city of memories

you predicted, with that grin across your face, that in three weeks time, i would be wandering this city thinking of you and how i sat here with you, or walked this way with you, or looked on with you, or laughed with you, drank til dawn with you, rode a taxi and kissed in the rain with you, while you would be long gone, smoking cigarettes with polish truck drivers, riding horses across distant landscapes, looking onto new horizons. and i knew this would be true because this is my nature, of walking down these memories of all that is past. it is already happening, just a day after you left my path led me to so many familiar places where i could almost see you again like you were these past few months. and i see people taking pictures, making memories and i do the same but i really have no need of this apparatus, it is my mind that holds on to all that matters.

and i asked this man what he thought his biggest question was and he said why it was that he was never completely happy, why there was always something else that seemed just out of reach. then he turned the question around and i was stumped for an answer. but something surfaced, my puzzlement as to what single experience i am here in this life. because there has been this repetition of good byes, many of them silent, others screaming. and with each good bye i write a story. so it occurred to me that it is not even about me, this life, but about the ones i have the fortune to meet and walk besides for a while so that i can tell their story. and it is not a choice, because when i do walk these streets they hurt my feet and my heart until i write down what has passed here.

i live joy much more deeply and so her sister comes along with tears and sorrow. to be certain. and once i have completed my mission here, i shall leave it behind. like most people they come make their memories and leave again. it is what i have called a "weighstation" and what hemmingway described as "a moving feast"... it keeps you moving this city. that is why i love it so, i cannot stand still like i used to do. keep moving and don't be sad long. but make your own way. and while your story takes me around the globe with you, i write and i live and i dance. and you knew all this because you knew me during my other trials. you listened and i listened to you. when we move together it is meant to be.