The Strength

I have been under a spell of feeling not well this entire week, and I figured out today that I probably have hay fever thanks to Paris's seemingly nonexistent greenery and flowery. I'm pretty sure that I got sick simultaneously, though, so hopefully that part is gone. Well, I'm here and feeling decent at least, but very tired-like.

Damn, Paris is getting boring! It's probably because I didn't really hang out with anybody this weekend. Also, I haven't made spring break plans yet - should I visit Italy and London, or Japan? Shh... I think I might just travel alone to Amsterdam (bad idea???) to see Eurovision performers. Yes, specifically for that purpose. What, you act like I know much about Europe?

I guess I should browse the infinite internet or the really thick Lonely Planet guide for Europe in my room. But that's too much work.

I'm going to be home in exactly 2 months. It's 30/3, then it'll be 30/5, then 5/30, the (North) American way. Also kind of the Japanese way. Probably the Central African Republican way too? They have their embassy nearby my house.

This spring is going to be tough. It'll test my tolerance of myself, of other people, of new things, of old repeating things. I'm going to try going running tomorrow specifically because I want to know whether it'll help or hurt against the allergies. I was able to go through frisbee practice indoors on Friday, still sick, without much trouble. I didn't go Sunday because I wanted to get enough sleep to get over the sickness. Well, sleep doesn't kill allergies. A lack of sleep cheers them on, though.

I gained a little weight this weekend and I'm still really craving food. This is good for muscle building, but, um, weights are integral to that. Don't have those. Well, there's always the wooden exercise structures in the (now pollen-filled) Bois de Boulogne. And my Push-Up Pro grips. Fellas and femmes: don't buy these. They slide like nothing else; if you don't have a good surface, they will fail. Luckily, the carpet in the living room isn't too bad for them, but still... I need this shit for my wrists, man. I guess I'll have to buy Perfect Pushup when I get back.

In 2 months.

I stop a lot when I blog now. This isn't freewriting; it's more like stopwriting. At least the stops aren't that long. Keep in mind that when you are actually writing, with a pen, you can think as you're writing. I think it's a better process, actually. Lets your brain think things through before you get them down. Whereas typing, unfortunately...

I read a book about photography called La chambre claire by Roland Barthes. It was really good at first but I was left disappointed because all the author seemed capable of discussing was seeing the essence of his dead mother in a picture of her when she was 5 years old. It seriously went nowhere from there and was really weakly argued. He saw death in photography when you could easily just take a quick counterargument route and say, well, why can't you see life instead?

It's just that death is seen as a more serious topic and is more accepted as such in academia, I guess, despite the fact that the guy was trying to be as un-academic as possible. I guess when you're French and heavily embedded and submerged in all this academic shit there's not much you can do. This city is stuck in its history and seems to have too much of it to learn much from it. Those who have information overload are doomed to repeat it.

That's why I listen to Plies. It's my drank. "Just stand in front of me and pose. You touch mine, I touch yo's." Unfortunately, I'm losing my taste for the bad flavor. That's the difference between bad music and beer - somehow people can't tire of the latter's awful, look at me I'm a man I can have a bigger belly than you taste.

And alcohol sucks. All of it. At least when you have nobody to get frisky with in the meantime. But even then, it's really just unnecessary.

Peace.