Date: Tue, 22 Jan 2002 00:00:11 +0200 (IST)
To: My undefined mate
Spell Check in    

Hi.
Surprise! A mail from me. At the moment I'm still
considering whether I'm going to send it at all. I still
don't know what is about to come out and be written down. I
just feel the urge to write. A series of inspiring songs is
being played on the background. "How I wish, how I wish you
were here... we're just two lost souls swimming in a fish
ball year after year..." The truth is that the previous one,
"Alone Again" by G. O'Sullivan, moved me in a great extent.
Do you know that one? Shame I can't send you the file along
with the mail. Today technology has reached the level where
you can create the atmosphere in your mails. In any case,
would it be strange if I asked you to play it? And would it
be odd if I asked you to read this mail as late at night as
possible, when you're alone, immersed in your own thoughts
and reflections?
"To think that only yesterday I was cheerful, bright and
gay
Looking forward to who wouldn't do the role I was about to
play
But as if to knock me down, reality came around
And without so much as a mere touch
Cut me into little pieces, leaving me to doubt
Talk about God in His mercy if He really does exist
Tell me, why he desert me in my hour of need?
I truly am indeed
Alone again naturally"
I told you several times how I wish I could turn back time.
I would restore some order in my messy life. The problem is,
that you don't time when certain people spring up in your
life. It happens by a constellation of million
circumstances. I am always preoccupied by these peculiar
ideas. I come outside, and something can happen, and my life
can change entirely. But since greater people like Kundera
have already dealt with them, I'll leave them aside for
now.
Meeting new people or having new experiences can be
sometimes exquisite, astounding, fascinating. Just when you
least expect it, it's waiting around the corner. But in most
cases you end disenchanted. Life is dull. No meaning. No
purpose. Nothing. You are meaningless: a tiny, provisional
grain in the cosmos. And the world is so cruel.
What is all this blabbing, you may ask yourself? Or you may
feel the same.
There is a folded slip my ex gave me when we broke up, where
the words of "little bird" are printed:
"I look up to the little bird that glides across the sky.
He sings the clearest melody; it makes me want to cry.
I walk along the city streets, so dark with rage and fear,
And I, I wish that I could be that bird and fly away from
hear.
But my, my I feel so low
My, my where do I go?
My, my, what do I know?
My, my we reap what we sow.
They always said that you knew best
But this little bird fallen out of that nest now
I've got a feeling that it might have been blessed so I've
just got to put these wings to test -
For I am just a troubled soul who's weighted to the ground.

Give me the strength to carry on till I can lay this burden
down."
Oh damn. All my meander thoughts have turned to be a muddle
of indefinite obscure fragments. I want to say something,
but I'm too confused to find the exact words.  
I love the little time we spend together. For some reason I
mainly like to drive back home, alone in the car at 5
o'clock in the morning. I love these late night talks in
coffee bars. I even like Tel Aviv in a way, there is
something appealing, even magical in this nightlife. And
obviously, the discotheques blow my mind, bring me over the
moon. These are the only times when I feel out of touch with
everyday life. I feel as if I'm in a different atmosphere,
nothing bothers me. I'm like 16 again. It does remind me of
high school, when I used to go out a lot, sleep over at
friend's places and never think about the consequences of my
deeds.
But in the back of my mind it seems like it wont last, in
time it will come to an end. It feels like a twinge. Mainly
because our relations are tense. Less than before, and yet,
sometimes I wonder whether there is such thing as
"friendship" between a man and a woman. I mean, once you
become affectionate, you start seeing the other in a totally
different light. And then, one stumbling on the hope, and
-poof- you can say goodbye to your friend. I could foresee
it happening many times, and I'm glad it didn't. Besides,
when one is flustered it is one's own problem. In general I
feel like I stay in place for a few months already. I don't
know what I want. I have been living for 21 years already,
and all this time I had something to aspire; finish my
military service, obtain a driving license, get over with
the fucking semester, move out...I reached a point where I
stopped and said: "Wait a second, what am I doing running
everywhere in such a speed? What's next?" And I don't know
what is right and what is wrong. Instead of being the system
administrator of my own life, I'm being governed by my own
life. I don't know where to go, what to do, I have
contrasting compulsions: I want to explore the world, to
devour the world. And yet world is so cruel and I'm so weak
I want to go back to my hometown and have my mother take
care of me forever. What I do know is that my heart is
broken into pieces. That I miss him like crazy, so much that
I can't sleep at night. I MUST GET OUT OF THIS VICIOUS
CIRCLE! I wish I knew how.
You've been living seven years more than I do. What does the
world look like after seven years' time?
And I'm certain that time will come and you'll have your own
girlfriend/ partner/ wife/ whatever. You've said that you
define our relations as "intimate". Somehow when you will
(and you will) have your own girlfriend, your relations with
me won't seem to go along anymore.
I guess I have this guileless, simple, almost childish wish
to hear you say it will always be this way; we'll always
remain such friends. We'll always hang out together in
coffee bars and share our deepest feelings, like two 16 year
olds... In the adult world, the notion "forever" does not
exist. .
And now... shall I click "send"?