Raincoat (Writings from inside a sleeve)

When I was a child , on heavy winter days,I would sometimes “lose” my hand inside my raincoat sleeve. Then mom or dad would take their hand and reach deep into the sleeve of the raincoat, pull my hand out from there and say with a big smile “Here’s Yuval hand!”

It’s a while now that I feel like that hand, lost inside a raincoat sleeve.

Yesterday I decided -I stop waiting for someone to pull mee out and start little by little, sometimes even a millimeter a day, to do it by myself .

Today I realized that Trying to get it out of there by myself is like trying to draw a picture on the sand of the beach, at the point where the waves break again and again.

I need help. I know I am the only one who can get this lost hand out of the sleeve, but being the only one who has the power doesn’t help me if I can’t remember anything as soon as another wave comes.

The wave

And then it comes, The wave.I can’t function. Im gripping the meatal railing of the roller coaster tightly, the one that the attendant instructed us to hold just before activating the ride. Nothing changes, as if life has frozeen in a singular moment of fear. An endless free fall Thoughts

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Elephants

My mother was diagnosed with cancer when I was nine. She fought through three rounds of the disease until the last one, when she finally raised her hands in surrender, allowing it to consume her—slowly—until it carried her beyond existence. From my perspective, this timeline began when I was nine

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Being

Imagine a situation where being with yourself is an unbearable experience,but not as unbearable as being in the company of anyone else.It’s like being a fish allergic to water,or a leaf allergic to the tree,or a wave allergic to the sea,or a ray of sunlight allergic to the sky,or simply

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