Art experts sometimes scan old paintings with x-rays and other techniques, to discover older paintings that were previously painted on the same canvas, by the same artist or by another who painted over them to hide the original painting, maybe to improve it… I'm deleting the original version of this item (written 4 days ago) by replacing it with this one; to hide it, maybe to improve… maybe if it will really be important for someone, the older version will be able to be recovered as it was publicly online for ten hours until replaced, written over by these words. S. asked me why I put these personal writings like my previous item on the internet. Isn't it a question you could ask many writers, poets, artists publishing a work of a personal nature? And maybe any kind of work has a personal dimension? And then, what do people who don't write, paint, sing, create, install etc do with their emotions? Doesn't everyone feel this need to give form to this inner storm, this restrained scream inside and let it out?

Got back to Israhell yesterday early morning, without a hint of happiness. The worse part is on the way back, waiting for the flight on the airport, confronting with Israeli citizens on foreign territory emphasizes the national ugliness. I stand there, looking at them, so loud, rude, ugly, I can't believe I have something in common with them. I know where this rudeness comes from, this arrogance vibrating with unreserved stupidity. I make myself smaller, put the sweatshirt's hood on my head, stick my eyes in the book as if I could get contaminated with their words, their gestures. It's not a racial thing, not genetical; it's cultural of course. What do you expect from people who occupy and abuse other human beings for decades? They grow up in this poisoned environment of hatred and paranoia, graduate the schools of false superiority, trained as oppressor tyrants, pumped with myths of god, uniqueness and the 'purity of arms'… I don't belong, I want to go out, as soon as possible, just a few more months and I will go back to the comforting status of foreigner, refugee, objector, expatriate, asylum seeker, runaway. Back to Exile.

But the older words that were written here before, the original item 69 lying under these banal words of anger; were the ten hours exposure enough for them? did they reach their destiny? What effect did they do?