i feel so goofily optimistic! i have been riding this giddy wave for a while now. wonder lazily when this shall pass. then i get eager about what revelations THAT shall bring, and i know everything will work out just beautifully.
i left my husband because i was tired of being blamed for his shit. my own doledrums, i can assess and make sense of, but when other people's crap becomes my fault also... well, there is nothing i can do about that. and history is repeating itself. it is nice to recognize it early and detach. perhaps that is contributing to my pleasant state of mind: realizing that this time, things will be different. i have repeated the same ineffectual foolishnesses over and over, always wondering why nothing's better, but NOW! HA! so they shall be. i firmly believe that a bullshit-free life will only lead to happiness. it seems to be working thus far.
talked to my best girlfriend today. i was walking from my lair to downtown; ended up in post alley (pike place market), underneath a flowery bowery, an andean musician nearby. my sleeves were pushed up. around me people were lunching, mouths full of falafel and samosas. she spoke of alaska and i could scarcely picture it. i miss her, and i suppose i feel nostagic, but i wouldn't change my environment now for nearly anything. this may be the first time i can ever remember feeling so happy in my surroundings. paris was a close second, but it was always augmented by a perma-travelerness.
ah, paris! (this is spawned twofold: 1. email from my friend in montreal, with whom i played chess at the peace & love hostel in the 11th arrondissiment; 2. the disc jockey's horrific mispronounciation of the raconteurs- excellent song, but i fucking love the white stripes, so)
-ducking into a doorway in the pouring rain whilst meandering around st. germain
-pulp's 'we are the boys' blaring in my walkman as i walked by gare du nord at night (the trick to avoid being fucked with, at least so far: prolonged eye contact with everybody)
-sackfuls of licorice allsorts from monoprix
-getting utterly lost in the winding backstreets of montmartre
-finding my rare bird cd at marche des puces
-being kissed mere minutes after giving french schoolboy a cigarette (he was legal, i hope)
-drinking pernod out of grimy glasses whilst relentlessly hearing manu chao on the hi-fi
-kabob stands everywhere, skewer swiveling right next to the open windows
-metro 1, partially elevated, apartments of happy parisians clearly visible
-being bought a rose at the base of the eiffel tower
-giving other tourists directions
-rue st. etienne, prostitutes glowering from doorways. i once stayed on this street, probably in an unofficial brothel (didn't know at the time). i had my wallet stolen from that hotel. wonderful food stands here.
-turkish toilets, pink toilet paper, no toilet seats, no sinks nearby
these are fond memories now, actually.
today i read 'how to spot an evangelist' (title?) at elliot bay. it is fucking hilarious. i was laughing audibly. apparently it was written by an evangelist. he has a respectable level of self-effacingness. that is a very attractive quality in anyone, isn't it?
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