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  • There's a building at 73 St. Mark's Place in New York that I used to walk by sometimes.

    Before I moved to Israel (I think I'll say those words a lot here), I lived in Manhattan. I had a studio apartment that I loved and decorated from top to bottom. Painted all the walls, covered them with meaningful artwork, photographs and things. Every square inch had been thought about and made just the way I liked it.

    The hardest part was deciding what color to paint the walls. I remember passing by this purple building on St. Mark's, and falling in love with the boldness of the shade. Fantasizing that I'd have the balls to use that color on my wall.

    Back then, the purple building had a fresh coat of paint.

    When I passed by it the other day for the first time in years, it was like seeing somebody that I used to know (cute Gotye's tune by the same name). My beautiful purple wall was covered in graffiti. Not covered, but just enough to symbolize "change". It felt like the wall was telling me "What do you expect? You went away for three-and-a-half years."

    It was a strong sentiment that has been hitting me at random, unannounced moments since I got back almost 3 weeks ago.
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