The Great Escape

At the Diaspora Museum in Tel Aviv. The past few days have felt like I'm living on an alternate plane, full of rips, tears and gaping holes. And as for the past... it was just a colored and striking mirage. Like bones being glued together, spinning against the eyes of Ezekiel in the middle of the desert.

And I don't want to go home, but I certainly don't want to stay here (where the cobble stones still smell of history mixed with sunlight). I only want to run back to the canals and as soon as I get home I am going to find a book and find a way (away)...

I am re-writing my life... The Great Escape.