Deven leaves Paris

Well Paris, what more can I say.
Unfortunately I have reached that point where to you I must say au revoir, although this pains me, my flight for Berlin leaves tomorrow morning and my last glimpses of you fell nostalgic and bittersweet laced with melancholy. Goodbyes have never been my strong point and I guess as I ride my bike through the windy cobblestone streets with the Amelie soundtrack playing on my iPod there really is nothing left to say. The memory traces still exist and each street is permeated by the emotions of both locals and tourists alike. I am saddened at the reality that I will eventually have to let you go, only to return when time allows. After Berlin, it is back to Venice for some master classes in language, so that when I return I can greet you with the perfection your language deserves.
à bientôt 

The Stalk

This is my epic love story. It may not be much, but it’s a start. It is something better than I ever expected.

The piano in perfect tempo with all the other instruments began to play ‘Fantasia.’ The dancing was amazing. The dresses swivelling back and forth in all their colours and the tails of the men’s penguin suits flapped in the wind. I wore white. I felt like light in the darkness, but I was the darkness.

But why was I here? Something I’ll never know.

My pen feverishly worked a plethora of words on my once blank page. I was searching for reason, for meaning, for an explanation of what this all meant. I have many thoughts about its meaning. I was never good with decisions. I have always needed that push to the edge, which is why I tend to look at the logistics. I just do. I was searching for a bird I had once saw when I was younger. It was a stalk if I remember clearly. It wasn’t ordinary though. It was light pink. The colour you would see on a baby girl. I saw it the day my younger sister was born. I never thought about it until now, when we were asked to find something you have always wanted to find. Some of my fellow classmates, the shallow ones, decided they want to find that one piece of clothing they would give anything for. One girl in my class is searching for a rock she skimmed in a pond in the park next to her house. It was smooth, violet and perfectly rounded. I respect her.

There are so many pieces of paper, so many photos. I’m searching through my school bag.

What is this?

An invite.

The schools social event of the year: Classical Architecture. Our schools most famous dance. I needed to clear my head. I rented a tux and off I went. It was raining and the colour purple permeated my head. It was aesthetically beautiful.

My stalk was always in the back of my mind, I was always looking.

…

My eyes, do they deceive me?

That girl in my class. The skimming stone. She was wearing a light pink dress, like a baby girl would wear.

“Raven”

She is walking toward me. The rain is gone. Her skin is tinted by the moon. The purple faded away.

“Cassidy”

That moment, that touch.

Bliss.

The Letter

Dear Amy,

Silence is what I have been feeling lately. Everything I have wanted to say to you. I can’t feel anymore what it was I felt at the start. When I look at you the burst of light is a dim, useless nothing. But I have found my light. In Chicago. It’s not someone, but something. It calls to me every night. Our seven years of marriage have been great but the end is eminent. I may come back to you if my light fades or if you call to me in the dark night as the white dove. You must not try to find me. All I will say is it is a swank little Burlesque club. They want me for a manager. My blood thickened at the thought. The blood lust was enough. It summons me. Yet I do not feel anymore. LaChapelle is my calling. Je t’aime. But lust is my new passion.

    Xoxo

Jean Michael.

Golden

Tap. Tap. Tap.
Nothing.
Nothing but silence in the room as the typewriter places its tiny symbols on the freshly cut elm paper. The smell of old books resonated ever so softly throughout the entire house. Perhaps Sylvia was not home. But how then could I feel petit foot steps vibrate the floorboards? It was becoming late as the Golden Sun was being replaced by Cynthia's incandescent glow. At least the migraine had past, but still only three letters indented the page.
MUR
So many places to consider, so many characters, so many thoughts. Perhaps the MURmur of a young child as they are lost in a forest. A soft 'mum' parts from their tiny lips as the skin partakes in its first drop of saliva in an hour. Blocked. My mind is blocked. Perhaps aesthetics and immorality should be my main concern. I could not break from this rut. I needed Sylvia. Her soft skin, pale as ever, her blue eyes and long, dead-straight black hair. Her 1970's summer dresses and perfect lips, a sweet pink. I could kiss them for hours. I still remember our first encounter. The day was rainy and the streets of New York were deserted. She playfully skipped in the rain with her yellow, wooden, straight Umbrella. I was sitting outside Le Ciel, a jazz bar, and a seductive piano wafted through the door. The songs name I am unsure, but its sweet melody placed my eyelids together and upon opening, I saw her.

Meet Deven (The Semi-Alter Ego (:)

Ciao..

My name is Deven, I am Austral-Canadian and I am 25 years old. I majored in philosophy and minored in languages at Monash University. I also received my Dip. Ed. and I am qualified to teach Philosophy, Literature, French, Italian and German. Currently I am teaching in Europe, somewhere, anywhere and everywhere. I would say I was tall and skinny, but not too skinny, and I currently have short brown hair, often changing to obscure colours. I was between girlfriends, but currently I am settle with a 23 year old French girl named Sylvia, she is none less than perfect for me, currently. I have attempted to write the start of my novel and I wish to publish it soon so I can encounter a small fortune useful for purchasing a villa in Venice. I rent out Vespa's in every city and also frequently use public transport, because I love to observe travellers and create them new stories. Anyway, this is me and I will update you shortly...

BYE :) 

P.S - MUSIC IS THE VERY ESSENCE OF OUR SOULS