lundi, décembre 11
Je ne peux pas dormir. (I can't sleep) I've been obsessing over reading other people's blogs (who live in France) all day. I didn't get any work done on my thesis...to compensate I've stayed up all night thinking that at some point I will begin to work on it again. And that, dear friends, is most certainly not going to happen. I've changed the formatting on my blog several times and can't for the life of me figure out how to list a set of links to the things I like to read/watch on my blog. (help!) But mostly I'm just at a rough spot in my life. School is almost over, it's time for me to worry about getting a real job. Pay off my student loans. Find a 'stable' job. Worry about insurance-y type things. Boo to that. Reading these blogs all day has made me realize how much I miss France. It certainly doesn't make matters any easier that these bloggers whom I envy are all married to wonderful and beautiful French people and living in whimsical houses & apartments. Their lives are all so adorable; even moments of difficulty seem endearing with their little revelations of cultural misunderstandings or charming language miscommunications. Which is where I want to be right now, at least, I think? My very dear Friend (whom I simply call Friend because that is what we call each other) and I have moments of absolute dismay where we turn to each other and say, "Let's go." Let's go to Paris, let's go to Buenos Aires, let's drive to the airport and buy a one-way ticket to anywhere but here. I lust to leave. To just walk away and say, "no thank you". I suppose the fact that I've been in contact with a certain someone who was a very big part of my past plays into my whole disorientated state of being. This picture was from one of the last times I saw him, and actually, from the last time I was in France. It was taken from the top of a volcano in central France. At the definite end of our relationship, where all the words that had been said seemed to have just faded away...or maybe we just said them a little quieter each day until we didn't say them at all. But that's another long & complicated (tragic & lovely) story. And, well, what's the point of getting into a larger issue at this time of night? There is something to be said for blogging though, it feels almost therapeutic at times. So, yes. Life right now feels overwhelmingly ostentatious. It's whirling around at ever increasing speeds and I find myself turning away from everything and everyone. I just want to be still. I just want to lock my door and dream.