A View to a Shrill

Nothing is permanent except change, but don’t quote me on it!

In the 2010’s, I lived in central Jerusalem and from my balcony I observed various things.

Once there was a group of Ethiopian girls chatting. Another time on the same stairs I saw a guy roughing up his girlfriend while kissing her. He did the same thing to another girl the following day. It wasn’t  something I liked focusing in on.

One night I was fast asleep and woke to loud voices and strange sounds. Barely awake, I went to the balcony and saw down below a mob and they weren’t about to sing Kumbaya!

The group had come from a nearby Ethiopian bar. Further reinforcements were rolling in – and not of the police kind. It was about 3am and the streets were otherwise dead. It looked like there was going to be some type of brawl. It was hard to tell what was happening (or going to happen.)

I didn’t like it. I felt I had to cause a distraction – fast. Yelling would be ridiculous so I went inside and found my cowbell!

Years earlier I stopped a bag-snatching mid-way through the attack in a similar situation.

I started playing really loudly and being concrete everywhere, the cowbell’s shrill bounced around the whole courtyard. I was lying down because I didn’t want anyone to see me. However, the ground was cold and blocking my ears was difficult.

I peered over the ledge. There seemed to be a verbal fight concentrated under the arches.

Latin clave rhythms for the win!

People started losing focus and looking around for a drummer. Soon enough the mob dissipated and I could go back to sleep.

Other nicer things to happen on my balcony were sprouts, compost, snow and starting the search for Ormus.

I also made Orgonite from crystals purchased on Ebay.

C’est la vie!