“Un instant”, in time

17th of August, 2013

I’ve been lost a lot - I remember being heavily confused at the time, leaving my best knowledge behind me, best friends, potential loves, old and new.

I remember being lost as a child, I have been lost as an adult, shit — I am lost at times now. But I think it is an important and integral part of our journey, sometimes you need help with a bit of direction, and that is one million percent ok.

Here I found a journal entry from a time I had in Paris, mid summer 2013, August, date being the 17th.

It has been re-edited a bit for this post, but you get the general idea.

Prendre plaisir.

“It was 0345, a bit damp and muggy with the odd stench of sewer smell and cigarettes through the Le Marais suburb, in the 4th Arrondissement area of the French capital. 

One incredible night out, the journey to bed involving kicking cans & stones in the streets - playing football in a way with the puddles as goals, one side of the street the fish mongers are busy at work slinging in the previous days catch to the basement cuisine. 

The porters have half smoked darts hanging from their mouths with tilted toques and hair coming out of it to the side. 

Plongeur’s lifting large fish from the mouths to tails, crates full of salmon and trout layered with ice stacked up on one another.

A few buildings up on the other side of the street have men cooped in groups, hiding in doorways or stairwells passing about illegal substances — “l'usage de drogues”, brown paper bagged bottles top shelf liquor and wine that is cheaper than bottled water.

Women of the night discussing and hurling deals, “Parlez vous français — €250, €150, anything” .. All my brief knowledge knew was “je ne comprends pas”.. I do not understand.

Alleyways littered with mess and stray animals, the odd person sleeping. 

Dimly lit streets, as I look up seeing rain start to drizzle through the fluorescent lights.

My accommodation was still a few blocks, however all I remember thinking was — Geez, I am just happy to be here, healthy and alive.. with five euro’s in change in my back pocket, enough for a cheap côtes du rhône, for the rest of my walk home.”

Merci 

SBG