cutting great neck

21/01/09

i don't know. i just don't know.

everybody knows my name in school. they all recognized my face. they speak to me. someone walks past me, asks me, 'are you gadi cohen?'. i tell them, 'no, i'm george.'

'i'm george.'

i'm starting to think i'm george.

i just... don't know.

don't know how--how i live like this. how nobody knows anything about me, how i don't know anything about me. i'm like sylvia plath--all alone, enclosed in my own bell jar, me and my music, me and my poems, my and my life. i work towards a goal--for what? what cause? to make my parents happy? to make myself happy? these are the best moments of my life, and i'm wasting them because nobody loves me. and it's true.

nobody loves me.

because this is america. this is israel. this is world. and nobody cares about anyone.

sometimes i feel like i'm the only person here who is utterly alone. not physically alone--i have friends. but mentally. all on my own. in a territory that no one has marked before.

two senior girls kidnapped me yesterday. into their house. i entertained them. brooke, tiffany. red-hair, persian. short, tall. they think i'm their friend. they drove me home. they're fun.

they don't know who i am.

i don't know who i am.



but frank sinatra is helping me.

does everyone else feel like that?



-------------------------

i explored the world today.



a day of exploration.

i went into the little closet--storage space, whatever you want to call it--and looked through the crap of Jane.

Jane, oh Jane! I am reliving you,
your childhood,
like you always wanted to do
yourself.

And although I don't know you,
I understand you.

I understand you.

an old stone wolf's head;



a naked marble woman lying on a 70's-style metal cabinet;

lamp skeletons collecting dust.



the cold frightened me.

i love, hate life.

label me: friends, melancholy, moving, music, poem, social life