take me higher
Last night I felt low, and decided there was only one thing I could do to bring me back up: go to the top of the Eiffel tower.
I could stay in like the night before, drowning my thoughts in music and television; staring at the walls; calling home to only end up crying. Or I could remind myself why I came here in the first place.
It's important that I let myself live. Even if it's getting late, and I have to get up early in the morning, my urges must be fed. If I don't keep myself inspired, life is wasted. They say the youth is wasted on the young; I don't want to waste mine.
I took off at a fast pace, walking towards the lit up tower that glows in the city at night. Every so often the lights flicker, and the tower is alive, practically magical.
I filed into the elevator among all the other tourists, and watched the city become surreal as we made our way up into the sky.
Looking at the city from the top floor, entirely visible from this incredible height, my thoughts became more clear. This is where I need to be. I am feeding my need for experience, and experience is always good and bad. The bad moments will make me stronger; more appreciative of the good moments. I am living my life. I have all of this before me.
One of the male tour guides approached me, and offered me an explanation of everything I saw before me. "Voila l'Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, le Centre Georges Pompidou..." As well as a long list of historical facts which swam through me the same way they did in highschool. And when he asked for my phone number and tried to convince me to go out with him afterwards, I knew I was truly in Paris. When you get hit on by a tour guide on the top of the Eiffel tower, you know you're really there. I took his number instead, telling him I didn't give out my own. He said that if he didn't hear from me he'll get the point. So let's hope he gets the point.
I'm still overwhelmed by the men here. Is it because Paris is such a romantic city that they're so persistent in finding a partner? I guess I can't blame them. The other night a lawyer passed me in a black Ferrari-or Jaguar, or something ridiculously expensive-as I walked into a Japanese restaurant. He entered and sat casually across from me, eventually talking me into letting him sit with me, and proceeded to admit he came in because he saw me enter. "Hey, it's a good way to choose a restaurant," I told him, laughing.
On my way home from the Eiffel tower I met a group of young American men. I got good vibes off them, and was ecstatic by the prospect of meeting innocent guys my age. I practically jumped when I found out they would be here a year studying at the American University of Paris. We agreed to go out soon, and now I can venture safely into the night with a male entourage.
I headed home, all smiles, having finally been to the top of the Eiffel tower.
They say heights represent liberation. I understand why.
I could stay in like the night before, drowning my thoughts in music and television; staring at the walls; calling home to only end up crying. Or I could remind myself why I came here in the first place.
It's important that I let myself live. Even if it's getting late, and I have to get up early in the morning, my urges must be fed. If I don't keep myself inspired, life is wasted. They say the youth is wasted on the young; I don't want to waste mine.
I took off at a fast pace, walking towards the lit up tower that glows in the city at night. Every so often the lights flicker, and the tower is alive, practically magical.
I filed into the elevator among all the other tourists, and watched the city become surreal as we made our way up into the sky.
Looking at the city from the top floor, entirely visible from this incredible height, my thoughts became more clear. This is where I need to be. I am feeding my need for experience, and experience is always good and bad. The bad moments will make me stronger; more appreciative of the good moments. I am living my life. I have all of this before me.
One of the male tour guides approached me, and offered me an explanation of everything I saw before me. "Voila l'Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, le Centre Georges Pompidou..." As well as a long list of historical facts which swam through me the same way they did in highschool. And when he asked for my phone number and tried to convince me to go out with him afterwards, I knew I was truly in Paris. When you get hit on by a tour guide on the top of the Eiffel tower, you know you're really there. I took his number instead, telling him I didn't give out my own. He said that if he didn't hear from me he'll get the point. So let's hope he gets the point.
I'm still overwhelmed by the men here. Is it because Paris is such a romantic city that they're so persistent in finding a partner? I guess I can't blame them. The other night a lawyer passed me in a black Ferrari-or Jaguar, or something ridiculously expensive-as I walked into a Japanese restaurant. He entered and sat casually across from me, eventually talking me into letting him sit with me, and proceeded to admit he came in because he saw me enter. "Hey, it's a good way to choose a restaurant," I told him, laughing.
On my way home from the Eiffel tower I met a group of young American men. I got good vibes off them, and was ecstatic by the prospect of meeting innocent guys my age. I practically jumped when I found out they would be here a year studying at the American University of Paris. We agreed to go out soon, and now I can venture safely into the night with a male entourage.
I headed home, all smiles, having finally been to the top of the Eiffel tower.
They say heights represent liberation. I understand why.
posted by Gillian Young at 4:32 AM
1 Comments:
You're a very good writer and I liked the poetry.
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