המתת השור

i will not try
14:15 12/11/09

and describe the tone of her voice ......
it can only be rendered by reality but nevertheless. i will try and render the magic of this instrument in my mind
when he met her in her birth coutry Roumania, Angela Georghiu captured Georges Solti 's admiration and she became an international star . she is today a woman of 44 and a beautiful one with long black and a perfect body.

but if la Callas sang like a bleeding soul, Angela Gorghiu is flying on the wings of a bird
she has this vibrato so intense in her vocal chords that it makes you the same effect than when you listen to a bird . one hears all the notes sung together but in a perfect pitch,

Life is a bitch, being 44 and one notices already certain weaknesses appearing here and there. you feel the decline . you feel the death of beauty,
you decipher it, it peaks in the corner like a bad promise and one knows that one day, she will be the shadow of herself.
This is human destiny. you are blessed by an exceptional gift and this gift is a fragile as a spring reinvented each year.

there is nothing more powerfull than Pavarotti singing La Turandot when he was young. all the rest of his career rested on this single recorded song...a masterpiece of art.
there is nothing better than Callas killing Scarpia in London and Paris
these are brief moments of blessing and existence.
one live this life with these moments.
and then it goes back to oblivion

. that night, life looked only like a series of events, blessed with pleasure and finishing beauty
i never had to choose between sex and art
i chose both


13:54 12/11/09

Soon his hand was within me and his tongue on my clitoris. he caressed it with his tongue and then came back to my lips to make me taste. when the sting of the leather hit my skin, I started to fly. I flez to this place with a nowhere essence as vast as night sky, i had no longer any desire to control,. my main goal, being penetrated and taken. he could rape, i was a willing victim and that he did
with an enormous elecrical dildo. sometimes, it hurt too much so i groaned and he stopped.
Sometimes, shreds of conscience flew back and i got afraid ..... and then i thought of the driver waiting downstairs for me to be fucked and finished. i knew he knew but i did not care.
i came here to be consumed and that's all.
so i let him go on and plunder my body,
i groaned and moaned under the caress of his tongue on my vagina. i groaned and moaned under his fiinger inside me. i was hot and excited i was no more than that beautiful sex object giving up her mind to the this sentation of pleasure, not thinking not planning, not fearing just moaning under the pleasure of my flesh utilized by his will

he sodomized me. i did not come. orgasms are for the intimates, when they can cuddle in one eachother's arms afterwards, because it is such an emotional moment. but i escaped for a moment in pure space, in pure silence and in pure pleasure.

when i had my blindflod removed, we both were smiling and he asked me : "would you like to have two more partners with us,?
there was need for an answer
630 and I had to leave. i left as i came: , like a shadow who begged for her pint of flesh. i had become human again, a human unfinished


I met her at the corner of the concert hall.. everytime she comes to Israel, this journalist and i share a passion for music discovery.
tonight, for the first time in israel was this opera singer, Angela Giorghiu singing for the philarmonic orchestra, the special guest of Zubin Metha.
i never thought i could find two tickets for this is such a rare event
she is a formidable singer one of the caliber of la callas, these that once you hear her, it leaves a trace in your mind m in your heart
Martine too was touched



13:30 12/11/09

he did not loose his mind. everyhting was new in his flat. new, big and well groomed. he had told me very little of himself. Even his first name i did not know,
so he took me to his bedroom and soon i was naked lying on his bed but with my high heeled shoes on and my hair spread on the sheets.

then i plunged with a magic passivity , a sweet surrender...why did it have this effect on me. ?
the answer is not so complicated. How can i resist a man who has admired my breast for more than two years and who had wispered with a trembling voice in my ear : "you are even more beautiful in reality than on picture"
when men speak of women's beauty.
so i closed my eyes and open my legs.
he locked both my hands to the sides of the bed, put a blindfold on my eyes, a gag, carefully spread my hair around my head like a blond crown and secured my still shoed feet on a cross at the other end of the bed. he had secured a ring on each of my nipple to a chain and given it by a third one to be held by my mouh so that saliva was freely dribbling from the corner of my lips
he kissed me now a quick kiss and then proceeded to the open legs, i feld his hand seperating the upper lips of my cunt, delicately, like a swollen flower so that he could attached to it small pinces... it did not hurt, it just felt completely opened to his desire and they, i could feel were swelling like a water tide, he pulled out my inner lips and carressed them slowly murmuring : i love your lips, they are big..." and it increased my surrender. but the most sensuous was this picture in my mind of an ivory field spread open to his touch with my mouth commanding the fate of my breasts and nipple. if he hurt me, i would hurt too in the nipples. If i was in delight, my tongue was commanding this pleasure up to the end of my breasts

13:06 12/11/09

actually, I could only be fucked for a few hours only as i had a concert added to the same shabbat evening and i could not figure what to sacrifice really .the sex or the concert.
so i decided to choose and go to both

when i arrived to his place, i told him :"you have between 1 hour to 2 hours maximum"
we looked for his place in PT for almost an hour. a place that looked like a branch of the moon with uppermiddle class blocs made for tenants who wanted first and foremost a buzzer at the entrance of their buildings, a marble hall and a lift.
it was impressive, they all looked the same.
of course the street had a name but one could guess its geography was the fruit of a planned structure on paper, certainly not that of history. of course, you had a ben gourion avenue and it was a main street, all around it, the names were that of illustrious unknown jewish fellows..
like a city rising from the earth in a single season. and a name had to be put there.
within the floors, the corridor were surrendering already an atmosphere of a lost steps in a forsaken hotel. little light and every door looked the same .....i searched for a minute and then, one door opened. there he was. i was taller than him so i told him. we have 1one and a half and my driver is waiting for me downstairs,