ego so high that when someone hates me i try to make it worse. like babe if you already hate me, i might as well give you a performance worth the price of admission. i’m not just gonna live rent free in your head. i’m redecorating the place. marble floors. venetian mirrors. velvet walls.
As a Jewish historian, I fucking hate Israel in ways most probably will never be able to comprehend. I'm going to try and explain it anyways. The central creation myth of Israel is that it is Jewish, and then consequently, that Israel is a part of Jewishness. Its easy to simply state this is false, but fully comprehending this and putting it into practice in thought and deed seems rare to me.
The evil at the heart of this violence predates the recent acceleration of genocide. Israel is a colony, and more than that, an antisemitic fraud itself. After WW2, when Israel was being founded, the Jews of Europe generally did not wave goodbye to their neighbors and head to the promised land. Many were expelled from their homes. Zionism itself, as an action, was a false choice at the time. A mere excuse to place an ally in the middle east, and an excuse to complete the expulsion and destruction of the European Jew. The Zionist Jew is more than complicit in this, they actively seek the destruction and assimilation of all other Jews.
Many fail to realize, and largely because of Israel, that Jews are not inherently white, Ashkenazi, European-descended people. Our faith and culture has an immense variety that is spread all across the globe. Jewishness, in population and volume of culture, exists more so outside of Israel than within it. Israel is for a very specific kind of Jew. The kind that lets Yiddish die, that attaches themselves to European things, that makes themselves and their practices as white as possible.
And they have the nerve, the fucking belligerent GALL, to frame themselves as the necessary saviors of our people. To the Zionist, questioning Israel is to question Jewishness itself. They bake adoration for the colonial machine into their very prayers, and push them on us even as children. To *not* oppress, to *not* kill, to *not* genocide, is to invite death. This is the core of fascistic thought, of course. "Kill them before they kill us." And they KNOW this too, they really do. The truth of that irony does not matter, because as is true for all fascists, the truth itself does not matter to them. They wanted this, they wanted this even before the British saw it in their best interest to give them the land. Any excuse to RETVRN, as the neo-nazis say of Rome, or the German Empire, or whatever the fuck stupid country they want to poorly animate the corpse of. Some select Zionists even *sided with the fucking Nazis* in agreement they should abandon Europe to colonize Palestine. (Haavara Agreement)
My people have proved time and time and time again you don't need a nation state to have an enduring culture. We have protected ourselves for thousands of years without the help of these spiteful, doom-saying maniacs. I was going to post something like this on Passover, but that would be hypocritical. The state of Israel doesn't actually have shit to do with Jewishness.
Hear Israel
(the state and supporters, Israel the icon)
I should outlive it long enough to bury it.
(old yiddish curse)
Free Palestine. Donate what you can, they need it right now.
(ID in alt text)
Each link in this post will lead to another post with further links to individual fundraisers, verification sources, and r
i don’t think people understand how much of life is grief. not just people dying, but losing the version of yourself you thought you’d become. grieving the city you had to leave. the friends you lost not in argument, but in silence. the summer that will never come back. the feeling that maybe you peaked at 12 when you were reading books under the covers and believing in forever
i keep thinking about this: maybe love isn’t a destination or a possession but an influence. a force that changes your shape. that helps you become. and when it’s gone, it doesn’t mean you’ve lost it. it means you’ve absorbed it. the people who leave don’t take it with them. they leave it behind in you.
love is about transforming. about leaving someone better than you found them, even if you had to leave. and i hope i’ve done that. i hope somewhere, someone is still listening to a song i showed them. still laughing at something i said. still drinking their coffee the way i do. we don’t belong to each other but we do belong to the versions of ourselves we became in each other’s presence and in that way, we never truly lose anyone.
eat delicious things in every sense. savor novels that unravel slowly, like decadent meals for the mind. let sunlight kiss ur skin, bask in its warmth like an endless summer. hold close the people who make you feel alive, kiss them tenderly, love them fiercely. laugh at bad jokes, the kind that make you roll ur eyes but secretly smile. plant basil on your windowsill, water it with care, breathe in its fragrance as you stir it into your meals. be unafraid to indulge in beauty, to notice it everywhere and to consume it greedily. there is no virtue in starving yourself of joy, no wisdom in rationing delight.
A few months ago I started baking chocolate muffins and i instantly took a liking to baking. The aroma it gives off hit me home, kind of. I found a recipe of cinnamon buns online somewhere and complied all the ingredients. It was a ride I would say. This was the first time I kneaded using my bare hands. At one point i thought i am doing something wrong but eventually the dough started to take shape. it was smooth after that. the smell of cinnamon from the oven was divine. it tasted even better than it looked.
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