Think of an island, full of beautiful things. Like bananas. Or sunsets. An island full of sunsets. Think of this island, your paradise. Now, imagine being on the island. Feel the sand on your feet and the sun on your skin and the salt water in the air you are breathing. And you are blind.
This is the way I will live in this new place, the Frenchland. My blindness is my inability to speak the language, my island the conversations floating through the air to my left and my right. As hard as I try and no matter how well my French accent when I am de speek-ing de English, I will still be the blind man on the island. But my sight will be granted, soon enough. Struggle shall doubtlessly be an occurance but I will grasp the tongues with my fist and twist them until they are my own.
This is alright. I know what I signed up for when I packed my bags and moved my boxes. Come visit some time.
Afterthought/Aside: If you live in town, let's spend some time together!
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