going to italy this weekend! stoked!
i can be on the other side of the world watching the sunrise over the côte d’azur and somehow i think it’d be more beautiful with you next to me.
heading to monaco for the day, then lazy french sunday tomorrow to spend reading and half asleep on the beach
My grandpa has Alzheimer’s so he has no idea who my grandma is but everyday for the last three or four months he brings her in flowers from their garden and asks her to run away with him and be his wife and everyday she says she already is and everyday the smile my grandpa gets on his face is the most beautiful heartfelt thing I have ever seen.
this morning is full of ‘it seemed like a good idea at the time’ moments
just because rum is 10 euros doesn’t mean you should buy it
tomorrow makes two weeks in france already. so beautiful here that at times it’s hard to believe. the french rush nothing and things like people watching during your morning coffee and skipping stones in the ocean are perfectly acceptable ways to spend one’s time. i spend my mornings in class with an amazing professor who talks to me all morning passionately about politics and art and history. the rest of the time i spend reading amazing old books and walking on the promenade and playing with the stones on the beach and swimming in the ocean and exploring the little cobble stone streets of la veille ville, where half the people are italian and there’s a gelato store every half kilometer.
trying to get my computer fixed in a foreign country. this should be fun. i’m tempted to just buy a new one.
lazy sunday, eating a baguette and watching bad television and the rain from outside my window.
got drunk as shit last night and everyone else is sleeping for ages. im just here awake and ready to go again
i don’t wanna lose you now, i’m lookin right at the other half of me
the vacancy that sat in my heart is a space and now you’re home
show me how to fight for now and i’ll tell you baby
it was easy coming back here to you once i figured it out
you were right here all along
it’s like your my mirror, my mirror standing back at me
i couldn’t get any bigger with anyone else beside me
in hell you have to explain every one of your text posts to a sweet old lady from the 1800s
aggressively reads your readmores to make sure you’re okay