"Paris is always a good idea," he said. But our second date was boarding a flight at JFK to London, so maybe he just thinks getting away is always a good idea.
Leaving my Soho sanctuary for another adventure, we're wrapping up a summer spent around the world. I haven't even had time to decorate my empty loft, too many flights and late nights.
Our first day in Paris, we walked through the city with the druken haze of a jet lag. I lost all anxiety and just wanted to wander. I wrote pages in my phone, words flowing like rivers after a night spent on the plane. In some garden, which I will never recall the name of, it occurred to me that I had been thinking inside limitations. Artsitically limiting my work and my mind. Paris was just what I needed to get outside myself. To see the world from the flip side.
That first night we wandered into one of the hotel bars, The Hemingway. The bartender immediately took a liking to me, and said I reminded him of Alison Mosshart from the Kills, she was a regular there. He said I looked like a real rock n roller, hair dirty from the day and hiding my body inside an oversized black leather jacket.
We woke up early and stayed up late. I couldn't wrap my head around everything, and I guess that's ok. Thursday night I stayed out on the balcony chain smoking and drinking a half bottle of champagne. I listen to Interpol and Iron and Wine. I sat in my lingerie, unseen by everyone including you. I felt hidden, above the world observing it, but also invisible.
I sunk into the hotel bed with the deepest dreams, every night I felt as if I left my body. Coffee in the morning was my favorite, endless cups and a basket of bread. One cigarette to follow.
I wish I had more time here, I don't absorb things very quickly. I have to soak in the waters, get lost and get found again.
I am here to see the world with you, but the more we see, the less we have to say.