At Israelinsider, the gorgeous Orit continues to learn about reality. I find her progress up from party girl and artist fascinating. She may have been a fabulous right wing babe all along, I don't know. It may be contrived, but I don't care. If her articles for Israelinsider are fiction, it is pretty good fiction.
As an enthusiastic supporter of Olmert, a man who ordered people that I know and love to be physically wounded in Amona, he was stabbing me in the back. If I associated myself with those women on the rooftops of Amona, how could I trust him with my life, let alone my money? I again offered to discuss it at length over a beer, but he "wasn't in the mood." We haven't spoken since.
Then I started thinking about all my other "friends" who call me an extreme right-winger to my face, and I just don't care to be in their company anymore. They talk about boys and work, and all I talk about is Jewish kids getting beaten-up by brutal, cruel police. All I talk about is the fate of a wimpy nation that likes to tune out to the slaughter of its own citizens.
There's no use in my making new friends in Tel Aviv anymore. We live in the same city, but in different worlds.
Nor can I sit in cafes and bars with ease, either. They seem so shallow and empty to me. I used to get excited when I saw a new bar or cafe go up in the city -- I loved to see Israel develop ? but now I feel like shouting to the owners: "You're wasting your time! We're going to have a war on our hands soon and this cafי or bar is gonna go down with this country!" And I feel like shouting to the bar-goers, "Your time may be up soon, buddy -- is this how you want to be remembered?"
I don't understand how people can go on as usual anymore. These are not usual times, but they love to pretend that everything's normal.
Obviously I can't really talk to my Tel Aviv "friends" about the changes I'm undergoing. They wouldn't understand. They would call me brainwashed or crazy. Yeah, maybe I'm a little crazy.
I admit that. But I've accepted this new Orit that is emerging.
So I'm still sitting alone in Tel Aviv with no one to call and nothing really to do. But that's what I get for stripping myself of the nothingness. Here's hoping something, or someplace, or someone better will fill the void, the void that I'm finally proud to feel.
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