I am exhausted.
I have taken pictures of bees, gotten lost in city streets, biked on highways, made friends with strangers, travelled alone, couchsurfed with a family, and overall broken every fear I ever had.
I am tired and worried and hungry and lonely.
I need to stop listening to so much Devandra Banhart.
Paris is very large. The chocolate crossoints are making me large.
I'm in a physical withdrawal. I don't think I'm good at going without cuddling.
Since I've been in Paris I've taken a nap with Victor Hugo, had lunch with Monet and Marie Antoinette, looked at art with Dali, and probably shared a drink and a view with either Fitzgerald or Hemingway. Maybe both.
Paris is dead, though. It's famous for it's tombs, it's past.
I need a city more alive.