This morning, on the southern exit from Hadera, before the Dor Alon station, I saw a horse lying injured on the ground, seemingly without legs (I'm not sure if it was or wasn't). There was a young woman crying helplessly by it. My father pulled over and asked her if she called a vet, then called one himself.
I looked at the horse and it really reminded me of an Irish-language poem, something about looking at the eye of the horse and seeing its sadness... can't recall, couldn't recall then. My brother was too moved by what happened and was rather loud, but I acted pretty much indifferently.
It's rather interesting, to actually see one of those short little stories one reads every once in a while on the newspaper.
I was told the cute Chinese boy in my grade is bi, and had my hopes up for nothing. He's not. Dúirt bean liom go ndúirt bean léi...
But I will get to meet a cute goy boy, if the one who has his MSNM address remembers to give it to me at last. Or her friend gives me the number of another boy.
I've been wondering lately who has or will have my true devotion and love, more accurately who comes in first. I suppose it will be Khavatselet, but only after our coast-to-coast trip.
Unum diem...
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