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In the Pink

סוטה, חמודה, ובלונדינית ברמות. ראו הוזהרתם. 8-)

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"But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night"
Khalil Gibran

It was beautiful to live"
when you lived!
The world is bluer and of the earth
at night, when I sleep
enormous, within your small hands."

Pablo Neruda
לפני 12 שנים. 30 במרץ 2012 בשעה 18:45


It’s the simple things in life that are often the most pleasurable, and usually the ones that keep me sane.

This works on pretty much every level – whether I’m spending time with those I care about [because we are related by blood] or whether I’m at the southern end of a particularly vicious-looking was-once-a-kitchen-utensil-but-is-now-a-pervertible [because this is the kind of thing that does it for me big time] or whether I am sitting and relaxing with the BBC when all around is a joyous carnival of celebration.

It’s all good.

The world, by contrast, whenever things go well, tends to double its efforts to fuck up on every level. I tend to ignore it, finding that a self-imposed news blackout serves my psyche somewhat better than constant attention – it’s like a two year old; ignore it, and it will come to its senses eventually. Even if it doesn’t, the (albeit enormously simplistic) approach I take is that until the bomb is dropped, and as long as myself and those near and dear to me (blood-connection or otherwise) have their health, I’m best off blundering along, buggering things up as normal, just like everybody else**.

I’m good at denial – have I mentioned? River in Egypt be damned.

With all the crap surrounding us, it’s important to focus on the tiny moments of joy. Buying my daughter something to make her smile. Watching my son achieve MVP status for the umpteenth time (it’s my opinion that he is the next big thing for his chosen sport because I’m his mother, but from the comments of the other mostly male parents, his coach and others who Know Their Shit, my opinion happens to be right). Stealing a rare but precious and unexpected hug from the BBC in the middle of the day.

It may not repel Ahminajad, that bloodthirsty hatemonger with the worst Napoleon complex since… well, Napoleon.

It may not retrieve Bibi’s head from up his ass.

It may not even untie Obama from the knots into which he has wound himself between campaign promises and reality.

But it keeps me smiling… and for that, I can only be happy.

A gutte shabbes, y’all.


** Thank you, Victoria Wood. 😄


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