aeroport

25 Nov, 22:06, Charles de Gaulle

24 minutes tll boarding. 69 minutes til departure. This is the end of my french sojourn.

So tired, and looking forward to home. But also know i’m gonna miss this faraway land that has in some ways felt like my home. Each time i left paris, i longed to return.

Today was a bit special. I walked and walked, and looked and thought, and soaked it up. A couple of times i reached for my camera, but stopped myself. No photos today. Just enjoy the moments.

I visited proust at Pere Lachaise cemetery. I looked at the names of many dead people, etched into stone.

I made my last purchases, ate my last food, took my last look.

I don’t exactly know why i love paris. A combination of things, i guess. One of those being that it’s new, different, exciting. I wonder if i would love it as much if i were here for 6 years and not 6 weeks. I can’t help thinking that i would. Plenty of films, good food, nice people, and much to inspire me to be creative and to do things. I think i would be fine.

Not to say i’m going to move here. Well, not immediately. I can’t think of this now – I have so much waiting for me in Australia. My favourite people live there. The ones i need around me. The ones i’ve missed. And in my tired worn out state just now, i need to be home. I need to know that home is just 24 hours away.

Maybe i can only move to places if there’s a time limit, for I have difficulty committing to anywhere indefinately. I can’t live in Newcastle. I can live in Sydney, but Sydney is 2 years, for now. Timed with the completion of my degree. And after that, who knows. Maybe Melbourne, maybe paris, maybe somewhere that i’m yet to visit or imagine.

And i quite like not knowing. It’s unfortunate that others may not. But i can’t promise anyone anything if the question involves ‘where’.

Charging my ipod. Playing mine sweeper, watching people, and now writing. Internet is 6 euro per half hour. Ridiculous. So i do these other things to pass the time. I’ll check my email in Singapore. Might even update my facebook status.

I bought the herald tribune to read on the plane. After sleep. It reminds me of jean seberg in ‘a bout de souffle’ (breathless, by godard). There was a shop in Bordeaux named after this film. it mostly sold film scripts and books, but i bought a jean seberg postcard. Another Parisian etranger. Another mirror. But it seems i won’t be witnessing a Parisian street death. Well, not for now.