There was a time when we had no words for all this. It just happened and we were in the thick of it, watching, thinking something, anything but without words. Did this really exist? Perhaps it did, but what about inside our heads. Sure, all the time. It was the wordless time. In all sorts of situations we would just look at each other wide-eyed, shaking our heads, unable to say much but “no words”. Brutality, madness, no words, really. This was our poem of bliss. It expressed our amazement, our admiration of the overwhelming, the stunning of the simple and unspectacular but somehow monumental moments, which we lived and that pervaded us. The sensation that nothing could possibly be more amazing, that we had never experienced anything similar, and so on… 

(Don’t forget to go home) 


In memory of Mashu Mashu (Part I)

The Voice of Peace  |  صوت السلام  |  קול השלום     

...from somewhere in the Mediterranean

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