"Blogging isn't journalism, it's graffiti with punctuation."

>night

>on the train from warsaw to krakow, i read the slim but irrevocably haunting book NIGHT by elie wiesel.

you read this book and you are changed forever.

ghettos, deportations, screaming women in cattle cars, smoke stacks and chimneys, babies in the fire, bread and soup, bread and soup, bread and soup, work, shoes, teeth, brutality, gunshots, dr. mengele, auschwitz-birkenau, death marches, snow, violins in the middle of the night, nails and scratching and crushing, dysentery, fathers, liberation.

when i arrived at my hostel in krakow, they offered me some food. i have never had such a craving for sliced bread and margarine before. i devoured a portion that most people eat in a week. inhaled the bread like it was my last meal. i haven’t eaten this much bread all year.

i also crave soup.

in less than 45 minutes, i’m heading to auschwitz-birkenau.

gotta hold onto something.

gonna hurt like hell.

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