The everyday is the status which needs no update. The cold with its wrinkles carves itself into your face, into the internal image, the spiritual form, while promises and hopes can barely be felt, which is evern worse than if they never existed at all. In Hebrew there’s a word ashlaya, which means illusion. Its sound calls to mind things which appear, wink, and then slip away, transparent veils that are never uncovered, crawling like snakes with all the time in the world.
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