Greylands

dunno if anyone is reading this coz it probably seems like I droppe doff the face of the planet.

right now I'm typing this from an internet/ international phone booth shop in the suburbs of Paris.

I walked here from anna's house in one of those desperate states of near tears. We don't cuddle in bed, barely kiss. LBD has taken hold. She's cold, I'm cold, she spends her entire days translating subtitles on a film she made and the only time we talk is in front of her parents. Right now its lunch time and I'm missing the four course 2 hour extravganza that is the daily repaste.

The weather is cold. I'm wearing a doudoune which is a great name for a full lenght parka that feels like a doona. I'm more fleunt in frenhc than I've ever been - even following the news and anna's parents tlaking over the top of it and reading the canard enchainee and getting the jokes.

I bleached my hair blond and with my anglophone accent still am quite etranger. this time I probably aml enjouying Paris moire than before. love the cold, the lack of sports news, love the architecture, and I'm diong lots of drawingds becqause I'm afraid its my last time here. There's a big fat lacuna and its in my love life this time. What a cheesy line. but it's true; shit.