October 14th, 2008 / TEARS

My friend of 4 [?] years, Zohara, passed away this morning after a long battle with cancer.

Zohara was an incredibly intelligent, talented 23 year old. She was about to start her degree in illustration at Shenkar after she found out the cancer is slowly leaving her body. A few months later a secondary growth was found. next thing I hear is Asaf [Z's boyfriend] calling me crying, telling me Zohara passed away today at 10am.

I'm going through her LJ entries and I have so many questions about older entries and I can't pick up the phone and ask "what did you mean when you wrote...?"

I'm sorry you were taken away so young

I'm sorry I was not a better friend

I'm sorry we weren't so close

I'm sorry I didn't turn up to your last birthday

I'm sorry you didn't get to grow into everything you

would've should've deserve to grow into.

I'm sorry I didn't have the chance to say goodbye.

We shared a love for books, a love for cupcakes and love for each other.

Thank you for your friendship.

I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.

RIP Z.T. 1984-2008.




October 16th, 2008


Do you remember that party we all went to a couple of years ago?

It was a party of some friend of yours. I dragged along Emilie, Anat and another girl I don't remember her name. It was on some abandoned roof top at south of Tel Aviv. You and my friends got drunk on really bad alcohol.

[ It was when I had driven a Toyota Previa and the reverse shift didn't work so we had to put the car on neutral and push it back when I tried to Uturn on some main road [La Guardia?]. A couple of stupid guys honked us and we split those minutes between pushing and bursting out laughing at the absurdity of the situation]

So you girls all got drunk, especially you. On the way home, I had to stop every other minute for you to get out of the car and puke. You slept over at my house that night. I slept in the guestroom, letting you sleep in my bed. Put a big bowl beside you in case of more puking and 2 pillows under your feet because Emilie told me that's what you do when someone is really drunk. And I hoped you'll be ok in the morning. You woke up before me, I found you in the living room drinking tea and reading one of my mom's cook books.

That night/morning was when I felt closest to you in all these years of our friendship.

Yesterday I realized I still have last year's bday present you gave me. Wool and knitting accessories. We said for several winters now that we'll get to it, that you'll teach me how to knit. Well, I still have these knitting things and winter is knocking on our doors. And you're not here to teach me how to make a scarf.

Tomorrow is your funeral. I'm going to make the 3 hour drive to your home town and say my goodbyes.





October 17th, 2008.



I don't know how many more goodbye letters I'm able to write you. I've been crying non-stop since Tuesday.

[I keep writing you on LiveJournal because that is how we've became friends. And I still hope/wonder/think you'll check your friends list for updates. Read my words to you.]

Your funeral was today. My parents were kind enough to drive me to the dead sea, where you grew up. There were many people there. Panicked on the way and cried cried cried as they put you in the ground. Much too much too much too soon, Zushi.

Your brothers, your sisters, your parents, your boyfriend, your friends, relatives, strangers, they were all there. I only said hello to Asaf, along with a hug. Didn't really know who's who except Asaf and his dad.

There was BULLSHIT talk of GOD. "God gives and god takes". I shook my head. I shook my head from side to side the whole day long. disagreeing with your premature leave. And the bullshit GOD prayers.

Was it in "GOD's PLAN" to kill a 23 year old girl from cancer?

I liked the story a relative of yours read. She told us all how you had a little note book as a little girl, on which you wrote everything, with little drawings. Not surprising.

Zushi. I think of all the time we spent together and I imagine how you'd react to certain things or what witty, humorous comment you'd insert in certain situations. I'll always remember you as happy, chipper, full of life and passion. You've had so many plans. And I keep shaking my head, disagreeing with your premature leave.

People should not die at their 20's. You should have not died.

We weren't such good friends to eachother. But we loved eachother. And I'll visit your tombstone soon, on the edge of the dead sea.






כתבה "Boojie"


כפי שיודעים רבים מבאי אייקון (והודעה גם בפורום אורט), זהרה צעירי, "דמוסתנס" בשביל רבים מאיתנו, נפטרה לאחר מאבק ממושך עם מחלת הסרטן. את המשפט שבכותרת העתקתי מפרטי המשתמש בבלוג שלה כאן באלג'יי, שבו סיפרה מעט מהמאבק האמיץ שלה עם הסרטן - הרוב סגור לחברים, אבל פוסט פתוח אחד הכיל סדרת ציורים מצמררת ביופיה ובכנותה המתעדת רגעים מההתמודדות עם המחלה. כמובן, זה לא כל מה שהיה בבלוג, כי דמו, כפי שהיינו רגילים לקרוא לה עוד מהימים שבהם כולנו היינו כינויים ולא שמות, הייתה מוכשרת, אופטימית, אמיצה ולא הפסיקה להתעניין ביצירה, בלימודים, בבן זוגה ובחברים, בספרים, באוכל טוב ובילויים טובים, בחיים.
מאז שקיבלתי את ההודעה, אתמול בדרך לאייקון, אני מחכה שיתברר שזו טעות אכזרית. מתיחה מרושעת. אי הבנה מטופשת. יש דברים שפשוט לא יכולים להיות.
קילרוי אמר היום שמוזר, שרובנו לא היינו קרובים כל כך, לא התראינו כל כך הרבה - עוד מהתקופה שהיה לנו רק כנס אחד בשנה ורוב הזמן היינו מתראים בפורום.קונים ולא יותר - ובכל זאת זה כל כך כואב. אבל זה בדיוק העניין עם הקהילה של פורום יואל, או נכון יותר המשפחה של פורום יואל - כי אנחנו משפחה. אולי לא מתראים הרבה, אולי רוב התקשורת וירטואלית, אבל הקשרים בינינו אינם וירטואליים כלל. וכפי שאמר דותן כשהגעתי לאייקון, זו קבוצת התמיכה הטובה ביותר שיכולה להיות. כי "המשפחה הווירטואלית" - הלא וירטואלית כלל - הזאת שלנו שם, וכולם כואבים וכולם המומים מהעובדה שדמו לא שם עוד.
ואולי, בקיצור, כמו שאמר קיפוד: חרא.

פוסט לא קוהרנטי, אני יודעת. זה מה שיש לי כרגע. חרא.