P-p-p-p-p-aris Arse Was Nice! (Journal)

In 2009 I went to Paris to look for a new start in life in a new country far away from everything I knew back home, everyone too. When I try to think about it I see only snapshots and faces.  Silence does not help. Music does not help. Eating does not help although it does remind me of a baguette shop I visited. What I thought I knew has fallen apart.

Art could put the pieces back together, I thought once.

Medicine could reinvigorate the hard to reach places, I thought.

God would stand aside and watch as I put the jigsaw piece together.

Man and his tools would make the planet whole in the great workshop of the galaxy.

Writing would help me travel virtual worlds of experience and the inner recesses would appear on paper vehemently clear and staggeringly beautiful just like they appear in my mind.

In short I would have excised all the demons and be riding the motorbike of success to wherever I please. Am I trapped?

Aboard. Do you feel aboard or just bored?

 

 

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