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“Everybody knows that it's now or never
Everybody knows that it's me or you…
That's how it goes. Everybody knows” —Leonard Cohen
“Her name's leah. I sit and think of her every minute, can't stop. I imagine undressing her. Everywhere, on the floor, on the bed, in my office, on the train to Boston. I kiss her body all over. I whisper to her, ‘Leah. I love you. I need you.”’ Danny looks at me, smiling sadly. “And she surrenders to me,” he says. “She surrenders like she never has before, losing her senses, no longer thinking. She knows that I will bring her to a place she has never been to if only she agrees to lose control and follow me. She will realize that I am the best thing that ever happened to her. … She'll let me touch her body. I can't stop thinking of her body.” Danny speaks. I listen. “It's not me, it's him,” he apologizes, and I know he talks about his fear of the ghost that possesses him and speaks from his throat, fear of not being able to remove this voice from his head. He asks me to help him get rid of what he calls “the Dybbuk.”
In Jewish tradition, the Dybbuk (Possession) is a ghost, a spirit, that