Sunday, March 04, 2007

The Kah-nee and the Kah-nife

These knees of mine, particularly the right one.
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Over Shabbat I climbed the stone-tiled steps. Click. Click. "Am I 26?" I thought to myself. Click Click. My left foot lead me. Pop. Click Click. Pop. Click Click Pop Crack.
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You skate for a second and next thing you know. The knee injuries from too many basketball games, too many street hockey sessions, too many back flips and backhand-springs come forth like a memory that you put in the closet when you where 17.
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The weekend was beautiful. Beautiful enough that it rose me out of bed at seven in the morning, gave me a coffee and let me take a blanket out into the yard at the Eyal's house to read. I literally studied all day, and when the sun became too hot, I retreated for a nap inside.
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There's something that disturbs me about coming home to Eyal's. and it's not the memory of Tsiki, for that is something i've lived with every moment of my days for the last three years. It's remembering the time i lived in the house. When we were all suffering and handling it in different ways. It was remembering a time when a warm home changed and became cold and lonely for all of us. Where every shower i had were made of tears and longing and the dread of getting up. I am looking forward to experiencing more Shabbats there, so I can slowly change the memories of the last years.
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I've been consumed by reviewing what I am learning. I read all day until I felt tired enough for a nap. There is something I love about studying- it brings amazing dreams. This time, I dreamt of a long table, with all my friends- but they were faceless. I was there to only serve them dessert and I had special homemade ice cream made for them all. As I scooped it out- I realized I only had a serving for one person. And so I gave it to P Bonez. I then walked to the freezer and pulled out a container of Strawberry ice cream and served everyone else. I guess this is the time I learn to serve chocolate to everyone.
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Pop. Crack. Crack. Click Click. Crack.

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