Surviving in Israel: A Personal Diary
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It’s strange how survival could turn into a battle.
Living in Israel, I burn through my days working jobs that never make it into Instagram stories.
Unloading boxes at dawn — that’s what pays the bills.
Sometimes, I don’t even see the sun.
I keep going because the rent won’t wait.
What I write isn’t about some startup journey.
It’s about living without money — with just survival.
I keep notes because otherwise, I feel like I don’t exist.
No one asks your name.
You sweep floors, and they talk over you.
But here, in this blog, I get to say something.
Maybe someone will read this.
But I hit "publish" anyway.
You can see it all here: blog by johnykosinsky
This is the other side.
Not filtered.
Just a man trying to survive.
On most days, I wonder how many people sees the workers behind the scenes.
We blend in, but no one looks twice.
In the hotel hallway before check-in, I don’t speak.
This isn’t a complaint.
It’s just my reality.
A used phone and prepaid SIM — that’s all I manage.
Some nights I write that blog by johnykosinsky might reach someone.
This isn’t monetized.
It’s just survival.
People say "just work harder", like life is a checklist.
They’ve never been asked to clean toilets for tips.
Still, I’m grateful for words.
Even if no one replies, it lives.
blog by johnykosinsky — that’s where it all is.
A post at midnight — everything honest.
No filters.
Just a man refusing to disappear.
Lately I lose track of what day it is.
Running on broken sleep turns everything into repetition.
Every shift blends into the next.
I get home when it’s dark.
My shoes are torn, but I’m still standing.
This blog remind me that my thoughts matter.
There’s a strange beauty here, but beauty doesn’t pay the bills.
Tourists see the beaches, but they don’t see us.
It’s not all bad.
Sometimes the coffee tastes right.
That’s enough.
No one teaches you what it means to share a room with strangers.
But here we are.
And maybe that’s what this is for.
You can read more, visit: blog by johnykosinsky
It’s not pretty.
But it’s mine.
And maybe that’s enough.
They picture struggle with background music.
But it’s repetitive.
It’s staring at the ceiling before work.
There are no trophies for showing up to carry boxes.
But you do it anyway.
Some days I think of quitting.
But then I get a message.
And I remember: this blog is proof I’m still here.
click here is a scratch in the surface.
No ads.
Just me and a keyboard.
This isn’t brand building.
It’s surviving.
Some are empty.
That’s what exhaustion does to your brain.
But I keep going, because I promised myself I would.
Maybe this blog will fade away, but while it’s here — it’s real.
If you’ve ever wondered if anyone else is struggling — this is for you.
Not to fix things.
Just to say: You’re not alone.
So if you want to read more, it’s all here: blog by johnykosinsky
Unfiltered.
But alive.
Living in Israel, I burn through my days working jobs that never make it into Instagram stories.
Unloading boxes at dawn — that’s what pays the bills.
Sometimes, I don’t even see the sun.
I keep going because the rent won’t wait.
What I write isn’t about some startup journey.
It’s about living without money — with just survival.
I keep notes because otherwise, I feel like I don’t exist.
No one asks your name.
You sweep floors, and they talk over you.
But here, in this blog, I get to say something.
Maybe someone will read this.
But I hit "publish" anyway.
You can see it all here: blog by johnykosinsky
This is the other side.
Not filtered.
Just a man trying to survive.
On most days, I wonder how many people sees the workers behind the scenes.
We blend in, but no one looks twice.
In the hotel hallway before check-in, I don’t speak.
This isn’t a complaint.
It’s just my reality.
A used phone and prepaid SIM — that’s all I manage.
Some nights I write that blog by johnykosinsky might reach someone.
This isn’t monetized.
It’s just survival.
People say "just work harder", like life is a checklist.
They’ve never been asked to clean toilets for tips.
Still, I’m grateful for words.
Even if no one replies, it lives.
blog by johnykosinsky — that’s where it all is.
A post at midnight — everything honest.
No filters.
Just a man refusing to disappear.
Lately I lose track of what day it is.
Running on broken sleep turns everything into repetition.
Every shift blends into the next.
I get home when it’s dark.
My shoes are torn, but I’m still standing.
This blog remind me that my thoughts matter.
There’s a strange beauty here, but beauty doesn’t pay the bills.
Tourists see the beaches, but they don’t see us.
It’s not all bad.
Sometimes the coffee tastes right.
That’s enough.
No one teaches you what it means to share a room with strangers.
But here we are.
And maybe that’s what this is for.
You can read more, visit: blog by johnykosinsky
It’s not pretty.
But it’s mine.
And maybe that’s enough.
They picture struggle with background music.
But it’s repetitive.
It’s staring at the ceiling before work.
There are no trophies for showing up to carry boxes.
But you do it anyway.
Some days I think of quitting.
But then I get a message.
And I remember: this blog is proof I’m still here.
click here is a scratch in the surface.
No ads.
Just me and a keyboard.
This isn’t brand building.
It’s surviving.
Some are empty.
That’s what exhaustion does to your brain.
But I keep going, because I promised myself I would.
Maybe this blog will fade away, but while it’s here — it’s real.
If you’ve ever wondered if anyone else is struggling — this is for you.
Not to fix things.
Just to say: You’re not alone.
So if you want to read more, it’s all here: blog by johnykosinsky
Unfiltered.
But alive.
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