Just thoughts floating round my head, creating an alternate world, an unreachable idealistic place that doesn't really exist and wouldn't ever happen and if it did, I want to be somewhere/ someone else anyway...I love France and the French culture and their clothes-style and their lifestyle and the
language and their accents and the cheeses and wines and fancy breads . I want to live in a small coastal town in France, in a pretty, narrow, cobbled street. With the aroma of fresh baked croissants and strong black coffee, in the early morning air. I want a French bicycle with a basket, or just an old, large wheeled, slightly rusty, black bicycle and I want to ride to the market, in my floral dress and fill my basket with fresh produce- vegetables, fruits, fine cheese, quality wine, fresh flowers.I love France. Many holidays in France as a child. With family, with school. Husband hates France and the French; he's never been there.
Too much going on to write anything.
I could talk for hours but I'm choosing to stay silent.
I'm very worried BUT calmly accepting the anxiety, fed by a very REAL source.
Just some health fuck-ups. Maybe they're not as bad as I imagine or maybe they're worse.
I can't write, currently, as I don't know how to feel, so I've put my feelings on hold and consequently can't write. But I AM happy. IAM HAPPY and I'm SMILING.
It's not the ED. It's about something bigger than that
Bien Vivre
L'amour beaucoup,
De rire souvent!
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