Lost...

...Wandering the streets..

Today I decided to go to a music festival in Cardiff.
It rained. hard. Rest assured: there was torrential rain all day.
My journey started at the train station.
I wasn't sure where to go or what to look out for. I just had a quick look at Google Map this morning before leaving. I wished I had looked harder. The thing I found out is that in this area there's not what I call a display of street names on walls ! I still can't believe that they put the house numbers on display but no street names plates on walls. How do foreigners know in which street they are. How do they find their way around town? No point looking at a map then. Not that there was any either. So instead of asking for directions, I first decided to follow a few guys on a busy road on the right... Well quite unwise decision. I ended up at a cross road.
I stopped a random spotty guy.
"Where is Mount Stuart ?" I said
"You mean The docks?" he said
"Mmm, yes, probably, it might be ??" I replied, having no idea what he meant.
"It's that way", pointing in the entirely wrong direction.
Left right right...
"Ah ok". There I went.

I ended up fifteen minutes later in a dirty road with no exit...

I so wished the spotty guy got even more acne scarring on his face.

I wish the bearded guy
looked like him

This time, a bearded guy was coming towards me. I asked him "Where is Mount Stuart". He replied, and oh well, he just couldn't stop talking for 5 minutes, and he was talking so fast and furious that the idea of taking the directions in shorthand crossed my mind... But I just was so busy at nodding and pretending I got it. I forgot half the directions as soon as he told me.

As instructed, I went the other way. 
In the rain. 
Wishing the bearded guy were never born
Left left right.

Sigh....
Double sigh....

...not him....

I wished the ugly bearded got lost in a forest somewhere in the middle of nowhere.

And as for this last guy I asked where Mount Stuart was, he replied to me like a scouse teenager. "Yu must tuk da bass, me darlin'..." That strangulated voice... Painful ! I didn't have a clue what he was talking about. 
I  thought he was eating and talking to me at the same time.  As I watched him swallowing his words, I wished I could put subtitles on, like on TV. He kept ending his phrase with "dya no warra mean". ??
Oh well.

Time to give this Music festival a miss.
After all, I'd rather go another day.
With an umbrella. 
And when it's sunny.
And I'll use the bus.
For now, back to square one.
Still in the rain.
And no umbrella, ella, ella, ella.

That's how my hair looked
at the end of this journey

MORALE :
 Never ever leave again
your umbrella(s)
at home

Partager

Le temps peut parfois sembler très long quand on est seule. Le Mari vit quasiment en australie et moi je vis seule ici. J'ai l'impression de vivre en célibataire mais sans les "avantages", facon de parler évidemment, je ne veux pas de ce genre d'avantage. Ou bien dans la meme idée, de vivre mariée mais sans l'etre... 

Quand on est seule, on ne sait pas à qui parler, à qui se confier, avec qui rigoler. On apprend a etre encore plus seule, on devient un caméléon. Un caméléon solitaire.

J'aimerais tellement dire a tout le monde que cette solitude me tue.

Comment dire que le temps d’une soirée, que je donnerais tout pour retrouver le confort de mon petit appartement parisien, mon travail au ministere, la joie d’une virée entre amis à Paris, le plaisir des repas entre amis, meme la lumière grise parisienne, les voix ringardes en VF des séries télé et les Pépitos trempés dans du café au lait. 

Ca me manque d'avoir un lien fort avec quelqu'un ici.

J'ai besoin de partager.

Mes amis me manquent tellement.

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Time can sometimes seem very long when you're alone. Mari lives almost in Australia and I live here alone. It's a bit like living as a single but without being single, way of speaking of course. Or similarly, like being married but living on my own ... 
When you are alone, you do not know who to talk to, to confide in, laugh with. You learn to be even more alone, we become a chameleon. A lonely chameleon. 
I would love to say to everyone that this loneliness is killing me. 
How to say that just for an evening, I would give anything to return to the comfort of my little Parisian apartment, my job at the Ministry, the joy of an escape in Paris, the pleasure to have a meal with friends, even the Parisian grayness, or the nerdy dubbed voices series and Pepitos soaked in coffee with milk. 


I miss having a strong connection with someone here.
Who doesn't need a friend ? I need friends. I need to share.
I miss my friends so much.

A ma mere.

6 mai 2014.

Aujourd'hui, cela fait 1 an qu'elle est partie. Un an déja.

Il y a tellement de choses que je pourrais dire mais j'ai le coeur bien trop lourd.

Un an apres, ne plus avoir ma maman n'est pas ma premiere pensée du matin, ni la deuxieme ou troisieme, non, ca revient juste par moment, comme ca, sans prevenir, dans une journée au hasard, sans raison apparente, parfois juste en observant une famille, parfois quand quelqu'un parle de sa mere ou parfois  en cherchant une date dans un calendrier, au mois de mai.

Je regrette profondément de ne pas t'avoir revue pour te dire au revoir.

Je regrette tellement de m'etre éloignée toutes ces années.

Je n'ai pas été une bonne fille et je m'en excuse du fond du coeur.

Je ne pourrais jamais rattraper tous ces moments perdus avec toi mais tu restes pour toujours et a jamais dans mon coeur.

A tous ceux qui ont encore votre mere, estimez-vous vraiment chanceux, soyez heureux et appréciez et profitez de chaque moment partagés avec eux.

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6th may 2014

Today, it's been a year she's gone. Already a year.
There is plenty I could write about but my heart is too heavy.

A year after, not having a mother anymore isn't my first thought of the morning, nor the second or third, though it comes back in my head, unexpectedly, during a random day, without any apparent reason, whether it be while observing a family, or someone talking about their mother or while searching a date in May in a calendar.

I deeply regret not having seen you to say the last good bye, I deeply regret to have been estranged from you, I don't think I have been a good daughter and I sincerely apologize. I regret that at the time I couldn't let go of all the suffering that caused my heart to harden.

I know I'll never catch back all those lost moment with you but you'll be forever in my heart.

Tomorrow will be just another day, but today, it’s not.

To all of you who still have their mother, feel fortunate, be happy and value the time you share with them.

Do not stand at my grave and weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep;

I am not there. I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush,

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there, I did not die.

Mary Frye, American poet (1904 - 2004)