blurs. of simply remembering.

blurs of the past days.

that's what the recollection is. blurs.

symphonies of time in allegro.


left for paris on tuesday morning.

spent the day simply wandering around.

cole really wanted to see the louvre,

much with his fascination of the da vinci code

[or possibly the girl, that he saw the movie with?]

however, who would ever have guessed

that the louvre is closed on tuesdays?


so we simply wandered.

saw a bit of this. a bit of that.

had talks and just spent time together

which was the most important part of it all.


the day was so hot, sticky, salty on the skin.

leaving us tired and in the same sense,

very much alive.


we were sitting at the trocadero

simply because it's the most beautiful view

of the eiffel tower.

i get a text message simply saying

"say hello to the eiffel tower for me please"

and i didn't know who that message could be from.

so i replied saying,

"yes, the eiffel tower says hello as well.

but all i have is a number

and i don't know who to say hello to.

but i'm sitting here, looking at her now."

a moment later i get a reply saying,

"from the man that visits paris once a month

and if he's not in there,

he reads the news on the radio

or hopes to be by the stream

having a glass of wine with you soon."


and the mystery was solved.

leaving a smile on my face.

and what i might not dare admit,

a bit of a loneliness in the heart

this man has been so gentle, sweet. sending thoughts

in the morning or the middle of the day and late at night

simply to say hello.

and i don't really think that he pierced my heart

or managed to capture me

until that very moment.

it's been hard to receive.

it's been hard to take the walls down around me.

that i've built up all these years.

and i dare confess, while often walking down the streets

of this amazing city we call paris,

i wonder what it would be like

discovering and seeing and living this with someone close to the heart.

regardless. he did make me smile.

and i do believe that i'm looking forward

to that glass of wine. one day soon.


cole and i went back to the hotel,

weary on the feet and weary on the mind

of simply absorbing the sights, the sounds.

cole went coma in horizontal latitude on the bed,

i gave him a nudge

and told him i'd be back in an hour.

simply stepped outside on our street rue de charonne,

looking for a café and a quiet moment to spend time

with paper and pen and thoughts.

in a most beautifully quaint café called TriBeCa

and in one breath, i had my two most favourite cities

right before me.

paris. and new york.

earthly red painted walls. french jazz playing loud.

i was the only patron in the café

and just the perfect ambiance

for watching life on the streets pass by.

i sat down, writing thoughts and musing.

and day dreaming. away.

there was a lady in the laundromat across the street,

just watching her day dream away as well,

and people always create stories in my mind.

wondering where they are coming from,

and where they are going.

and a fascination of how we see people pass by,

yet we're all strangers caught in the same moment of time.


i walked back to the hotel,

and we decided we'd watch the world cup in a brasserie

and yes i'll admit, i was very much hoping for a german win,

and cole getting upset with me,

everytime i would say

"bud, i think the italians are going to take the game"

and needless to say,

i was blamed in the aftermath as well.

but, with a smile on his face

[and it's cole's smile that i so adore.

something shy. almost hidden. but his eyes light up.]

i think i was more so blamed,

after the first goal fell

and about thirty seconds before the second goal fell,

i buried myself into my nephew, didn't dare watch the screen

while saying

"cole, they're going to score again. don't let it end this way."

i honestly couldn't look.


sleep was easy to find.

the air was still hot and thick and heavy,

and i left the windows open.

the sound from the streets were a perfect lullaby.


up early in the morning and off to the train station we were,

back home by two in the afternoon

and back in my car on the way to pforzheim

for the follow-up interview.

hard to say how that went really,

i'm to call back tomorrow and express my own interest

having had the time to review the position.


the impressions that the company and the owner left were good,

and the only position he's proposed to me

is that of project manager [slash] managing director

of the new company he'd like to start.


a challenge it definitely would be,

however there's a yey and a ney speaking within.


depending on the interest i voice tomorrow,

we'll arrange for yet another meeting next week,

simply to show me more of behind the scenes,

and exchange a few more thoughts.


i'm hoping that by tonight,

i'll still be able to send off my resume

for at least the one position in new york.

again, what chances or potential are,

i can't even say.

rather than this is simply something

that i need to do for me. myself. and i.


my brother and nephew and buddy just left a few hours ago.

i still can't believe that the three weeks have passed.

so quickly. so suddenly.

life felt like it went on frame freeze.

leaving simply the blur.


the past week with the brother

was all that it wasn't in years.

there were matters of the heart,

and emotions involved.

things that one didn't anticipate

yet brought us closer again.


and needless to say,

also leaving tears behind

with the hugs and kisses of good bye.

there wasn't even much that needed to be said,

simply because we both understood. silently.


i'm so behind with work at the moment,

and yet i don't even feel i can function.

or better yet focus at the moment.


maybe i just need some time for the self.

to remember. to forget.

to absorb.


isabelle is coming by in a few hours

we reckon a walk down the rhine

and a talk

is just what the both of us need.


her matters of the heart. my matters of the heart.

and little hopes and dreams

that we allow to live within.



blurs of the past days. [and weeks and months.]

that's what the recollection is. blurs.

symphonies of time in allegro.