מחוכים ועקבים

Iceberg
I live mostly in my head. Adventures in places I’ve never visited or seen, affairs with people I’ve never met, but know better than I know myself, I live a full life without having an asset.

Reaching 28 is not dramatic for me, more of a traumatic- hyper- active reminder, of the things I wanted to do, but still haven’t, the life I wanted, but don’t live. So I tell stories to myself, outer events and causes, which prevent a deferent present, not better, just deferent, make me homesick to a home I don’t have.

Optimistic outlook on life, from a fairy-tale raised child, do not help the cold cynicism called reality. Going from semi-sweet semi-bitter childhood, to vindictive, to reasonably balanced life, going back to bitter-sweet childhood at very soon 28, is a very bad episode of “Freaky Friday”, through my life is a slow form of self mutilation. You are aware of what you do but will not lift a finger, to act otherwise.

The belief in fairy tail endings is as brutal as life itself. A child of 5 is the decision maker in my life.

As for last years joke of “tragic 27”, was not funny, this was the year I thought of suicide the most, not in a romantic way, “Romeo and Juliet” style, but just to “end it all”, thinking, what’s the point? All is out of my hands and I refuse to pull anyone’s strings, so why not? End it all? Whenever I want.

Picture this! A 28 year old woman’ believes in fairy-tales, lives in Tel Aviv, and NO! I am not a masochist, having said that’ I refuse to change or loose my identity in the local dating games, I won’t stop believing in fairy-tales and surely refuse to grow up.
Even if it means living my life in my head, under water…
Iceberg