Petit Parisian vacation

Small snaps from Paris. 

They take me back to October when everything got clear and my heart become vibrant again. 

Some places bring out the best in you, others bring out the worst. 

And then there are those remarkably rare ones... those places will bring out the most. Of everything. 

Sentimental reasons

He visited me in my dreams and the moment I saw him I knew, I'm not healed. And it's okay.
I guess the magic comes from the unknown of how is he, what's it's like on the other side and how life turned of for him. It comes from the laughter and sentimental movies, words and greeting cards.
"Nostalgia, it's delicate but potent. In Greek, "nostalgia" literally means "the pain from an old wound." It's a twinge from your heart far more powerful than memory alone - a feeling from a place we ache to go again."

Is it time to put the summer breeze into a box of goods and leave it there to settle? Place the box to the highest self and be ready for an autumn breeze? Is it time?
Acceptance is achievable, but is letting go also?
It's strange to be stuck... because I never know if it is still a fresh wound or just an aching memory of the paper cut.

I woke up this morning with tons of confusion yet a happiness in my heart. Rolling up the curtains, seeing how the cold autumn is petting the leaves and feeling how the morning sun is following me with my stretches.
I've created a habit of putting my phone on an airplane mode when I'm sleeping and I'm unlocking it only after my morning routine (doing yoga, getting ready, having breakfast and so on). This "trick" is making me more present and I'm starting to realise again the value of real time.
Last night I created myself a monthly journal which I fulfil in the mornings and in the evenings before going to sleep. The diary is about taking time for yourself, finding happiness and creativity, and being grateful of the day ahead and behind. If it leads me on a good path... then you all can get a simple pdf copy of it.

I found myself in Paris. Or did Paris find me?

To sum up. Not for you.

For me - so I could get this all out. 

People won't let you change. Simple as that.

They will take you for granted, how they are used to and as they like. Trust me if I say, that they won't help you to fight with your heartbreak, anger, loss or dry inspiration. They take you as they are used to... but don't feel bad about it or let it bother you - it's just easy for them. 

But now I have lost everything. Yet, yes, I still have all the things physically. But isn't it the most horrifying feeling when you are having it all on paper but not actually owning anything? Not being OK with where you are? Am I over analysing yet this time or do I need a true and a real wake up call from, I don't know, myself? It's time to start healing. 

A week in Paris taught me a lot. About how people are people and you do, sometimes, grow apart from yourself. Let me tell you - it is totally okay. It's normal to feel alone while you have somebody next to you and it is normal to doubt in yourself, in your actions and believe me, it's even normal to make mistakes. 

I picked up my tickets already in the summer... I guess I knew that I would be in this situation and needed to get away. The Universe warned me and I went for it. I reached to the point where I'm not just cracked up but now, I'm totally broken down. I need to take my time and start building myself up. With what I want and NOT with what people expect me to do. 

The realisation didn't come to me by mysterious muse or falling in love with Paris (which of course I did) but it came to me by surprise and more... a bit... "lamish" way. We visited Pompidou center when suddenly the alarm went off and everything got quiet. The magical moment of "what now?" was in the air. And suddenly we were all sent out by the security guards. Everything happened really quickly - you see people panicking but yet trying to calm themselves down, you see them running but being so confused about how serious the situation is. I guess we all know in our guts, at least I knew, that it wasn't a "bomb action" (hopefully). But there was still that doubt. When you see people running and panicking... then you start to realise - am I going to run with them because I'm afraid of the unknown and the life I'm living seems worth fighting... Or am I actually walking because I've reached to the point where I just don't care.

I kept on walking. 

Okay, I picked up my pace a bit because they told me to. That's it. My only thought was, it's actually pretty okay - to die between famous painters would be a death worth achieving. 

After that, in the evening when everything turned out fine (I guess, we still don't know what happened but we are alive), I started to think about myself and how sensible I am. At the same time how cold hearted I can be. What? Exactly. And yet, how my soul is missing a piece or a life or a purpose. Maybe it's missing me. 

Yes, my soul is missing me. 

I started writing down some postcards and found myself in a situation I thought I'm not having (nor I ever will) - I ether live my life with not doing things I want to and I'll accept it or I at least TRY to change something so next time I would feel the urge to run when the alarm goes on. 

So sorry if you are not letting me have my change - the ways, prospectives or creative work. I know I will get slapped because I won't behave the way they want me to, but please do understand that it is for me. And you are for you. And trust me, I don't expect anything from you. 

I'm keeping my sensibility and taking life deeply (you know, it's both a curse and a blessing to feel everything so deeply). But I'm cutting the "bad-ass crap" and making others happy with my "physical" work and never-ending-giving-out emotions. 

It's not "my time" like some people like to say. It's my freaking "life" and...

I'm so young to be this tired of living. (I'm not over analysing - my every true close-one can see this.)

So hello. I'm gonna start finding my roots again, sides that make other people inspired and what inspires me, reasons why I have my tattoo and beliefs that made my success.

But it's all gonna be for me at first. 

Cause being nice is cool! 

But being nice to yourself is now necessity. 

PS: Save me from your wise words. I got this. 

No need for aggressive optimism. 

Picking up books again, looking up the ones who inspire me and shaking off the tensions that I've gained.

I found myself in Paris. Or at least... Paris found me and made me realise what I'm missing - of myself.  

... she also wanted to see Paris

She wanted to die but she also wanted to see Paris. 

*Push play*

I escaped so I could ran into myself. 

I wish I could collect my thoughts and put them on paper but I guess they still wouldn't be worthy enough for Paris.  I've been trying to understand and define the feelings it gives me; been trying to describe how I see it - but with no luck. My words would seem such cliches and I would go on and on about how beautiful it is, how magical it makes me feel and how I wish I could stay in this tiny parisian apartment forever. 

But the truth is... it's all that. Honestly and simply, I'm being blinded by the emotions I feel and the beauty I see. 

"Don't fall in love with Paris. You want to stay here. Don't fall in love in Paris. You will need to stay here. Don't come to Paris... if you are planning to go back home - you will leave your heart here."

Give me few more days so I could collect my thoughts. 

I was never in love with you

I was in love with the thought of you.

Let's meet in the middle.
You know they say that Paris is always a good idea?