Tel Aviv, Disengoff street No. 47.
There's something awfully ugly in concrete buildings, those old 80's monuments of square boredom.
I don't know why, but I like walking in the suburban streets of Tel Aviv. I get this strange feeling of unstoppable curiousness, always thinking who lives inside these dull grey boxes.
And I just can't wait until I will also live in a place like that, always thinking of what other people outside my monochromatic cube are thinking about me.