I wish i could tell you that i was sitting on the floor infront of my french balcony looking down over Montmartre, the dull sound of a few cars blending in with the night sounds of Paris, only a few stars visible up above. An empty wine bottle at my feet and the shrill sounds of my friends laughter still strong in my memory. Paris doesn't sleep, it just lives with the motto that if you keep drinking you wont wake up hung over.
Paris sits by the Seine, drinking wine, smoking and talking deep thoughts while quoting Voltaire.
You might be wondering were i am, too bad i wont tell you. Just imagine i'm sitting where i told you, some parts of it is true.
Today, i have been living with my family for three weeks. Soon almost four weeks of Paris.
Its impossible to describe what all this is like, mostly because none of us here can comprehend anything of what is really happening.
It's lonely here, even in a room full of people that are in the same situation as yourself its lonely.
I'm losing myself more and more, sometimes i forget what parts of me i'm trying to perserve. I adapt so easily, i lose myself too easily.
I dont know what to say,
It's amazing here?
I'm having the time of my life?
This was the write choice?
I love Paris, if i was in year three i probably would have stayed.
But i'm coming home. There is no use missing Sweden because sooner than i know it i'll be back and I might not ever move back to Paris. I'll be sitting in my room in Enskede, missing everything that is here, everything that i'm now starting to take for grantid.
My head is pounding,
too much wine? Just tired.
Closing my window, going to bed. Turning off the light.