Presque, la liberte.

Il a l'air que j'attends pour cette jour pour un longtemps. Un jour que je pensais beaucoup. Quelquefois il entre dans mes reves. Le tour Eiffel, Notre Dame, Sacre Coeur. Les petites rues ont suivi, la langue de francais partout. C'etait mervellieux. Et maintenant le jour dont les reves ont devenu un realite est ici. Maintenant.

Mon futur, c'est demain.

Nouvelle Zealand, ou France?
Christchurch ou Paris?

Oui, jai un preference.

Just me and my surroundings.

Wandering aimlessly, unaware where my feet are taking me. I trot on. Seemingly oblivious to my current whereabouts. No knowledge of the direction of 'home'. Smiling at passers-by who know I'm entranced. Entranced by the city that brings out my best, encapsulated by my surroundings, noticing the fly on the pavement, the gum under the old man's seat. The overcast day fails to place a blunder on my happiness, enlightening me futhermore to where I am, what I'm doing. Trawling the streets like I have no place to go. Others are mere drawings on my painting of life. I gasp in the air, like it will soon be gone.

I am purely enthralled by this city of lights, city of love, city all mine.

Ignition.

Was it really a book that ignited my passion for Paris? Was it lying dormant in me this whole time, waiting to be awakened?

Was it this book that caused me to transfer ordinary words of my everyday english life into reminders of the french way of life? The way of life I could be living in little over a year. Can this dream possibly become a reality?

Subconsiously seeing my shampoo bottle's label 'expert' as the word 'expat'? Is this fate, foreshadowing or should it be forgotten? Discarded as little more than an accident, a mistake that means nothing.

But I can't possibly let it slip between my fingers as nothing more than accidental. Its ignited feelings in me i'd forgotten were there.

My longing for croissants, baguettes and berets is awake.