Day Two Hundred and Ninety-Three: I’ve gone French for the morning,
This week has been the rebirth of my addiction to
8tracks.com, which commonly happens every fall season when I crave new music
(seasonal and the like) or convenient, pre-made playlists for
reading/studying/writing/general good times.
I’ve found myself this past week on my parents’ laptop, and so I’ve been
disconnected from my itunes. It was a
mutual break, we both thought it was best for a little while, but I’ve found
myself having moments of complete silence.
They’re not my favourite, I feel foreign in quiet, and so I’ve come back
to 8tracks and found my more ambient self snuggling up with a tea, knitting,
reading/writing, and a good playlist.
This morning I’ve found a lovely “chill”+”morning”+”French”
mix. An unusual taste for me, especially
on a tame Sunday morning, but it’s really hit the spot. It’s just quiet, and indecipherable, and
perfect. I’ve been rereading a novel for
my romantic literature class and it’s been talking about the Navy and relations
with France and all I want right now is to hitch a ride to Toronto, buy a
one-way to the South of France and write.
How perfect would it be so be cuddled in a sweater, converse, aviators,
side bag, headphones, fingerless gloves cosy hat apple cider or a glass of
wine, a porch on hill looking down at fields of a French countryside. This soft track in the background, and an
open notebook. It would seem as though I’d
enter heaven. Any way of winning a
travel-writing scholarship? Is that a
thing? I really should look into this.
X
No comments:
Post a Comment