I would very much like to be angry with Benny Gantz. Finding myself the powers to storm him, shouting, responding, writing something cynical and relentless about the man and his actions. Playing him in the loop "what's on my son's phone" and "stuttering Gantz", two huge hits he wrote and composed by the prime minister. To steal, to take off steam, to scream, to pour out my fury on someone who just a week ago gave me hope. But I have no power. I was tired. I have no more words, no energy either. The past week has strangled me. I am saturated, wounded and exhausted, and do not see the oasis on the desert.

And no, I never really had high expectations from politicians. I worked with them, absorbed them, saw them in their weakness. I attended moments of slackness and frenzy, seeing how big people become small all at once. I thought nothing could surprise me anymore, that I was immune to cynicism.

And yet the move of Benny Gantz broke me and many of my friends. Mainly because time after time, since Rabin's assassination, we hang hopes on bench players, strengthening players, the new coach, purchasing an appointment, watching games and seeing our team lose balls and not score and defeat in the playoffs. The center-left block is so bruised and depressed and tired that it just isn't fair to put another human hit on it.

We are walking in the dark, not those of the Book of Psalms that the Torah candle will light their way, but the characters of Hanoch Levin who walk around the stage expecting something to happen and knowing that there is no chance.

In the play "The Child Dreams" the dead children wait for Christ. When he arrives, they are sure that he will do magic and get revenge on anyone who offends them, "Now, now! The string is about to burst: the sky - to open, it will happen now" they shout. But Christ turns out to be a weak and frightened and frightened man, hurrying to hurl at the commander and the soldiers watch to buy himself another life time.

Three election campaigns in a row people believed it was possible. They reached the first round of elections after experiencing countless traumas; Shimon Peres' loss to Netanyahu, the disappointment of Ehud Barak, the decline of Avi Gabay. In between, they saw the state they knew and loved crashing. Shout out "elites" until tomorrow, say "this is not your mother's country", that's all right. But that will not change the sense of lack of affiliation that attacks you against a flabbergasted Regev or national law or annexation speech or indictments against the prime minister.

We are the bloc that, every two years, experiences a disengagement: every time we break up with a leader who comes, plantes hopes, and then smashes us into planks. The Israeli left is post-traumatic. Plus Corona and my existential concern and lack of financial security, it's just too much.