Sunday ∗ 29 Aug 2010

paris, without

To go where books and movies brought you, and to find it lacking. Not even art and its contingent romance(s) would allow for the overwhelming. Tell the boy who traveled through three countries to see you that you might cry when you see the Mona Lisa. Four hours after, inside and in tears for reasons beyond catholic art at the Sacre Couer, he whispers, “Buti na lang hindi ka sa Mona Lisa umiyak.”

finally up, in a new space for writing. :) the rest is here.

Posted in: ibang bayan, radikalchick.lit

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