Tuesday, September 21
The easiest way to lose something is to want it to badly
Since I came back for London I've been quiet, not by choice but due to the curcomstenses. Who am I supposed to talk to I wonder. By not talking I've realized something : When I have company, I don't really do much talking anyway. So I'm okay with silence. I enjoy it. I listen to my own breathing, adjust it so that it'll match the base in whatever song I might have on. And I think it's gonna be along long time until touchdown brings me around again to find I'm not the man they think I am at home, oh no no no. I sip wine slowly, exhale smoke into my pillow and pretend that the world does not exist. Or maybe that my apartment is the world. My bedroom is France of course, bathroom Spain, kitchen Italy, hallway Germany, library USA and so on. I change what language I think in when I move from room to room.
Maybe Im going insane. Or maybe I've got the whole world in my apartment, and in that case I might just be the luckiest girl alive.
( Amanda, Im terribly sorry but I will not answer my phone until the atarax has left my body. Give it a day or two)