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Bonjour Paris,

Here we are again – you and me. How does it feel to have my undivided attention? Not because I visit as many jazz clubs, cabaret shows, vernissages, vintage balls or see my mostly-artist friends as possible, but precisely because I am merely here. I haven’t even been to the river; I’m not anxious to go there – definitely not from Montmartre, perhaps precisely because I’m not anxious at all. 

Have I been testing myself to see if I am worthy of my true self, my source? By denying my ego all sorts of validations and hidden validations, layers of them for my layers of ego, including the one that comes with this thought? By going with the flow? No – by being still? No – by simply being? No, I am free, with the knowledge that if life is a river it will carry on flowing even if I don’t name it or turn a verb into a noun; that I’m not the waterman or even the waves. If life is a river I am water and I can’t help being wet even if I don’t know I am water. I am worthy even if I don’t know I am worthy.

I still do things, because as long as I live in this body I am karma and karma means action. I just haven’t been doing things as if they are direct consequences of my past – my thoughts, or the cause of my future – my thoughts. To simply walk when I’m walking, to simply smile when I’m moved to, to not try to gain anything from my interaction with a stranger – not even the interaction itself – there is an impact, for sure, but I do not plan it; to not try to explain why I do what I do, and yet I haven’t murdered anyone. But what is doing? Like breathing? Is breathing a consequence of my thoughts? Even my thoughts are spontaneous, and so am I. To be free is to not try to be free, you simply are. 

I am free not because I know what I want. I don’t know what I want, really, because I don’t know myself, really. I know if life is a river I am water, but I know life isn’t a river and so I know not what I am. You see how your knowledge negates your knowledge of knowledge? Oscar Wilde once said something along the lines of if you know what you want to be you will invariably become it; that is your punishment, and if each day you are unsure of who you are and what you know you will never become anything, and that is your reward. I know nothing, I don’t even know if I actually know nothing and that is fucking liberating. I have been seeking, freely, apparently, all sorts of knowledge just to prove I know nothing and that is what makes life fucking fun – or makes fucking fun, period.

If life is a river I am water; when I think I am still, I am still flowing – still wet, at least. But do I know for sure I am water, or am I merely trying to explain my constant wetness? Pun is always intended. I can’t help being wet, I am water! Or am I? I’m joking; I’m not questioning. I’m not even questioning why I’m not questioning because I won’t know the answer, because when I think I know the answer it won’t be the answer. Things are only confusing if you’re trying to explain them. Language is the barrier – says a poet! For the mind, the creator of all illusions, this is what’s called ‘the unbearable lightness of being’, I guess. Oh to be mindless! Oh to be awake! Oh to be free!

Four days in Paris and I haven’t seen any of my friends but do I feel alone? No, because they are also water. We are connected even if there are no strings connecting us – there are no strings connecting molecules inside our body, only space. Space is not nothing, just as silence is not nothing. Silence is the base for sound as space is the base for our closeness. It’s not being passive either, even if I don’t interact with all these gorgeous and stylish humans and structures – on est à paris, which I do, simply because it feels good – and yet I haven’t murdered anyone. 

As water, I can’t help participating in the river we call life, or life I call the river. In fact, I feel so loved, as much as the love I feel for you. The mirror isn’t broken, Paris, it gives me undivided attention.

paris, le 27 septembre 2026

je t’embrasse !

d.o.