(no subject)

Mar 06, 2007 17:54

And then I was there. Like a pre-mee, I was shot screaming out of the comfort and warmth of mother-Spain. Whisked away by the hand of fate and thrown into a metal container to incubate for a few hours at high velocity. Goddamn. But I as headed for comfort; headed for a new home, a new source of warmth and comfort. For a couple days anyway. What does the journal say?

The coast.
120 through Valencia, Barcelona, and Tarragona. 160 through the Pyrennes- where did that pyramid come from? Stop for a sacrifice. 160 through Perpingon, Montpellier, and Nîmes. 180 through Avignon, and Valence. Way too fast. If I die my sister gets the books.

Why not like the first time? A glass of Bushmills 10' on the rocks, and a walk in Lyon. A couple beers, a gross French energy bar, and a walk in Valence. A gin-tonic, and a walk in Marseille. What the fuck? These people were crazy- and I loved them both. No talking. No stopping. Just smoking, drinking, and driving. Europe zooming along at 180 in an antiquated Opel somewhere on the A-27. This is living- And dying- And saying good-bye- And saying hello. No not good-bye; hasta luego. For the rest of my life; hasta luego. That's the way to live.

Anaîs.

Like the others? I don't think so.
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