Purgatory

There is a city
Where
Everything must
Always stay
The same.
When the buildings
Decay
And collapse,
They rebuild them
In exactly the
Same fashion.
Nothing ever
Changes
And everything
Stays in
Stasis.
They must
Relive
The same day
Over and over
Again
For all of
Eternity.
They think
This is romantic,
I think this
Is ghastly.
I never want
To go to this
Place ever
Again.
Some would
Call it
Purgatory.
I would call
It
Hell.
I hope it burns
To the ground.
Then the
People who
Live in eternal
Torment
Will
Finally be
Free.

Parisian Tragedy

The attack in France is so sad. Although such awful instances have happened before in other major cities across the years, Madrid, London, New York, Dublin and so on, there is something particularly awful about this Parisian tragedy. I imagine only an attack on Rome would be quite so equally poignant and symbolic, and would be likely to resonate quite so deeply with European citizens. 

I mention this, as Paris, like Rome is a place you associate with great beauty, culture, art. A place that upon mere mention has a soul stirring profundity and will reconcile in the mind many great romantic connotations, and above all, all that is quite so beautiful about Europe itself. A place that contains much of France’s great cultural heritage, and the heritage of many around the world in far diverse places. Although I cannot say if the attackers had an appreciation for such symbolism in their planning, or they perhaps just considered Paris simply a soft-target, it has resonated with me deeply.

My thoughts and prayers are with the French people and all others who may be affected directly and indirectly.