The Israel-Palestine conflict sucks.

I'm losing friends faster than I make them.

This whole Arab-Israeli conflict thing which I'm supposed to be researching is really getting to me. I didn't realize that I would lose so much of my normal life outside of being Ehud Olmert, but I find myself putting off my friends, trying desperately to stay rooted in normal life instead of worrying about the conflict every day. I'm so physically unattached to the conflict in any way, but in some perverse little way, it's become a dismal part of my life.

And I can't even claim to understand the conflict. All I can claim is that thinking about it so much is making me angry. It's made me denounce religion to the point of hatred. And at the same time, my mood swings and depressive tendencies have led my mom to tell me that I need to stop placing my friends in such high regard and I need to start believing in something. She clearly insinuates religion. I'm only mildly offended because I know she has good intentions.

But at the same time, why should I ever place my friends in such a low regard? I felt particularly horrible yesterday night when I realized that I had maybe 5 real friends and no explanation why. And her response was that people tend to end up with only one real friend as they age. So I thought to myself, what the hell is the point of life?

Maybe that's what happened to the Palestinians and Israelis. Maybe they couldn't deal with the prospect of having no friends so they started to believe in nothing but hatred towards the enemy...they live for nothing else! Religion aside; this is no religious war anymore, or even a geographical war. No, I am almost convinced that the Arab-Israeli conflict is a war of ethics.

And today I became so frustrated with my state of mind that I ended up bitching about nothing. I complained about nothing...about the prospect of being unhappy for the rest of my life and the lack of real friends. When she told me I was being self-centered, vain, and unrealistic, I panicked. I panicked because firstly I was scared she was right. She was right, though. I do think of myself too much. I also panicked because I had the notion that she would forever know me as the self-centered, vain, unrealistic kid that can do nothing but sit on his ass and complain.

But that doesn't keep me from complaining about nothing. Oh, look at me! Right now I have everything I'd ever want! I have a house, clothes, food, and most of all, I have opportunity. I thought of the Israelis who feel so physically insecure that they keep M16 rifles in their trunks, or the Palestinians who are so engrossed in their own hatred that they would be willing sacrifice their own life to annihilate others. And I'm complaining because there's something wrong with my life that I can't even identify.

Something tells me that when these debates are over, I'll feel a lot better.

___________

Star-crossed lovers quit West Bank

By Matthew Price BBC News, Jerusalem

The couple married three years ago after meeting in Jerusalem

She is a 26-year-old Jewish Israeli. Her name is Jasmine Avissar. He is a 27-year-old Palestinian Muslim, Osama Zaatar.

Jasmine and Osama's is a love story, and it tells you so much about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. They met when they worked at the same place in Jerusalem, and three years ago they got married. First they tried to live in Israel, but the Israeli authorities would not allow Osama to join his wife there. Then they tried living in the occupied West Bank, but some Palestinians made life difficult for them. Now they've given up and are moving to Europe.

Strangers

"We ran out of choices of finding any solution to live in either Israel or Palestine," says Jasmine as she packs her bags.

"We were naive and thought we could win this fight but we can't. So we have to go abroad and start a new life."

Jasmine We were naive and thought we could win this fight but we can't Osama The moment I decided not to be part of the mainstream I was told that I was not a part of my country anymore

Jasmine already has permission to go. Osama hopes to follow her soon. We go up onto the roof of their village home. The sunlight is so harsh you have to squint to look at the view. Stone walls hold earth terraces onto the hillsides, olive trees hundreds of years old are dotted across the landscape.

"I feel like a stranger here," says Osama. "Even in my homeland. This place is a holy land, but they're killing each other. It's like it's already a lost cause."
"Here there's no chance. I just want to start again."

Under investigation

They are an almost unique couple. Neither Israeli nor Palestinian society has accepted their marriage. On official Israeli documents, Jasmine tells me her marital status is described as "under investigation".

"Our marriage was a human thing. We just fell in love," says Jasmine. "The society around us is making it political."

"I feel like a refugee. The moment I decided not to be part of the mainstream I was told that I was not a part of my country anymore."

A taxi turns up, and Osama helps Jasmine with her bags. The drive takes them through occupied Palestinian lands. They pass a tall grey Israeli army watchtower. They drive through army checkpoints. Israel has been in control here for almost 40 years.

