Some things are just not going to work out. It is not them, it is me. They don’t mean to reject me, they have no choice! I mean they are the chosen people and alles.
For a long time I have been reading, researching and enjoying the richness of the Jewish culture and heritage. I mean, they even gave Anne Frank at 13 her due in writing. She may not know about it, but still.
I have been welcomed, loved and amused the hell out of Jewish folk, but as their new year passed, I realise even if you owned a piano, it doesn’t make you a pianist. Kichel is never gonna make me a Jew.
I have now officially got the message. It is not my new year. I am not Jewish by birthright. No chosen people for me. I am planning my 21st tattoo (which I am very excited about) and Noid has a fore skin he has no desire to part with. Rather fond of it he is.
I have decided I will still l♡ve all things Jewish as it speaks to my soul, just as I l♡ve Afrikaans pudding in winter and English tea when I am upset. Add vodka and Tranquil Body Treats baths to all occasions.
Back I go to my barren spiritual realm and make kindness my religion.
I wish you enough,
In writing this, I found a pork belly recipe that includes both apples and honey – ha ha! (Traditionally apples and honey are exchanged in Jewish culture at their new year to signify a sweet year ahead.) Yes, I’ve been looking at recipes, shocking shit!
Nobody was harmed in tattooing in the writing of this blog.
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