Published: June 23rd 2010June 23rd 2010
Hallo tout le monde!
J'espere que tout va bien chez vous, et que vous tout trouverez beaucoups des petits details dans le jour a vous faire exploser la tete!
Today: Woke up at 8. Put feet on floor. Took one breath. "Van leaves in five" I heard. Hustled to cabinet. Took out box of French cereal. Same shit, different country. Put in the fattiest milk; like whale blubber. Slurped it up and probably made alot of irritating sounds as I ate. Got in van. Put on headphones. Let music have me. Felt feelings swirling. Realized I was alive and not dead. Imagined surfing in my mind's eye and let it mix with the music. "The ocean breathes salty": can anyone name the artist who sang those lyrics. I'll mail a gift to first correct reply. Got in ocean. Felt like a badass because I can relax now and feel the waves happening, see the waves happening, understand where they will break. still get clobbered from time to time, but get clobbered in a badass style. This chick told me I look like a mix of Johnny Depp and Heath Ledger. I'll accept that. Want to get a photo of me on a surfboard with a clown nose on. You know, take the surfing scene by storm. Maybe Bill Walker surfing as well.
Anyway, back to the plot:
Returned to house. Talked to British chick about the difference between American women and European women. Both of us used so many generalizations, it was obscene. But anything for conversation with another human. Walked to the cafe down the street. Listened to Nick Cave wail on about love and nature and "her". Had a moment where I felt like a spoiled brat to be enjoying such fine things. Asked that voice where the fuck it was coming from. The voice said: "1832". I told it to go back to the old world and let me sing my songs for fuck's sake. Sat in cafe alone. Felt lovely and alone. Drank coffee. Got jacked. Noticed that the chocolate cookie was melting on the saucer in the sun. So ate the cookie. Wrote and more Nick Cave. (Thanks Nick). Returned to house. some lads out back eating fish. Spoke to one who is a DJ in the Alps. Has a huge yellow Goatee and booming voice. So cool he kind of scares me, but i'm so cool anyway it doesn't matter. God bless acting. Good acting = Being real with style.
Now waiting around, doing not much of anything.
Oh yeah, burned my eye last night on a small piece of flying charcoal. Singed the cornea. Was demonstrating my monstrous swimmer's lungs in stoking the fire. Fire said " Back off motherfucka!" and bit me. Saw a smoky halo in the corner of my visual field. Small grey spot on lens above pupil. Rinsed many times. Grey spot fell off. Must have been charred lens. Called Dr. Bessou. Thankfully, he answered.
"Ca va se guerrir" he said, assuring me that it would heal itself. Directed me to buy a disinfectant product at pharmacy to prevent infection. I wondered at the body's ability to heal itslef and thanked god I didn't do permanent damage to an organ. Gave me a little fright, however.
in apprecation of my sense of sight,