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Well I don't really know what to think, I really wish there was nothing to think about, but still even now, in my selective allienation I'm in unrest. Yesterday Oren (Oren #1) was visiting me and well the guy was telling me about the story of his ex-wife. I really didn't have anything to say, I found out how similar his story was to mine, or better say her story to mine. I felt a bit discouraged but that's just the way things are, I really can't change anything at the moment.

Only got to sleep this morning almmost at 4 am, a bit uncomfortable... as if the place wasn't really mine, as if something would bother me very deeply about this place, about myself. Go figure.... I woke up several times kind of powerless and the late morning caught me totally unrested and distressed.

Like in the worst days I decided to go back and dive into my sleep again... half slept, half awake. Some people dies at 20 and gets buried at 80, go figure yourself out. I thought about my bank appointment, which still hasn't happened... and the hours slip away in swift movements, in any case today around 16:30 I'll be on my way there. In the end it was just me who got into the trouble, so I have to find a solution. Only God knows what it will be.

I wish I really didn't have to involve anyone in this complicated tale but probably it's time for some sincerity. Time to start over again with the letters and the complaints, with the struggle... against life, against my own history, against my blood. Some kind of obliged betrayal.

Suzy came to the apartment and it was a bit disappointing... the furniture is gone.... things that don't work here and there, etc. Nohing really interesting. Plus she says she intends to sell the apartment, huh? Just a few days after I moved in. I think there's no justification for this move. I feel a bit cheated on you know? I sort of knew it, I wouldn't live in this place for a long time... so let's see what the future brings and how it brings it. I don't know if I'll be able to remain here in this country for much longer, for long enough as to start enjoying it and my conscious attacks me late at night when I curdle up into the idea of leaving the place. I really became a part of it, just one of them.... but... maybe I came on the wrong moment in my life? under the wrong circumstances? I don't really know but my life in Israel seems to be an endless wrongdoing historial, it's almost criminal.

It seems most people's lives here are led the same way, but does it really mean I can cope with it? I'm not really sure. I'm a Jew anyway and I'm not glued anywhere... I'm an adventurer, but in the end of the day... ain't I somehow glued to my feelings? glued to my multiple loves and glued to my experiences? I wouldn't say I'm glued to the journalist for I certainly doubt if there's anything left in the zeal. Only time will tell and regardless of what I feel it'll the way life wants and that's a dead end.

I'm not an Odysseus neither an Antigone, who am I to fight these things? Maybe I'm not young enough anymore, maybe I'm not trying to outreach anymore. Could it be said I gave up?

I can't realize figure out myself living in the streets of Bogota or in any European city. Probably I can and it's not so difficult to get used to it (living in Israel is the biggest example) but I think I'm really fond of this place, my place in the world.... my spot. The place from where I can look at the world not in the eyes of anyone but me, the place from where I can overlook with the delicate touch of the long forlorn civilizations. Fear is eating me up everyday, is eating up my creativity, my lust, my vital energy, my life.... and I don't seem to be able to fight it in any other way than a sound frustration. A huge frustration. A huge frustration.

Ari