Archives de mot-clé : Paris

Paris, jour deux

Le 26 décembre I slept and I slept and I slept, not even curious to check the time, how decadent am I! I rise to smoky skies and a misty rain. The aluminum roofs cry sweetly like an old nickel. Oh, … Lire la suite

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Paris, I have come to say good-bye.

le 25 décembre Me voici. A double espresso noisette to use the free wifi at MacDo in the airport, it’s the same routine every time. Let me count. This visit makes nine. I wasn’t excited. I thought, in fact, that … Lire la suite

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Youniverse

Sometimes you hear people say: « I think the universe is trying to tell me something. » Were I this type of person, then this winter I would have said that I think the universe is trying to tell me that I … Lire la suite

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Humility ain’t nothin’ but a wonderful opportunity.

Well this is certainly humbling. The girl who ran fifty-one marathons is now a woman with very sore legs after a mere nine kilometre run. It has been three or four months since the last time I ran. A run … Lire la suite

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Water

A finger up the nose, a tear down the cheek. Social ineptitude, a bruised knee. People I pass on the street. Questions in my head, and a quivering soul. Catching each person I pass at specific and singular moments in … Lire la suite

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Fuck Fiction!

The only thing I’ve put in this poor body today is a coffee, the toxic fumes of half a cigarette, and some of my own blood from a scab I picked. I’m hungry. I’m on a train bound for The … Lire la suite

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Bukowski 102

I have come to the realization that it is important to force myself to write every day. I am reading Hemingway’s “A Moveable Feast” which is about him and his writing and a bit about his process and his writing … Lire la suite

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