Given up

"Even here in Osama's homeland I am superior as an Israeli," says Jasmine, as she looks out the window.
"It's easier for me to move around. The soldiers let me through checkpoints. They don't arrest me like they might arrest Osama."

A final embrace at the Israeli checkpoint Osama is banned from crossing

Jasmine has given up on her own country. "Jewish people were abused for thousands of years, but my nation has switched from being victims to being abusers.

"That's hard for me to acknowledge. The Jewish people are occupiers now, and we are racist."

The car arrives at a final checkpoint. We stand next to it, and Osama tells me why he has also given up on his own people.

"There were threats. People said if I brought my wife here we'd be in danger. Even my friends said that. They say I am a traitor."

"It makes me wonder whether I want to be a Palestinian any more. Some see me as some sort of Israeli envoy. It's a shit feeling."

Seeking safety

They turn and walk the short distance to the checkpoint that leads out of the West Bank and into Israel. They put down their bags, and hug one another. There's a short kiss. I ask Osama what he hopes for from his new life.

"I want to be able to walk in the street and not be stopped by the Israeli army or police. I want to feel safe. I have never felt that."

Jasmine smiles. "I just want to be a normal couple, with normal problems about rent, and money. I don't want to have these huge gigantic problems interfering in our marriage."

Even now though they are not quite free. Osama cannot go through the checkpoint with Jasmine. They don't know when he will be able to join her in Europe. They are still a couple caught in the middle of the Israeli Palestinian conflict.

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Tuesday

Granted, it's not Tuesday, but I thought I'd write about what happened at lunch.

It's funny how I find so much to write about so little. So at lunch the French exchange group had a lunch meeting about personal accounting vs. group accounting. (Capitalism versus communism, basically.) And capitalism won by a landslide in just ten minutes after Sasha's concerns got widely ignored.

Then for the next forty minutes, Therese insisted on us continuing to argue the topic. So then a couple people (I won't name names, since arguing when there's nothing to argue about is a common symptom of pigheadedness) decided that we should continue to reiterate the same point (group accounts keep work from being fair!) a couple dozen times. Then someone would interject about a new idea, and Therese would immediately dismiss it on the grounds of "it's been decided!"

So what were we arguing? Someone please tell me.

Things got better around 3:00 when I went down and ran into Lukas and Maddy at Juna's. I couldn't stick around since I was meeting Simon for a snack. I allocated a vast majority of my day's money on Sammy's cheese pizzas and went home a couple pounds heavier.

Oh and other all that shit outside of school, my day was pretty much a wreck for reasons unknown. It still bothers me that I don't know what's bothering me so much. Hmm. If that sentence is any indication of what's wrong, then I don't know how I'm gonna get myself out of this self-perpetuating loophole of um, being bothered.

Um. Yeah.

And yes, I'm in the mood for something sunny.

Telepopmusik? Electronica's not the first thing you think of when you hear the word "sun," but it'll do.

Telepopmusik - Breathe

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Spill/Simplicity?

as if i left my sanity at home
i part with Juna's door
one hand on the handle
one on my existence
i take five steps forward
aimless steps
worthless steps
five bricks forward
that do nothing
but to deprive
me
of life
as my life
my life
falls out of my
hand
falls out of my
and fills the cracks
in the street so i go back in
to grab another one for
one dollar and
twenty-five cents

_________

First day home?

Feels like shit. I can't function today. You know what it feels like?

Okay. So think of a great big can of Dr. Pepper, all shaken up and ready to blow. And think of, instead of opening the top, suddenly the can is turned inside out and the gas dissipates ingloriously.

Oh, and simplicity? Ah, yes, the ever-so-elusive New Years resolution that's put somewhere on your list, and forgotten just as you realize that you want to keep the byproducts of life. You want to stay an incorrigible pack rat, hold on to the trash that accumulates in your house, or your computer, or your mind. It won't go away, because in reality, you don't want it to.

But I do. I want it out. Last month I remember sitting here at Juna's cafe after school, telling myself that I was scared of change. I told myself that I'd never feel the same way, that there was no way I could revert to my stagnant self. But weeks, later, I'm thinking to myself, where's the change? What have I to be scared of? What's happened to me?

On the bright side, my dreams have disappeared altogether. Sleep is a void.

Vicious cycle? Maybe. But if it's not change, then what is it? Am I complaining too much?

Am I thinking too hard?

__________

Oh, theres a change. This is odd...there's a line at Ned's Pizzeria.

