In all this light, all I feel is dark,
Had the sun without it's warmth.
I'm freezing.
When did your love, when did your love grow cold?
The closer I get, the further I have to go,
To places we don't know.
Thursday 28 February 2013
You and I
In all this light, all I feel is dark,
Had the sun without it's warmth.
I'm freezing.
When did your love, when did your love grow cold?
The closer I get, the further I have to go,
To places we don't know.
Sunday 24 February 2013
A little update
So I've been M.I.A for a while. Most of my days have been preoccupied by the usual; the routine of university, cooking, cleaning and mes devoirs, the emotional struggle that normally encumbers my time and the occasional deep contemplation of life. I still haven't figured anything out yet but I will get back to you when I do. So far, one thing that has really stuck with me is reading something along the lines of, 'Nothing anybody does is because of you, it's a reflection of themselves'. I wish I could remember where I read it, because I think it would've saved me a lifetime's worth of frustration, resentment and exasperation if I had only known it sooner.
Friday 15 February 2013
Monday 11 February 2013
Baby steps
Happy one month anniversary, Bordeaux! It's a short relationship we've had so far, but you've definitely made your mark.
I sat in class today wondering whether I had changed from the petrified, naive girl that arrived here thirty-three days ago and for a long time I was disappointed because I couldn't think of anything that had changed for me. I was still walking the same black dog I was in Australia, still struggling with the most mundane of tasks, like buying stamps from La Poste, and still missing home just as much.
But as I was walking home, a man stopped me and asked for the time. And, without any hesitation, I looked at my phone and replied, "Dix heures quarante". It doesn't sound like much, but it was significant for me. I didn't panic, I didn't scramble for the correct words, I didn't mumble something incoherent and walk away to disguise the fact that something as simple as 10:40 was too difficult for me to place together without looking like a fumbling idiot... I didn't even think, I just said it. I felt like it marked my uneventful, anticlimactic entrance into the French language.
In fact, I found later today, upon more reflection, there have been other, more important lessons I've learnt here. I was a petrified, naive girl when I arrived here, I cried for most of the 7 hour flight from Abu Dhabi to Paris. But I just so happened to be seated next to a French psychologist who gave me the best advice of anyone, and it was that no matter how poorly you can speak a language, how out of place you look and feel, people will warm to you if you just smile and try, try and smile.
I'm still nowhere near the person I want to be by the end of this year, but these are my baby steps to success.
I sat in class today wondering whether I had changed from the petrified, naive girl that arrived here thirty-three days ago and for a long time I was disappointed because I couldn't think of anything that had changed for me. I was still walking the same black dog I was in Australia, still struggling with the most mundane of tasks, like buying stamps from La Poste, and still missing home just as much.
But as I was walking home, a man stopped me and asked for the time. And, without any hesitation, I looked at my phone and replied, "Dix heures quarante". It doesn't sound like much, but it was significant for me. I didn't panic, I didn't scramble for the correct words, I didn't mumble something incoherent and walk away to disguise the fact that something as simple as 10:40 was too difficult for me to place together without looking like a fumbling idiot... I didn't even think, I just said it. I felt like it marked my uneventful, anticlimactic entrance into the French language.
In fact, I found later today, upon more reflection, there have been other, more important lessons I've learnt here. I was a petrified, naive girl when I arrived here, I cried for most of the 7 hour flight from Abu Dhabi to Paris. But I just so happened to be seated next to a French psychologist who gave me the best advice of anyone, and it was that no matter how poorly you can speak a language, how out of place you look and feel, people will warm to you if you just smile and try, try and smile.
I'm still nowhere near the person I want to be by the end of this year, but these are my baby steps to success.
Wednesday 6 February 2013
I've been going through a lot lately...
And I feel like I've been saying that for over a year. Bordeaux is both a steep learning curve and an amazing opportunity for me, but right now I just don't want to deal with the challenge of learning a new language, the monotony of cooking and cleaning, the difficulties of French administration. Right now, I don't want my patience to be tested, I don't want to learn any more about myself and other people, I don't want to explore and I don't want to experience.
I just want everything to stop, because I've been going through a lot lately and I've been saying that for over a year. And right now, I'm too tired to fix all of this by myself.
I just want everything to stop, because I've been going through a lot lately and I've been saying that for over a year. And right now, I'm too tired to fix all of this by myself.
Sunday 3 February 2013
Libre
So this is another Sunday I can successfully write off, having just arrived home at 2 in the afternoon on about 4 hours sleep. The French party hard.
This new lifestyle is something truly novel to me. Back at home, living an hour away from the city was undeniably the bane of my existence. Any night out would have to be carefully orchestrated days in advance: How would we get there? How would we get home? Would anyone be willing to drive? Where could we park? What time will we get home? Does anyone have work the next day? It was always a discussion that left me wondering whether I really wanted to go out, whether all the meticulous organisation was even worth it. Then there was the fact that I lived with my parents, and an empty bed at 3am would neither go unnoticed or unpunished. A night out was a rarity, and even then I was always busy fighting my demons to enjoy it.
But while I've been struggling with the grand changes of this new life, the most amazing thing about it is the freedom; if I want to go out, I will. There's nothing obstructing my choices, there's no one to answer to and finally, I can take full responsibility for my actions because I made the choices by myself, unhindered by obligations, pressures or judgements. I think this is the type of liberation I was so desperately craving in Sydney and I think it's also a tiny step closer to the independence I needed all of 2012.
This new lifestyle is something truly novel to me. Back at home, living an hour away from the city was undeniably the bane of my existence. Any night out would have to be carefully orchestrated days in advance: How would we get there? How would we get home? Would anyone be willing to drive? Where could we park? What time will we get home? Does anyone have work the next day? It was always a discussion that left me wondering whether I really wanted to go out, whether all the meticulous organisation was even worth it. Then there was the fact that I lived with my parents, and an empty bed at 3am would neither go unnoticed or unpunished. A night out was a rarity, and even then I was always busy fighting my demons to enjoy it.
But while I've been struggling with the grand changes of this new life, the most amazing thing about it is the freedom; if I want to go out, I will. There's nothing obstructing my choices, there's no one to answer to and finally, I can take full responsibility for my actions because I made the choices by myself, unhindered by obligations, pressures or judgements. I think this is the type of liberation I was so desperately craving in Sydney and I think it's also a tiny step closer to the independence I needed all of 2012.
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