tired, really tired, and it's nice to know that someone out there happens to be reading this (that's you james) courage, schmourage, i think my life is too full so lets take a trip down memory lane ... 4 years ago, in a land far far away, at a garden in Nice, France, with the sprinklers showering freshly blooming flowers under the morning sun, sitting on a bench, quietly unfolding a single sheet of looseleaf paper i see paper white paper with lines made from trees i see folds in the paper i alone yet in the group, watching the sidewalk pass beneath, sidewalk, meant for walking, cement, calcium something that keeps it all together before my time or even too far after