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Starblower (starblower) wrote,
@ 2002-12-27 14:06:00
Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Add to Topic Directory  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry

    Current mood: awake
    Current music:Bright Eyes - The City Has Sex

    Let us sing the international.
    So yesterday Nitay (much beloved boyfriend) and I went to a sort of house gathering of a forsaken communist party. They're so poor and unheard of that they've gained only 2200 votes on the previous election. He went because this girl from his work forced him, and I went... because? I thought it'd be really boring, so I brought my discman along, even though that's really impolite.

    It wasn't boring... For once there was free tea and coffee, which never fails to cheer me up. There were cookies too, but not vegan, so. Yeah. Anyway, in that creepy apartment in the creepier neighbourhood of Florentine, there sat 2 old communists, the girl from work and her roommate, one guy from Indymedia (he claimed he formed Adbusters Israel, but nobody seemed impressed), 2 students, one kid who contemplated not going to the army and, er, Nitay and me.

    They talked for a long while. All of their political principals, 1) No to the occupation, 2) Fight the unemployment 3) Fight for global justice, seemed the logical thing every Israeli citizen should support. Yet there is no way those good communist people would be elected to the Kneset anytime soon.

    Israel is fucking... just fucking. Its neighbours and itself. And mainly the Palestinians.

    Israel can fuck off. I'm going to London! I really am.

    Oh, the roommate of the girl from work, Orit, suggested I'd stop by someday at their art centre in Jaffa where they work with local kids. It's weird I should say local, since Jaffa is like.. 5 minutes from here. But it's worlds apart. I know, I did my national service there. I really want to go, it sounds like one good thing I can do with my time instead of pretending to look for a job.

    Jeez... was that entry boring or what? I'm so incoherent those days it's embarrassing.



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