never checked. I knew that 'unity' is more important now, that suddenly I'm representing a minority.
'Unity' became so important that I can hardly speak up anymore. When I do, I'm being called a traitor, for not supporting the government's harsh, provocative and blood-thirsty actions. I'm "not supportive of our troops", though I've served in the army myself. I'm "delusional", even though history is at my side. not to mention comments about my assumed sexual behavior.
this is what not supporting the war feels like today in Israel.

This government does not fight for me, nor for my name. It fights for itself, and this month, for the first time in my life, I have understood that I need not leave this country - it had left me behind so long ago.

Every day I tell myself not to mention it. Not to argue with people anymore, not to worry. I try to concentrate on my life - organic chemistry, laundry, chocolate, octapi, the upcoming weekend with Judas.
But I can't. It drips out and forms puddles, puddle that reflects a basic human emotions people tend to forget of. In a month, when the attack ends and the reports start flowing in, the horrible photographs, the heartbreaking stories, the numbers, the numbers, for a single moment this country, perhaps the whole world, will feel the way I do right now. They will then turn their televisions off, and forget.

6 minutes before class, I decided I should write. I must. So here goes.

I haven't studied all day, and fell asleep in chemistry class. It's probably because yesterday I got into my head the thought that I'm going to fail all my courses this semester. The reason I felt that way is that while I usually keep up with the homework, it takes me a long while to digest the material. I finish he homework, then am unsure of what I did, and find it difficult to repeat. Also, my concentration abilities are dwindling. I fall asleep in class, like, almost every day.
So last night Canadian came over. He's the sort of guy that gives you reasonable answers to unreasonable questions, and so I didn't get to why I was frustrated and upset. It didn't make me feel angry, nor disappointed - just lonely. He feel asleep, and I stayed up crying until 2am, when my roommate came back, then we talked for a bit. I just felt stressed, so stressed. and today I simply stopped.


I got chemistry lab now, and after that I'll go shower, take a bus to Tel-Aviv and go watch a movie with Judas, because I've been complaining we don't do much but lie about naked and play with each other's bodies. Which is a very exact definition to something wonderful, but for once I need to be outside, so maybe tomorrow I can get back to studying. There's so much to do.

Some days I'm not sure what I was thinking, going to university. Everyday stress crashes me, and I've made an aware choice to go through 3 very stressful years. Perhaps this is the sort of choice you have to make, as the only other option would be to give up on your dreams. Is that ever an option?

Right.
I just came here to see how the world's doing, as usual avoiding studying...
I'd say I'm doing well but there's a huge gap I need to fill in my studying hours. and now I got the flu.

I'm sitting in the library by one of the old computers and can't make myself concentrate. It's stupid, I know.
No, it's not stupid.
But I want more control.

Last week with Judas was wonderful. He invited me, again, to join him and go see a play on Tuesday night, and I had to finally refuse.
Tel Aviv is not a terribly long way from Jerusalem, but with all the studying I must do I'd rather spend a long while with him if I make it all the way. He understood and invited some friend instead. It turned out to be the right decision, too,

As I made (limited) plans with the Canadian on Monday and my mom reminded me my brother's about to be drafted into the army, and so they'll come and visit me on Thursday. Judas offered I'd spent Friday night over.
So many plans, so little time, but I can do it if I push harder today, on Thursday morning and next week.

So yeah, the play can wait.
But then his friend got sick, and he invited some girl he's been wanting to date for a while now. She's also from Jerusalem.

It makes me happy, in a way. Open relationships allow you that. Open relationships allow me to have a wonderful time with The Canadian and cuddle him as Monday dwindles into Tuesday. The girl Judas has been talking about sounds awesome and it'll make him happy, as his sense of freedom should expand he'll allow himself to even get closer to me, I know it. And besides, this is the healthiest relationship I've ever had, I hardly ever get jealous, I handle it well a large portion of the time, I...
I can't chase the image of her taking my place, because in a very physical way, she is. It's scary - I can't be around, and someone else is. I know he has enough love, time, attention and libido for two girls because it's happened before, I know it's in my head, but like in all these chemistry euqations the logic seems to escape me when I try to feel through the numbers and substances.

