Ahh... April...

My favourite journal is the one that dates from June 19th 2000 until December 23rd 2003. There is something so heartbreaking, poignant and real about all of the entries in it. Living in my real first apartment without my family, breaking down while writing my thesis, being so afraid, but living without fear, drinking coffee and smoking in the university corridors... Wine from the bottles hidden in my backpack, poetry and music, dancing all night long. I miss Aymeric playing 100 Years every Saturday night for me at the Mark XIII. Caramel vodka shots! We were all so smart and ready to make something happen. We could all sit around a table in a bar and talk for hours and hours and hours. You can't talk in bars here... You can only drink and watch people make fools out of themselves. I just need more than this - playing dumb is just plain boring.

It scares me a little that the July 12th 2002 entry describes exactly how I feel right now. It's too personal to even copy bits out of, but it just makes me wonder if I keep running away from those feelings, and that they will always catch up with me wherever I am...



Luna and me, 5 Rue Crepu, 38000 Grenoble, France, June 2001