NU? Long time no see! How are you? Why don't you write? Maybe you do. My "vacation" here in Gaza is not all I hoped it would be. In fact I never planned to be here, just all of a sudden one day some Arabs made me a deal I could not refuse, and after a trip through an illegal tunnel under the Israel-Gaza border, well, here I am. Believe me, no travel agent would book such a vacation except of course an Arab travel agency, such as "See Gaza Our Way" or "Fifty Ways To Leave Your Father and Mother" or "Hamas Border Crossing Associates". There is no end to the creativity of these Arab "freedom fighters" -- I just would rather Arab creativity would hearken back to the love poems of another era. "The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on (Omar Khayyam)." I find myself thinking that Omar Khayyam must have been a Jew in his soul. I find nothing of Omar Khayyam in the soullessness of my captors.
So I am thinking of you, wondering how you are, wondering what is going on in the world, wondering if it has changed much since my kidnapping and imprisonment some years ago (how many I am not sure, as I have lost all track of time). I wonder if there have been attempts to find me. I wonder how many Israelis may have lost their lives trying to find me. HaShem is my witness, I pray that not one life has been lost trying to find me. In fact I pray that not one life has been lost since my capture and that, if I must be a prisoner, that my imprisonment may have some meaning as the only total final cost of a true peace. Of course a true peace would mean my freedom, and since I am not free, I know, sadly, that peace has not broken out.
For the moment I have been in good humor, but, it is not always so. From one moment to the next I do not know if down is up or up is down. Am I sane? Am I even alive? HaShem knows that, if the truth is ever found out, what has been done to me, how I have been used, what I have been used for.... I don't even really know, am I alive or am I dead? In truth I have been fully decapitated on multiple occasions at various locations, such that I could write an entire collection of anecdotes based solely on my many decapitation experiences. And I could describe what goes on underground in the desert in such detail; but, let's not get morbid!
Since this is my first entry, let me just say to my mother, father, brother, and sister: Please, don't forget to set a place for me at Pesach, right next to Elyiahu Ha Novi. Think of me at Purim. I don't know when these times are; but, you do; you must.
Love, Gilad
