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Final Note from Paris

March 2018

Though the novelty of flying passed long ago, from the airport it seems impossible this will machine will carry more than 800 lives across the Atlantic.

Passports in pocket—one digital, one paper. And digital is a toy they say. And I'm told this paper one holds sway. But tell me this, navy blue: given I'm white and you are too then do we know what it's like to live in the papers we've never read?

Nearly every corner seems to have a cafe. One difference becomes apparent: unlike America, strangers talk in French cafes.

If I had joined the military, would my words have more authority? Or would I drift? Heard the making of a real man is his war. Heavy the war is here. Receiving end of the fixed triggers. Status symbol for their fixers.

The sign, YPG, is in support of Yekîneyên Parastina Gel, the People's Protection Units, a militia of the Kurdish Democratic Union Party supported by the United States and other nations in the fight against ISIL. The protest was prompted by comments from President Erdogan of Turkey that the militia was a terrorist threat.

Updates that trace locations gone and going. In French, you must always be going to someplace. You cannot just go. Plus three languages, attendants speak, facilitate the instructions. And they keep assuming I am French—well, I am Cajun, a southern son, full America as anyone can be. So, take your pick. Whatever it'll be, I just want to get home like every other soul on this ship.

There are curtains between classes through which to slip. Heard what's there. Don't have to look at it (see digital)—despite boundaries (see international) everyone hears the mouths’ lying lip.