Her routine

She walked around her new city. The streets were narrow, and the shops were small. The smell was of piss and pastry, coffee, and alcohol. There were high-end stores, and roadside stalls. There were girls in fancy dresses and men who slept on the streets. It was a city of extremities, of highs and lows,

Maybe Yuval never feels lonely

Maybe I should just become like Yuval Harari. Dry, monotonous voice, talkative. Somewhere else in my mind, alone at home. Make yourself believe that you don’t fear loneliness; that you wouldn’t go mad. Turn vegan because you’re frustrated with the world, and quite frankly, you’ve lost appetite. Get a cat and play with it on