As I sit in the large terrace of our chalet in the north coast, keeping my mind occupied with meaningless ideas for the graduation project, or the working project or any of the other projects hiding around the corner waiting for me to pass by to terrify the fuck out of me. Suddenly a wave of silence awakens me from my long gaze into nothing. I realize that everything around me is so quiet. No cars passing by, No kids playing, no angry merchants shouting at their crazy tomatoes. All there is that I hear is the rhythmic sound of a cockroach coming from a distant. The sound was there from I don’t know how long, possibly it was there for ages, and will stay there for ages after I die. I just never stopped and listened. The cockroach sounded sad and lonely. May be his chant was nothing but a hopeless call for a long lost lover, or an angry shout at the unfair destiny. May be he was just calling for someone to see behind his cockroachy look, looking for someone who’d be brave enough to open his heart and listen. May be all he wanted was to tell his story. For the first time in my life I’m having a great compassion to the ugly creature. For the first time I see what we have in common. Because everything I do, everything I say is not but a sad rhythmic chant into the unknown. My brother comes in and joins me. He is silent for a moment then he mutters:”god I hate those creatures. I wish one day they will be gone.” I pause for a minute then I answer:” yes, everybody hates us”…
My answer is met with an awkward and long silence…
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