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Category: Words

Coney Island Oracle Buddy.

It was getting dark and windy when E and I got there. Sort of  somber-beautiful but wetcold. So we went to the worn down booths to see the only human around. The oracle. She told us things. She read my palm, yeah, while simultaneously speaking with some man on her cell, a stereo seer so to speak. She told him again and again with a high-pitched voice that he needed to go to “the clinic”. Then while lowering her voice she looked at my palm and then at me and slowly and quietly whispered “we need to work hard to pull out the darkness”. It was all sort of confusing. So I bought a little red stone at 90 % discount and took the train home and now Im just hoping for the best.

Bonne Anniversaire, Grattis, Mazal Tov!!!

Happy 80th birthday Grandpa! I wish you an amazing day! Heres a text I wrote about my grandpa that I have posted before but today I want to post it again:

At cousin Ls beautiful wedding, day before yesterday. He and Grandma flew in for the occasion. They are the coolest people I know. Wish I saw them more often. Grandpa. Sometimes, if Im stressed about something I think of what hes done.. He made it through the shoa and he grew up and became a surgeon and went to work all around the world and he saved lives in the most horrible conditions imaginable. Afghanistan, Cambodia, Guinea Bisau etc. Hes a real hero. Puts things in perspective.


Last night I dreamt some kind of judgementdayonlyforme-dream. I was standing on a shore. From the oceans came a giant man. Not human but with human features. He was coming to summon me. He had brought a large book that contained information about everything I had ever done. Tonight while working late I looked out the window.

There were all the empty, dark offices and there was this one. Looking at me through the window.


J and I are doing a project together. Its almost involving an unsacred church! So, I went to her place yesterday to discuss the things that needed discussing. We were in good company. M  was there, the lost then returned son of a cat, normally a loose canon, now, snooring on his back. And little guy L, sleepless, absorbed by the saddest lion he’d ever seen.

Its so close to where the wild things are.

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There was fire below and snow atop. There were the gentle whales, the sweet fruits, and as I was told, death in the shape of a young man on the black rocks. Tousled seaweed and black crabs on his glazed eyes. Empty but still with the surprised look that comes from being shot in the back. After the helicopter came and they took him away, lifting him upwards into the heavens, the crack of thunder and the heavy rain.

The Volcano.

One night on the island I went to last winter, I got to hang out with Ms F. She lives alone with her dog on top of an active volcano. The landscape up there is surreal, like a small, small dark planet. Vast, black and desolate except for her old trailer and the few greens she planted surrounding it. Imagine the trailer as a small dot in that immense dead terrain. The night sky, with fleeting clouds and still so many visible stars, connecting with the horizon in every direction. It was quiet except for her windchimes, and in the distans, the giant waves hitting rocky shores far beneath the plateau. And the huge cloud of fire. Erupting constantly. The magic of that night.

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