Paris I love you

Paris. My birth town.
My tour Eiffel, my Moulin Rouge, and all those little things I used to say while going back home, seating at the back of my grand prent's car.

Paris, I love you. You, the most beautiful and outstanding place on earth.

I am not used to post that kind of topical post, on a blog that is not politically oriented, on a place meant to express joy and be fun.

But my hometown is bleeding. All those deaths. People wanted to have fun.

I can't stop crying, looking at those joy-filled faces, belonging to the ones who lost their lives.


I know it's not a good tribute. Not original. Not even an interresting post.
But please, Paris, listen to my anger. My voice. My aching soul.

Paris, I love you. You, the owner of my heart.