nevJournal2

And due to me being pretty sure that i’m not going to fly abroad anytime soon, i should sell this very suitcase. I should as well give up the vacuum cleaner. Who’s vacuum-cleaning anyways? Must be some habit i inherited from my parents. Around here in Israel, so i’m told, one uses a broom and a mop.

Haven’t been looking at the collection of comics and graphic novels for years, they serve no purpose besides attracting dust. Sentiments is a nice thing, but everything is available anyways – on the net. That goes for sentiments as well.
The trusty laundry machine has been doing its job well so far, but i still have to dry the laundry by hanging it in the apartment, and since living in the Tel-aviv Ghetto, might as well fit in as one of the other bubble kids and sit once a week at the laundromat in Ben-yehuda street. When i drive by on the bicycle, there’s always that fresh flowery smell. Speaking of that bicycle…

This table here is old-fashioned and ugly, and that chair is breaking my back. I sit on one like that for most of my waking hours, so i’d rather throw its clone outta here, out of my castle.
And what about the bed?
I don’t even want to sleep here. I want to sleep on the bench in the boulevard, where you can hear the bats having nightly disco parties, where you can listen to people saying, or listen to people asking, or just listen.
I want you to sit beside me on the bench, and tell me a story.
Then you’ll put your hand on my shoulder and whisper in my ear that it’s time to go home.