There is a thin line between Love and Hate

Last year I was going to go to Paris - didn't work out; I was also working towards a trip which would have provided the opportunity for Geneva, Switzerland with a surprise trip over to Paris and then Italy (a surprise for my companion) - also did not work out...on both counts.

I wasn't all that concerned with Italy when I overherad my friends speaking this morning about the trip I'm not going to be able to take. Her air (Italy) I've already taken in and it is very close inside me, near my heart somewhere I'm sure - the air is so sweet! In fact, it's the air that helps me understand what Rumi says about taking "sips of breath" - it really was like I was drinking the air. mmm.

But Paris, you and me madam, are getting of to some start here; first you promise me romance and Ray Lamontagne - I dreamt of engagement on your tower; then you give me an onslaught of memories for things that never happened, and even a language writers, and artists, and lovers must know! I had you framed incorrectly in my mind due to my small dealings with you in my youthful trips back home, some of your people were rude to my mother [I still growl for her to you] - then you took on a new light, you became half the soul of a soul whom I attempted giving my own (or something...I don't know) - thereafter I realized how much you influenced things I loved, I even played a role as a Prince that built your roads.

Then you said no to everything. Now you seduce me again, overheard conversation about you comes, slipping into my ear and your shadows fill my body. You don't leave me alone Paris, and some part of me already hates you without knowing you intimately. I don't like you madam, you remind me of what's lost - and still, you make me desire you! You won't leave me alone! So get ready future sweetheart, for I am going to come to you and have my revenge. I will enjoy your food and your history, I will converse fluidly in your language, I will embrace the memories of those things which never occured, those hopes which you laughingly tore into pieces - I will hold those tortures and splinters within the hopes and future memories of our solitary union. I will have my romance with you Paris, you yourself will wipe away the ink blots that you yourself spill inside my heart and mind. If you won't leave me alone, then fine, I won't leave you alone - I'm coming to get you baby, and you'll have my growl as love.