i.
how can it be that they simply walk by,
while I, in contrast, stand stupid in awe.
cliffs veiled in fog
the lights of Geneva
mountains framing mountains framing valleys.
when did they forget to look?
when did they become accustomed?
ii.
when I'm lonely I stare at the pictures on my wall.
the same faces are repeated often,
and I try to memorize them so that next time I'm lonely
I won't lock myself in my room.
but I can't.
I can picture the faces of people I met yesterday,
but not the faces I've looked upon for years.
iii.
my mind struggles to wrap itself around new grammar,
words,
and pronunciations.
I'm supposed to be learning a new language.
instead it seems as if I'm forgetting two.
iv.
head pounding,
heart racing,
lungs burning,
legs aching.
**** Le Saleve.
v.
cycle of loneliness:
something you see, or hear, or do,
reminds you of something you know, or knew.
thinking of something you know or knew,
especially if it's not there with you,
will make you dream of it a time or two.
which makes you think of things that you
used to see, or hear, or do.
which reminds you of things you know, or knew.
in turn reminding you of him, or her, or them.
and we all know what that means...
chocolate.
vi.
yesterday, a beautiful golden boy sat by my side at dinner.
he smiled at me with his bright blue eyes,
and he winked when he said my name.
today, I hoped that he'd sit there again.
I even left a chair empty. (just in case)
but today, he sat by the girl with the hair.
I always knew I didn't like her.
vii.
together we sit at a bus-stop.
we missed the 10h25, so we'll have to wait an hour.
you gave me your coat because I was shivering.
the sleeves are so long they reach the hem of my skirt.
you rested your head on my shoulder a few minutes ago,
your hair just brushes my cheek.
it smells good and manly, just like your coat.
but all I can think of is that I have to ***,
and there is nowhere to go but the woods.
little things i've written down over the 3 weeks I've been in France so far. all from true experiences. more to come.
