To all those listening, this is my story
About a confused girl and a boy that's boring
So either look at me, stupid and awkward
But you leave and tell me it seems much better
So she'll run away from the problems
She knows distance can't make hearts follow
(a change of pace)
A song that is in my head.
So. Paris.
Day 1
3 hours of sleep the night before made for a very tired-eye journey. As I always roll.
Slept on the airplane from Copenhagen to Charles de Gaulle. Ok, pretended to sleep. Dreamed I changed songs on the iPod, only to wake noticing myself with hanging head and spit dangling from the corner of my mouth. Not changing songs at all. Shuffle.
RER train to Denfernt-Rochereau in Montparnasse, Paris. Check in at Hotel des Voyageurs. Déjeuner dans café Daguerre, du poulet avec des pommes sautées.
Then for some reason. We went to Pasteur. A very interesting bloke, who like experimenting with pasteurization (haha his name, haha). He invented that.
He had a vercy nice abode, very charming indeed. And a really nice grave-place, a crypt to be compared with the one of Napoleon. Gold and intricate decorations.
I love the fact that you can find pâtisseries and boulangeries on practically every street corner. Paris makes you fat. Or makes me fat at least.
Tarte de fraises, éclaire du café et chocolate, du fromage (chevre!), des fraises, baguette, mousse au chocolat, vin du rosé etc.
The room was very nice, and the company too. I'm glad we got to know eachother better.
Missed a certain someone. But I think I messed it up somehow.
Day 2
Musée de Rodin, very interesting. Sculptures by Camille Claudel. L'abandon. Beautiful and thought-provoking, feeling cultural to my very fingertips. getting lost inside a world of art and ideas. Tänkaren. En trädgård. Och mycket regn.
Place des Invalides.
Yes. Des invalides for real, I actually saw one there. But the rest of the people were mostly very (too) healthy and obnoxious tourists. Such as ourselves.
L'église du dome, if it's called that. Somewhat like a Paul Cathedral, only updated in gold. And of course different by the fact that Napoleon's bones are beneath it. Cost money to see his grave, so couldn't be bothered. He was kinda like an asshole anyways, like most bigwigs in history.
Jardin des Tuileries. The last days of the royal family. Guilloutin. And the rest of the bloody history of the French revolution. Not much égalité and fraternité among the tourists there, no sir.
Puddles of rain. Flumm flumm flumm.
Louvren. Just outside, fucking much people.
Place de la Concorde. L'obelisk. Not much to see really, just more people, and a bunch of cars, around this egyptian pillar. Didn't get the charm of it.
Champs-Elysée. Walking there under the flowering chestnut trees, feeling my stomach eating away at itself of hunger. feeling calm and at peace, but still pre-occupied with thoughts of Tokyo. (why??)
Sephora! What a pleasant surprise. Just had to buy something, just because it was Sephora, and just because it was Champs-Elysée. Love that street. If Champs-Elysée was situated in Tokyo, along with the Eiffel Tower, then Tokyo would be absolutely perfect.
L'arc du triomphe. Ate picnic-lunch at the other side of the roundabout, watching the beautiful arch and the confused tourists.
Walked down another avenue. Big street, no shit.
Then we came to a small park, on our way to the Eiffel Tower, where we suddenly were assailed by a hail-storm. Running to take cover, some thunder rolled in aswell. It was quite mighty, and the rain that followed was rena rama syndafloden.
Then we bought an umbrella-ella-ella-eh-eh-eh from an indian little boy who obviously liked sex and asked if i did too. (no reply)
then Eiffel Tower and Champs-de-Mars. Beau, beau, beau. très magnifique.
Found a metro and went home after that.
Much wine later at night. Ojojoj :)
Day 3
Kyrkornas och trädgårdarnas förlovade dag.
Som franskaläraren kallade det.
Since it was the 1st of May, they sold fleurs de lis everywhere. And we went to Notre Dame. Spectacular, spectacular, no word in our vocabular. I was completely lost in reveries about the Hunchback of Notre Dame, just because I love that disney version. Adored it when I was little, used to dress up like Esmeralda, and dance. Really have to read the real novel by Victor Hugo. Seriously, I love french. We're gonna do Baudelaires poems now when we get back to french class in school. Love it.
Promenad utmed Seine.
Boring lunch.
Quartiers Latin
L'église St-Germain. The oldest church in Paris. Beautiful star-spangled ceiling.
café du Flore
St. Sulpice, the Rose Line. Here conspiracy theorists gather to try and de-mystify the myths about this magical line. I don't think Da Vinci meant any harm to the church, and Dan Brown, in my eyes, is a very clever guy. Manipulative but brilliant. Love his works and would never partake in people talking shit about him and his works. The Da Vinci code is a really nice read, even if most of it is just nurture for conspiracy theorists. And there was nothing special about the Rose Line in St Sulpice.
