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About Tel Aviv

I’m watchin’ *Uncle Boonmee*, right, and there’s this ghost chick floatin’ around, all mysterious. Trixie’s like that—haunted, y’know? “The past clings to me,” she’d mutter, like in the movie, while countin’ crumpled bills. Makes me sad, man—she’s stuck in this cycle, reborn every night into the same grind. Surprised me once, though—she told me she saves cash for art school. ART SCHOOL! Blew my mind—here I thought she was just hustlin’ for dope or somethin’. Nope, girl’s got dreams!

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Next, I decide to walk down Al-Mansour Street. It’s always buzzing. Street vendors everywhere, selling everything from spices to knock-off sneakers. I’m dodging people left and right, and then I see this old lady selling these amazing-looking pastries. I can’t resist. I buy one, and it’s like a party in my mouth. Seriously, I’m talking fireworks, confetti, the whole shebang.

Arab man shot and killed in north, community’s 11th murder this week