There's something particularly disheartening about a blog in a state of coma. The blog is not a product of its author so much as it is "an author" in itself: the speaking voice of an online persona that is only partially related to a real one. When such a voice dies out, the persona is dead.
Did the hectic day to day, Facebook and the growing willingness to pay for my writing kill Mr. Everywhere? I hope not, and yet find myself uninspired even now to write more. Did I run out of stuff to tell? It feels more as though there's too much to tell. Some of it is told in the articles Itka and I now write as a team for Haaretz (those periodically get translated into English, is in this case) All else will be told in good time.
In the meantime, there are nearly two years' worth of archives here for newcomers and frequent fliers alike to explore, trips to diverse destinations: Amman, Budapest, Ashdod... political reflections worthy of an investigation by the shin bet, some amateur photography and yes, the occasional love story. Enjoy them all.