The hallways are in pure silence… the day just flew backward and the night starts to grow darker… she wanders and wonders… worries and gets lost through the shadows of the strangers… thinks harsher and harder… pounds her mind to shape it lighter… what a miserable day, she pauses in the moment… mutes her thoughts and the world around her…

She then smiles and craves for puffs… loves and hopes… dances to his tender tune… oh, to all those magical words… closes her eyes and in her dream she makes the sweetest thrilling love…

Now she starts…
… dares and writes
about “you”…
… where is “you”?
“You”, the birth of her new life…

S

“He who does not bellow the truth when he knows the truth makes himself the accomplice of liars and forgers.”

— Charles Péguy

Haha… Isn’t *Empire State Building on St. Patrick’s Day* the koolest thing ever?!

— Christoph Niemann

“Boxing got me started on philosophy. You bash them, they bash you and you think, what’s it all for?”

— Arthur Mullard

… And here is *another* reason to respect Mr. Niemann’s creative mind!

“During the cold and dark Berlin winter days, I spend a lot of time with my boys in their room. And as I look at the toys scattered on the floor, my mind inevitably wanders back to New York.”

— Christoph Niemann

“I like to think of my behavior in the Sixties as a ‘learning experience.’ Then again, I like to think of anything stupid I’ve done as a ‘learning experience.’ It makes me feel less stupid.

— P.J. O’Rourke

Her head is interrupted… she already ran away due to lost trust… giving herself a fresh start, hoping that second chances would come at night… the past is fading in her thoughts… when the alcoholic’s secrecy disturbed a loved one… and where she dealt with others’ garbage in their foolish state of mind.

Time went by… time flew… the waiting game didn’t play her right.

Tonight… It’s a dark and a lonely night… while she writes, she wonders how suddenly she became the hero of the surprising story of her own life.

S

“It isn’t what people think that is important, but the reason they think what they think.”

— Eugène Ionesco

Paris, je t’aime… That’s right, j’adore Paris… Almost fifteen years after my last visit, I took a dream trip to the city of love earlier this month and, to be honest, I’m not sure if I’m ever able to write or even explain the beauty… I’m not a travel writer and even if I was, there is no way you can go through every single detail of the stunning culture and the rich history that could hardly even be described in the best travel guides… All I know is that spending almost 12 hours every day walking on the cobblestoned streets of Paris was painful yet amazingly pleasurable… It left my mind and my heart full of the most beautiful memories and unforgettable sceneries… And if the word “adorable” could be considered a city, that would be Paris…

My whole adventure was summarized by observing the loveliness of every single moment wandering in the city… cafés, yummy pastries, vin rouge, l’Opera, the Metro, effortlessly charming and stylish people, sexy French accents, Collette, smoking tobacco under the spring blossoms, macarons, crêpes, cathedrals, baguettes and cheese, art and fashion, the “Le Petit Nicolas” exhibit, laughing on the walkways beside the Seine like there was no tomorrow, the Shakespeare & Co. bookstore (better known as where my beloved Ethan Hawke held his book reading in “Before Sunset”), teenage kisses in a park beside the Eiffel tower, the Andy Warhol exhibition, my dear Sara and the lovely new friends… Just a snapshot of all that happened.. All in all, I can’t be more grateful for this trip… I’m refreshed, back on track and happy that I’m back home…

Not even a full 24 hours after my arrival, jet lag and all, I saw myself jumping up and down to Fran’s voice… Yes, Travis had their Toronto concert the day after I arrived home and their gig left me even more so in love with the boys and their tune… now can anyone say, why does it always rain on me? 🙂

S

“Penetrating so many secrets, we cease to believe in the Unknowable. But there it sits, nevertheless, calmly licking its chops.”

— H.L. Mencken