A Letter to Paris

Dear Paris, You were a strange one, with your lonely horizons and wet afternoons. I wasn't entirely sure what to make of your Medie...

Dear Paris,

You were a strange one, with your lonely horizons and wet afternoons. I wasn't entirely sure what to make of your Medieval-Neoclassicism-Second Empire architecture. Even the birds seemed to wonder if they had landed in the right place. They look off into the pastel city and wonder how it is you deal with tourists like me.

If I may speak freely, Paris, it must be the love. The kind that is both the cliched romanticized idea of you, and the kind that's Sharpie-marked on trees. I would try to describe what I mean by it but the most accurate elucidation is by mentioning that I never figured to properly know what time the Eiffel tower twinkles, but waiting for it, expecting it and then finally seeing the tower sparkle. Paris, I can confirm that wonder sounds the same no matter the language.

It's the way you slowly linked your arm around mine under my umbrella, Paris. It started with a draggy step, and a quiet mumble of things you seemed to know I love. You tapped into my interests in digital art, but also fed my need for things that used to be. You were a cheeky one, with your drab streets and colourful interiors. I'm sorry to say, despite what and who you are, I did not fall in love with you, Paris.

You were too quiet. Even the rain sounded like it hesitated to freely fall into the ground's embrace. Every sound that didn't hesitate was caught by someone else's lips. It was partially because of a language I didn't understand, or maybe even because it was a culture I wasn't a part of, but Paris, your buildings did not echo. I can't be sure what it is, but it may be the hearts from people who have come and gone. It may be the hearts tacked on by the locals, heavy from carrying the crowds of tourists in their memories, or it may be the hearts stolen from tourists like me. If home is where the heart is, how many hearts are out there catching echoes, hoping to find one loud enough for their homesick owners to hear?

You were a strange one.
All my love,

ultimate mirror selfie in the hall of mirrors tho.

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  1. I made a selfie as well in the hall of mirrors, I am not going to lie XD
    But something about Paris didn`t really make me feel the whole "Wow, Paris! The city of love! One of the most visited places ever! Wow, look at everything!" The thing with Paris is that it attracts you with its beauty and fame but doesn`t keep you there because, somehow, she makes you feel out of place. That was my perspective though.