I’ve been far away. New York -> Paris -> Creuse, Le mariage de Leila et Manu -> Paris -> Brussels BE -> Lueven, Rock Werchter Festival -> Calais -> Ferry UK -> Dover -> Sheffield -> Edinburgh, Scotland -> Balado, Scotland, T in the Park Festival -> Ferry IR -> Belfast -> Kildare, Oxygen Festival -> Dun Laoghaire -> Ferry UK -> Holyhead, Wales -> North London -> Dover -> Ferry FR -> Calais -> Paris. That’s it so far.
Two more weeks to go.

I’m going to explore my favorite place in all of Paris. The Buttes-Chaumont. The most enchanted park.
The waterfalls, the island, the notorious, dark, and sad bridge.

“The secrets of each of you, like those of language and love, are revealed to me each night, and there are nights in broad daylight. You pass close to me, your clothes fly away, your account books open at the page where the dissimulations and the frauds are to be found, the intimacies of your bedroom are revealed, and your heart! Your heart like a hawk-mouth in the sun, your heart like a ship on an atoll, your heart like a compass needle driven mad by a little piece of lead, like washing drying in the wind, like a whining of horses, like seed thrown to the birds, like an evening paper one has finished reading! Your heart is a charade that the whole world has guessed.
Fear nothing, then, either for myself or for your reputation.”

“Fear nothing, then, either for myself or for your reputation, and let me enter the handkerchief shop.” – Louis Aragon