This hasn't happened before. Not this time around, not with him. I'm surprised and sad, but most of all, I'm scared. I want to stop feeling that way so I don't ruin what I've achieved with so much effort and so much love.
I tell myself we'll spend the weekend together. I tell myself it'll make more sense tomorrow. I tell myself it's 6pm, and I still have hours of studying in front of me. In the warm library, amongst books and numbers, while they'll be watching a play, or walking on the street, or something much more frustrating to imagine.
And as my heart seems to beat faster it sends strange chemicals into my bloodstream, and they reach nerves and send signals up my spine, into my heavy head. the equations blur as biology wins me over, and on the papers of yesterday's physics lecture, I cry.

One weekend, in the end of September, Judas and I walk around the city. We share a few things in common: books, chocolate, ice cream, sarcasm. They all make for a pleasant time.
This was a bit before I got sick, before I digested the full meaning of the word 'chronic', before I shut myself at home for days wondering why such a young body has to go through so much, and before I got tired of self-pity and understood that what the hell, this is a mild illness, and life goes on, and besides, I have so many plans.
2 months later I'm still coughing, but the doctors said it's nothing terrible or chronic - merely a cough. My dorm room is tiny but is starting to look homely, and my roomate hasn't been around all week.

I got an lj-nudge from sddiva some time ago, and I seriously can't remember the last time I've written. I thought of letting go of LJ, but am not sure about it yet.
3 years ago I stopped writing poetry, and I miss it. If I stop writing altogether, what will I have left?

First off, as a slight redemption, I bear 2 gifts to anyone who's reading this. The first is very self-centered and is my brand new photo-blog with the title What's In A Pie. I decided it was time for me to find a spot for some of the photos I take, and flickr was being a mean b*tch.



I started university (studying biology) this week, and I'm awfully thrilled about it, and carry many mixed emotions. Sometimes it feels impossible, some days it's a pure pleasure. I change my mind at least a few times a day.
I'm also (still) dating Judas and The Canadian. Don't know if I've ever mentioned him. They both make me very happy, even though I might not have a lot of time to see them - now with school. There'sa very strong general feeling of something good that's happening. It's difficult to avoid.
I live in the dorms. I still don't know my roomate very well, but she seems really nice. It's small and the kitchen is on the bottom floor of the building. My mom prepares me small boxes with frozen food. We haven't set up the internet connection yet, but I've managed to leech someone's wireless - only until we get our own, of course. I try to socialize with other people, but it isn't simple. The classes are long but interesting for the most part. I wouldn't imagine myself going through life without knowing some about basic chemistry and mechanics, about the way objects and materials behave in the world we live in. It feels like basic education forme, like the sort of things I've always needed to know.

The Canadian came over on Tuesday, and we had a tuna salad and ice coffee in the old city and talked about the behavior of a pendulum, velocity, all sorts of simple mechanics topics. The sun set over the towers and the voice of the Imam calling from the mosque rolled across the neighborhood.
I love this city, but the climate's too dry for my liking and makes my hair and skin look weird. The campus is wonderful, full of grass and trees and the 15-minute-walk into class every morning makes me happy.

I finished almost all my homework before the weekend, and on Thursday I took a bus to TA and went to see Judas. It was a long exhausting week for the both of us, and he went through a really difficult depressing time and pulled me in with him - as it was partially my fault.
But after being busy and letting it go for a couple of days he was suddenly refreshed, pleased and libidious. The hugs were long, the kisses were mind-boggling and every moment rose and sank like the breath of a sleeping person.
and after some time at home I'm back here, 2:30am, trying to make up for the lost words.
At night, when I read, the words seem to fly in front of my eyes and the pages to flip themselves. I feel so concentrated, so awake - not everybody likes studying, but I do. It's like being in a state of osmosis, with facts and numbers filling you.


As a last addition for tonight, Asaf Avidan.
Israelis already know him and The Mojos, a band I've been listening to a lot in the last month, and saw live with The Canadian more than a month ago.

As he sings in English, I strongly recommend his music to, well, everyone. Oh, and yes - it's a guy.
It was difficult to choose only one song to embed here, so I went with two. The first is just very plain popular.



( Hangwoman lyricsCollapse )


This one's been my favorite for a while now.



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