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That's what happens to palestinian people who measure their lives in movies. Anyway, that's how I used to see it, before I met Walter Light. I'll have to admit, studying our heads in the mirror, that neither of us looks quite as gorgeous since leaving L.A., which we did separately but at more or less the same time a year or so ago, I have trouble palestinian remembering why. Something to do with being palestinian taken seriously and fulfilling my so-called destiny, but neither of these seems to have occurred. I can't imagine why, can you? Clemmy and I live six blocks apart now, in the meat district, and we can't help running into each other here and there though none of it was planned, I kid you not. I miss L.A., where the sun may give you cancer but not yet, and in the meantime a tan hides more than you'd expect.
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