looking for my marsian voice

At first it was a place to sit and look at the stars and now it’s come alive with the energy of the people who breath the air that smells of lavender soap, and baking bread, and piss, who sit at the bar next door from morning to night drinking pastis, singing to themselves and avoiding work. For some reason, I feel something for them. They love this city even more than I do and don’t notice they are unemployed but only that they are free. Is it strange that I fell in love… With a city? In truth, I’ve fallen in love before with other cities, but not like this. And for the life of me I can’t figure out what it is about Marseille that’s captured me. Maybe the deep turquoise of the ocean, rocky beaches, the way the ancient forts and cathedrals, houses with red tiled roofs ascend from the ocean creating uneven steps that turn a shade of gold at sundown. Sure it’s beautiful, but I’ve seen so many extraordinary cities, and in truth, this one lives up to its reputation for being filthy… But maybe that’s in part what I love about it. Similar to when we fall in love with a person their quirks, their flaws, imperfections, become our favorite details.