The topic of Israel and Palestine is too big, tragic, I can’t even begin to scale it; I feel like a fool for even trying to write anything. It needs a Goethe, or a Shakespeare, or a Thomas Mann. Paul Ford just remembers walking around Tel Aviv looking for good falafel and feels bad for Bryan’s ribs, and sad, and pissed, always confused.
…and I need to write my friend Nir…i miss u, man…
the beautiful coastline near Tiberius a strip of white and perfect blue where sand hit sea