As you read this, I shall be some 40,000 feet in the air headed towards 48°51′24″N 2°21′03″E / 48.856667°N 2.350833° E. at some 529 mph, more or less.
Seven long years and nineteen hours later, I will find myself in Paris once again.
As usual, I am unenthused and unexcited about the whole trip, but one hopes the City of Lights will illuminate my heart and soul, as there have been too much of shadows and fog there of late.
À tout à l'heure, messieurs.
It's the city of light, after all, they say. Maybe the city will help illuminate the way for you Ruddie.
ReplyDelete.
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Bonne chance, monsieur!
-Désolé Boy
i love it. =) paris, love. paris will always be a second home to those who see refuge in the beauty of grandiose. sweetie, enjoy paris.
ReplyDelete(and while youre there, go check out balenciaga. i heard the new men's line is adorable.)
lovelove
P.
request ako ng eiffel tower keychain. :D
ReplyDelete@billboard: While I normally don't do requests, your wish has already been granted. Your Eiffel Tower keychain shall now join the ones from Tokyo and Bangkok in pining for the day when they shall meet the loving clutch of your palms - just like Ternie's essential oils.
ReplyDelete@P: Just this afternoon, despite foul weather and an overall gloomy disposition, Paris reminded me why she is such a terribly, terribly expensive yet irresistible, beloved mistress.
And yes, she is just as grandiose, as aloof, yet as beguiling as ever.
@ DB: Many thanks for your kind words. We shall see if the magic will make me fall in love all over again with life in general.
Rudie, how are you? I miss you. I hope you allow yourself to fall in love again. It just doesn't happen. You have to let it.
ReplyDelete"You can fall for pretty strangers and the promises they hold."
Kane
Ah, Kane.
ReplyDeleteI was wondering about you, especially after our last aborted text exchange. Your latest blog post filled in the blanks beautifully, if wistfully.
I loved the piece. It should't be too surprising by now that it echoed my own sentiments about relationships - both platonic and romantic - and our sadness when they wither away. Why must the leaves fall from the trees, we protest. Ah, but why shouldn't they, especially if it is time?
But awareness of the cycles and seasons of life is cold comfort - if at all - when we are lashed by it's onslaughts. We can onl rehearse, prepare, and eventually face the inevitable.
I shall see you when I return, and we shall huddle in the winters of our discontent.