I want to eat big breakfasts. Like on a holiday. With scrambled eggs and avocado salad and vegetable salad and black bread. I want to start the morning with an enormous breakfast and eat it leisurely, no stressing out.
I’m sick of being stressed out. I want to take my time so I can make my time. I want to work hard, but not like a maniac. The Europeans I met here work four days a week, go home at six and don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.
I want to watch less TV. I haven’t watched any for six months, I don’t miss it at all.
I want to live in nature. And if that’s too complicated, then I want to at least leave Tel Aviv at weekends. I want to stand on the edge of something and see far into the distance, over the rainbow.
I want to get turned on by little things. Walking barefoot on the sand. Eating the cone after the ice-cream’s gone. Colourful graffiti on a dirty wall. New music I never heard before. Not shaving. Shaving after a long time of not shaving and running my hand over my smooth cheek. I want to get turned on by all those little things. Not to let them pass me by without noticing them.
I want love. For too long now, I’ve been using my split from Adi as an excuse and now, after those two weeks with Nina, I know that I don’t have to settle for kiss-fuck-we’ll-talk-tomorrow-bye.
I want to read more. Ride my bike more. Get on better with my sister. I want to look people in the eye more. Speak the truth more.
And, besides, I want to go home.