Well you know a shower always acts wonders on you... after a few hours of desperate and outrageous riping-off craving I think I feel much better, I certainly do. I'm just tired, very tired... more like exhausted. I've been tired since the moment I got up and it's been like that for a few days... well you know summer is not really my kind of thing.
All morning I spent very sad, very sad... a bit of desperation in the sadness as well. I don't seem to find an order in anything here, it's still an ordeal and it's terribly difficult for me to get used to the apartment... don't know... it wasn't like this when I moved into my apartment in good 'ol Ramat Gan. Now it's very different, I just feel a stranger here, and now to make the affair even worse Suzy tells me I have to leave in 6 months... well I knew something had to go wrong but let's look at it possitively... the place will constitute nothing but a stop between two lives, between chapters and between two persons... between Ari the fighter and the wife of the journalist... between Sophocles and Elliot. Doesn't it sound interesting enough?
Where will I be living in 6 months? in which part of the city or in which city? Will I be the wife of a journalist or a wife at all? What will I look like? This is so interesting... I can't recognize myself, never really did.
Where will Tel Aviv be in 6 months? Will I be alive? Will I be happier? And my journalist? Will he be around or will be have fused into the clouds like everyone else? Such thought causes me a tremblor. It's like living a period of my life with no history, no plot, no background and no stage, a bit of an spectator regardless the wordliness.
Will I ever leave this country and fight back my fate like an Antigone of my times? Finally she's always been my favourite tragedy. Someone who surrendered to fate more than she did to history, and probably for that I'll be always indebted to Kaltsidou, again we return to the polar circle... the Romantic spirit. A frozen smell to the Acropolis and to the Theban palaces, a frozen smell to the river and a frozen smell to the Logos.
Will I ever be a philologist? will people ever read these lines? Will Ofer ever return to my arms? Or will I contemplate sunsets in stranger's arms? in my own arms? Will I stop fighting against my own land and my own people and stop being at odds with her for once at all?
Only 6 months.... 6 months will bring the answers. 6 months will bring the different tastes of victory and defeat. 6 months will bring the bitterness of time and fate all down on me. 6 months... only 6 months.
Ari
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