It's a 9:30 crisp morning air here in Paris on a bright beautiful August morning...this scene might seem more then cliche in an anyone's mind as they read my current blog entry. But this is what it is, blissful and perfect and the couple next to me just adds to the view. They are having a couple of cappuccino's and just discussing, I can't quite tell if they are tourists or just morning Parisians but all I can think of are my parent's. Older couples always appear much cuter to me then they might actually be to any other person.
I know I have found one particular thing about this morning, the earlier the wake up... the better the inspiration. I just wanted to open up my tiny little pink net-book and start writing. Even long after the couple is gone and strolling down the street I am writing away. Lost in nostalgia as I begin to enter the next chapter in my book about my journey from Munich to Milan. I remember this humble feeling I had about life after I left Dachau but I am struggling to bring fourth that emotion in my writing...something's about New York made me run to Paris and now I am slowly believing those same things are going to bring me back to NYC.
Until then, the sun is starting to come over the building and the hours are starting to pass this morning...I think it will be noon in Paris soon.
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