Summer

The nights are hot again.

Hot, moist, sticky and alive. I leave the air conditioned house and enter the welcoming folds of humid air outside.
This is weather for doing things.

I am as restless as the crickets and dogs outside.

Tomorrow morning I will get up early and start another (albeit late) week in the army.
I am restless.
I want to wake up and know I've got to accomplish art, or a big personal project. not a 5 hour ride to the army, where pressure, impatience and stagnating mindsets come to play.
I am not at home there.

I want to be the best at what i do so I can prove to myself I'm worthy of....something, no matter what it is I do.

But what i'm doing now is not what I want to do with myself. certainly not for the next year and a half.

Currents of anarchy and rebellion keep on stirring just beneath the surface. it's all I can do to supress them, to cary on with my tasks and wait for the weekends, which are always too short and sparse to let them vent out.

the fact that I don't want to supress them makes this all the more difficult. I want to shout out and be myself. I want to lash out.

maybe i'm just too much of a good boy, and I'm using this army thing as an excuse to stay one.

I doubt it.

I want to be free. Do things and not be afraid of the reprecussions.
I'm not afraid of being arrested and detained at a police station overnight, I'm afraid that if I will, i'd be too exauhsted the following week in the army.

I want to lead a rebellion. I want to shake the foundations of convention.

I want to be me. Not the rank, not the uniform, not the title, not the job description.

I want to shout out my inner being, and see the world cringe.


so what do i do?
do I just up and leave?

North

The journey north hasn't started yet. Soon i will start tracing the lines of rivers, ridges and mountains in my movement. I am at the gate. Around me people are gathering provisions and taking their last whiffs of air before the ordeal ahead, eating roasted meats and flat bread-the last civilised morsels they'll eat before returning to the harsh diet the north has to offer. Leaving civilization behind.

Afula, central bus station, bus 847, north.