Hummm... this is really damn weird. A litte explanation was written more than an hour before the note about Ari but they are juxtaposed in the order of notes, I really don't get it. Anyway this note about Ari was a bit of a bad brain trip so we're better off ignoring it, the writing about Isobel is going smooth actually, and only by devoting myself a bit more to the studies and less to the wasteful screen I think I'll be able to really achieve something out of all this cool writing.
Going back to the note I held myself back from complaining in the last minute, my blog will not be the place where I'll pour all this unnecessary hatred and frustration; I've managed very well to do it inflated with the most sublime art and I think it's an admirable thing, even coming from myself.
I probably should give it a try more, I might end up getting out of the mess alive. Yeah! believe it or not it's very probably I'll survive this time too, well it's easier said than done like everything, for despite of having pulled myself through really difficult times in life so many times alone in this filthy place (which isn't filthy at all, it's my country... so I'm the only one who can say this aloud, got it right? It's not a try-it-at-home kind of thing) this time things seem to be very different. Firstly I've come to conclusions and terms I'd never been in before and it's nothing but a good thing. Secondly I never got myself so deep in shit ever before, but there's a first time for everything. The next step will be court trials, deportations, notifications, lawyers, etc. and oh well I almost seem to be there.
I still don't seem to care about anything at all, how Ari of me.. and how resignatedly Jewish of me, as if God was to take care of anything at all. Still if I've pulled out of other kinds of shit why wouldn't I pull out this time? What do I have to lose?
I mean, from this point on I really have nothing to lose. Very few things left in my life at the moment, my books, some platonic friendships with friends that never pick up the phone, my blog, Isobel. That's all about it, oh... tons and tons and tons of alcohol. That as well. That's all what I've got, hence should I fear anything at all? Should I fear anything worse than what I've been through in the last weeks? Not really
I mean, I'm not made of still by no means yet no evil in this world seems to be able to surprise, for as in Elliot some people is extremely well designed and built up to bear pain and frustration, but awfully bad configurated for enjoyment, pleasure and love. I'm not sure if I can count myself in that group but sort of, it's a sucession of rainy days hence I can't put things otherwise. It was all too good to be true, something had to go wrong back then and I just surrendered, without trying to amend anything at all.
I can just give it a last try. Some ultimate things are already well known and that's very important, but material comfort, running water, clean clothes, decent food and some tender caring love are as well, probably just as much; even for a self-obsessed philologist. I can truely claim to be alone in this world, or not really... it's just self-pitying Ari... that's yet to be seen. He's just too good of a friend with no friends, as funny as it might sound (and ironic) I think probably Keren is my only real friend down here. Life acts in really sympathetic ways.
I'm also too old to say I'm going to kill myself or that I just want to die and disappear, life would never put me in situations I can't really cope with, the pain I can bear is relative to my tools and skill so to cope with it, still I have my doubts about it but probably some more security will be built overtime. What if I dose off now, get some human sleep, and get up in the morning and attempt if not to change the world, to clear the piles of shit of my life and one good day just get out of the storm and live? Lead a life?
Sounds good no?
Well let's do it for once at all. I'm too young to let myself die, too old to think about fatalist ends and too smart to let it all go to waste. My great grand father said one day I'd be a wise in the Holy Land, hence here I am. Unmovable like oceans.
It's not time for heavy decisions, for fatalisms and for ultimate purposes. Let's live one hour at a time, bear what we can for the house and defer the rest for the next hour or two. Slowly I'll be able to live one day at a time and so on back and forth. Maybe one day soon or not I'll get out of all this shit, and maybe Isobel will just turn up. Poetry doesn't only talk about regretful past, also pretends to change the unavoidable future, let us change the future for there's no present, so in that order of ideas the future can be altered.
Tomorrow the story will go on, the story behind this screen the story beyond this screen and also behind. We'll see where I'll be in a week or in a month from now. As from this morning this country and its armies and its cronies will realize I do exist. How could be a thinker like me unheard of in his own country midway his sorrows? It makes no sense, and no need to fight against life for justice in order to achieve that. It seems just natural. I've just done what I've got to do, history has stood by me, men will too.