And after watching this video, you can't say you don't have any respect for JT.

Come on people.

__________

“i'm convinced you're sad”

an unexpected response?

not really; predisposition is not

a crime

is it?

I want to dream beautiful thoughts.

I want to dream beautiful thoughts tonight.

I want to get rid of the tortured men and the suffering kids and the ruined school and the hopeless friendships and the unrequited love and the broken lives. I want to stop having to wake up wondering whether I had just watched a man starve to death because I couldn't help him, or if I had really permanently ruined a friendship because I talked too much, or had sex with a girl I didn't want to do it with because there was nothing I could do to feel better.

I've always been a slave to my dreams, trying to keep in touch with them as much as possible. Reality? It's a mask you put on. Your dreams are you...the real you. They are your manifestation of true art: self-expression at its most self-revealing. And they tell stories, stories that are left in the back of your mind waiting to be written.

And good dreams, like good art, are a commodity. But sin or not, sometimes one must take pleasure in bad dreams. It helps you stay in touch with reality.

But I'm sick of it. I don't want them anymore. I'm real enough. I want to go home.

Goodnight. Much love,
- Mirko

Unfamiliarity can never be good

"I want to sleep with you. But I don't want to have sex with you, I just want to sleep with you, next to you.We need to talk." She agrees. We need to talk. Given that it is a dream and nothing else...I can rationalize it myself and it will go my way no matter how selfish or immoral it may be. But there’s the advantage, the great pleasure, in fantasy. It’s no one’s but yours.

As I speak to her, there's a storm outside trying to so rudely interrupt me. The building is dark. It doesn't feel like the same ACS I always knew. It's unfriendly, cold, even a bit mysterious. Holding hands, we turn away from the commotion outside the foyer and go downstairs to my favorite part of the building with the big metal heater. But there are people all over the place, so I take her to the next room over. The old ESL room. The sunroom. We don't talk. We only stare at each other. Contrary to my request, we quietly proceed to have sex.

- My dream, December 21, 2006

__________

I cried last night. For a long time.

But it's not the tears that bother me. It's the lack of reason. I cried for nothing, but. All I can say was that it felt good. I've probably just felt worse than ever the last few days.

When did I get so temperamental?

That night I was plagued by an odd dream that took place at ACS. Occuring in recursion, I kept saying those words. I don't know if I said anything else in my dream, but that's all I remember.

I also woke up at least twice during the night, and had a case of conscious paralysis. A frightening experience, if any of you have ever experienced it before. It kind of makes you not want to go back to sleep.

I'm about to shut off my computer and try to go to sleep again, but I don't know how much help that would be.

Love,
- Mirko

___________

On another note, I fucked up my unit final essay for Facing History.

On yet another note, I found out how to add comments.

Change

Chilled at Bela's for lunch with Simon and Sasha, and played some Xbox. We ended up being late for French class, but so was everyone else. I love ACS. We are not a real school.

___________

I'm sitting exactly opposite the place I normally sit here. It's awkward, it's weird, but it's not as disorienting as I thought it would be. The orange couch is across the atrium from me, and there sits a man working on his MacBook Pro. I don't know why...I just prefer a window seat today. There's more clarity here than there is over there.

I've been feeling less than happy recently. I don't really know what it is with me, and what's making me so depressed, but it's this very...odd...confused feeling. And I think I know what it is.

Could it be? Could it be that I'm just afraid of change? Of growing up?

Of course, Mirko. It's totally natural. It's a very human thing to do, to be scared of shifts in your existential rhythm.

But it's not natural for me. It's not something I've ever had to be scared of. And I think I know why I've suddenly changed my mind. Recently, I had never been so happy about the way things were, and there was my mistake. I had become so settled in the world I lived, that when I realized that it would eventually have to change, I began to panic.

I want to offer myself a way to settle this. But every solution is temporary. I don't think I'll ever be so content again. It's not reassuring, but it's gonna help me accept it.

But me? Scared of change?

That's right. I am. I've very afraid.

___________

http://www.sculleydesign.com/ - This is some of the best art I've seen in a while. Some absolutely beautiful paitings and some just as cool graphic design. If I was a painter, that's what I would be most proud of painting.

ALSO...

Italy bans skinny models - I know all the health risks and shit involved if it doesn't go ahead, but I think it's also the destruction of a tradition.

Adieu, all you anorexic models...