One of the first pleasant surprises I discovered in my time living overseas was one of the hardest to relinquish when it was time to come back home. It was a simple concept, one that was everything and nothing at the same time. It made social interaction more interesting, and made it a hell of a lot easier to get coveted attention from the fairer sex.
I like to think I’m not a cynic, but I am skeptical more often than not. So when I first watched “Live at Wembley Stadium”, a concert film of the Foo Fighters, I was skeptical of the sincerity of the emotion singer Dave Grohl displayed as he spoke to the crowd.
Whenever someone would ask me over the last few weeks, “Why are you going to Paris?”, I’d almost always reply “to write”. That much is true, a big part of coming here was to get away from the habits and distractions I would face at home. The greater reason, though, was a little too personal to interject into small talk. Continue reading Paris : Day 2 – The Search for Happy
I guess the whole point is, we can never know.
Are the little coincidences really coincidences? Or are they the universe trying to talk to us the only way it can, short of mailing us a FedEx package with a return address of “Universe” containing a note that says “Here’s something you need to know…” ?
I suppose that’s where faith comes in.
August 20th, 2012.
The sting of bone on linoleum. I suppose that’s the moment I realized that nothing was ever going to be normal again. I always assumed the idea of actually falling to your knees in grief was a contrived act of attention-seekers, something you did when you knew someone was watching. Continue reading …But Her Spirit Lives On…