wistful desire

"le prix d'amour, c'est seulement amour,
il faut aimer si l'on veut etre aime."
the price of love is simply love, one must love to be loved-
i want to lie at your feet and die in your arms.
- Voltaire

"l'orgueil est le consolateur des faibles."
pride is the consolation of the weak.
- Vauvenargues

i want to party all night at the highest point of Paris, admiring the grandeur of the Basilique du Sacre-Coeur in a drunken stupor and ride the Karusell because that's how he'll make me feel.

i want to wake up in the morning, climb out of his arms to the breath-taking view of the Parisian skyline from the butte Montmartre, only to look back and think "mm, maybe another five minutes".

i want to shop on Boulevard Haussmann and Avenue Montaigne, explore Saint-Ouen's flea market and the west end neighbourhood of Champs-Elysees, where i'll lose time as i stroll down the belles promenades towards the Arc de Triomphe and the Louvre.

then i'll experience gateau and parfait by the Seine that will seduce every taste bud a thousand times over, rivaled only by the debonair sitting across from me.

i want to see where saint Denis was born and be able to immerse myself in the now-contemporary/rural neightbourhood where Monet, Picasso and Van Gogh were inspired, producing timeless pieces.

i want to see where the Cossacks held ground, critical in their invasion of France, taking the reigns of Paris and be overwhelmed by emotion so complex that i'd vaguely understand it.

i want to take in the scenery of the Parisian outskirts, the French countryside and Genevan meadows on the five hour drive to grandmama's in Saint Julien and have home-made gratin dauphinois for dinner.

i want to wake up and find myself completely lost, engulfed in someone else's world, far away from my own - no more nine-to-five job, unseen by familiar eyes. a place where my own life up to that moment doesn't exist, where i'm simply a face with five letter word attached. maybe then i'll finally stop complaining about how perfect it is and actually appreciate it- but if it's so perfect, why do i want so much more.. or should i say less? what if i don't appreciate it? what if i become so infatuated that i want to stay as someone else's mon plus cher? i wonder how selfish i really am...

i want too much..
bisous, jae x