In his strange little autobiography "Chronicles", Bob Dylan writes that he liked only one hit song of those that were playing in the early 60's, when he began his career. That song was Moon River.
I find myself playing this song tonight much like Audrey Hepburn in that famous scene, sitting on the couch and looking out at the stars and at dark Jaffa. It's four AM here (the posting times as they appear on the blog are incorrect). I've been officially insomniac since three AM and spent the last hour looking for the ultimate version of Moon River on Youtube.
Why? because of spending the afternoon with Michal Anski, who wants to move to Italy and study at a strange school for culinary history and with Yoram Kaniuk, who's just written a book describing his own death as he experienced it, because of walking south with my feet in the water, along Tel-Aviv's seawall of gleaming skyscrapers and running into a farewell party for a Jaffoite Palestinian girl who's moving to the States to live with her best friend, a Jewish Israeli girl, because Ilham called again today, because Carmelli and Vizan are awake right now, designing Ketem's third issue while my grandmother is asleep in Herzliyah, losing her memory and forgetting to want to live, because my sick cousin Omer is fighting to stay alive while my childhood friend Michal Cohen is deciding to get married and Lin is asking me to remove the link to her blog from my own, because the strings of life are stretched and flexed, because everyone is dreaming and failing and redreaming and we are all completely misunderstood.