there's this store across the street from the universite de philo in paris, in the 6iem, around the corner from saint germaine, where they sell the most incredible medical skeleton models- perfect models, perfect proportions of our skeletal system.

I've always dreamed and fantasized about buying a skull

I've always been a secret goth too.

I have been home for one month, one long arduous death defying month

when I close my eyes i grasp for memories of the street corner on rue des ecoles, my last visit to the left bank 

my sense of smell has been weakened by the everlasting rain, the tumult of my senses being defeated by weather and my eyes being blinded by the overcast sky

i have chosen to live so briefly in this place yet i am overcome by emotion every time i think of returning to a city that bowed down and kissed both my cheeks soundly

i am haunted by cafes, of kiwi fraisiers, of vanilla bourbon millefeuilles, of immaculate dressing and art that moves me to a higher sense.

i've forgotten how to live and yet have continued the way i did before, like a year never happened.

WOE.

i need sensibility back.