No.2

Let me tell you about my Paris, how I ended up here and what is really happening in this city of Love, Lust and Losers.

It's a sunny day, full of sweaty and anxious people, trying to avoid the sunny side of the street. I woke up at 10 o'clock when S came home. She said "move your ass" and crawled next to me. The next thing I remember is waking up and finding her feet in my face as she had turned upside down to get more space to sleep. I got finally out of bed at noon and then we went to have un petit pique-nique in Parc Monceau. It was rather lovely, excpet there were children everywhere, screaming, running, splashing water and annoying us otherwise, too. I would've wanted to have a glass(or two..)of wine, but S had to work in a few hours and I try my best to avoid drinking alone.

I had such a lovely dream last night about B and me. Nothing really happened in it but the mood and the colours were perfect. I read somewhere that most people's dreams are black&white. I don't know if that's true but my dreams always have colours. This dream had grayish green, grayish blue, dark green, deep brown, warm yellow lights. I was wearing my purple shirt and B had bluish hair for some reason. I love to sleep, dormir plutôt que vivre.. How melodramatic!

Sometimes I feel like Paris is isolated from the rest of the world completely. Eventhough this is probably the most touristy city in the world I still get a feeling that no one really lets anyone into their lives. That no one really even cares. Of course it's not like that but now that I think about it, I don't know anyone who has been born in Paris. Everyone of my acquaintances are born somewhere else; in the North, in the South, in the DOM-TOM, in some other country. I see myself in this little flat of ours and I can imagine huge walls between it and the rest of the Paris, and another wall around Paris, too.

What is really keeping me here is probably the possibility of easy love. Easy Love meaning that here I can find myself someone much more easily than in my even more depressing home country. And eventhough I hate to admit that I'm practically only staying here for love (I really feel kind of ashamed, it is not at all my style to gabble about "boys" and "how wonderful he-and-he is.") it is not all. There's also so much lust and passion here, something I don't want to give up either. And sure this is such a beautiful place to live, sure there're so many museums it's impossible to go through them all, and sure the language is pretty and the culture amazing, but come on people.

Got to go to work tonight, 6 hours of running around sweating like a pig, no time for a single break and then walking home in 2 o'clock. It's somehow purifying, though. You should try it sometimes.