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Les baisers, il faut les rêver, les attendre...

Look here - what if I love you?


But ambition is like a poison and a gift tangled together and it makes you leave and leave and leave again, leave places, leave people, leave your whole life. Ambition and something else that I don't know how to name but it's what I share my house with, the house of my body, ambition and something that is ruthless and cruel and says only, ever, Is that a good story, and if the answer is no it says Move on. The best we can hope for is to be good enough to justify how brutal we are.

[...] I left all the things I thought I could be to be the one thing I wanted. And when I got here I kept leaving, keep leaving, and what would I write about, anyway, if I ever knew what it was like to be one person, to love one person, to stand in a single place and say At last here I am, I am home.