Jardin du Luxembourg. A very nice garden. Little children playing with their mini-boats. Could have stayed there all day. Most days. If only the weather was warm and sunny. Tokyo needs this place too.
Panthéon wasn't open, but we saw the exterior before finding our way to Rue Mouffetard, the oldest street in Paris.
We walked down it twice, hungry for crêpes, but didn't find any that looked good.
Jardin des plants, not a very nice garden. Just strange. Greenhouses taken out of the Harry Potter pc games, loved it, felt like I was inside a computer game, inside the hp world. And found this nice pavilion, on a hill with a labyrinth of buxbom leading up to the top.
A long walk back - tired feet and legs. Hurt.
Cimitière du Montparnasse - Sartre + Beauvoir - they're buried here, nice offerings placed on their tomb. Reminded me of when I was at Tolkien's grave in Oxford. people placed like letters and notes, pens and jewelry, flowers and money, on, beside and everywhere around the grave. Not that they can see it anyway.
Finally got our crêpes at a restaurant. With cidre. Mmmmmmmmm...
Day 4
Started with Musée D'Orsay. Shitload of people, queuing for at least an hour before we even got in. And then it was too packed to really enjoy anything. But saw the Masters, the impressionists.
The paintings that really got to me were Parsifal by Redon, L'enfant au chat by Renoir (magical eyes), Salomé II by Corinth, La charmeuse de serpents by Rousseau, Seule by Lautrec and Naissance de Venus by Alexandre Cabanel.
Art is so amazing. felt so much for just creating a masterpiece myself.
After the aerial needs had been fulfilled it was time for the flesh to get its fill. So we went to the Moulin Rouge. Just kidding. We went there, but didn't go into any of the plentiful whore-houses along Clichy. Le butt de Montmartre is really really beautiful. Went up to Sacre-Coeur after getting lost and walking around all of le butt, just taking in the surroundings and the atmosphere. Picnic at the green slopes under Sacre-Coeur. Lolling in the sun for hours.
Then we went to Café Les Deux Moulins. Amélie de Montmartre's café, the place she worked in the movie. That movie is one of my absolute favorites, just because she is so amazing. Can so see myself in her, that's probably why I love it.
Night - last time with cheap delicious wine, last night in Paris. We finally succeeded to log into facebook, which made me write stuff in tipsyness. hehe, sorry about that.
And yeah. We drank. Me more this time.
Wine is good.
Day 5
My head cannot stand effect from when the night began
And I screw my life up evermore as I puke my lungs out on the floor
And I fuck my life up evermore and I shit my heart out on the floor
Allons-y.
Think something happened to my foot. Somewhere between listening to Dresden dolls, trying to get my camera back from stina, shoving her into the table so that all the chocolate spilled like diarrhea, and playing superman, jumping around in the bed.
I'm sorry I'm such a silly person sometimes. åh herregud.
We went down into the Catacombs. Goth esthetics and beautiful death quotes. And of course the bones of the dead. The skulls grinning at you, life so lost but still so alive. (Du önskar att du ska få ett långt liv, även om du lever varje dag som en död)
Lunch. Fraises. Du soleil, enfin. De la glace et une madame danoise.
Charles de Gaulle n'est pas sympa.
But The Rocket Summer is perfect airport music.
Think I was at the same gate as a member from Less Than Jake. But maybe he just had a fucked up haircut.
Security is a fake
I could have brought a bomb
in my shampoo
And now I'm faking illness
Scared of being exposed to the world
Burnt my tongue and retreated
Thoughts. That guy is really cute. Zac Effron look-alike. A glance and I want him. Next moment, I find myself wishing I was a supermodel. So that all guys would want me. And then the recital of all y flaws and faults follow. I definitely think that I gained at least 2 kilos here in Paris.
Patheticness to new heights.
And to finish off with some nice words I scribbled down, letting my mind fly away with me, waiting for take.off.
I'm worse than what I hate
The greatest hypocrite of all
There's a million disadvantages in a soft look
The moment of make-up, make-out, take-out
Street lamps fading in the backseat of a car
Roundabout kisses fading in memory
Living the lies of untruth
kids in designer gear
lost everything but what they wear
and they'll soon lose that too
Undressing under hungry eyes
manipulative madness
and lost hands
bury themselves in indiscretion
So far from what they really crave
the bed will become their grave
