24. Acqua alta.

Paris in May, it’s supposed to be spring, it’s supposed to be sunny, it’s supposed to be nice. In June as well, even better. But not this time… As for the pharaoh, the plagues of Paris continues…

First, there was rain, small rain, big rain, then thunders and storms, and then rain, big rain, never ending rain… but none of them Parisian rain.

The french saying normally states “En mai, fait ce qu’il te plait” (“In May, do what you like”) meaning rejoice, winter is over, now’s spring, carefree and light. But not this time. “When it rains it pours” doesn’t exist in french. Not yet.

I don’t sleep much lately. Been working and overthinking a lot -about the future. Over-analysing the past.

Let’s wash it all. Let’s wash all the blood and the tears, let’s let drown the tensions and anger, let’s let sink the remorses and the bodies.

I want to dive in, I want to dive in deep and to swim.