I cross the bridge and walk over the highway on my way to class. I walk over the highway on Saturdays and Sundays, too.
It gets dark quick. I've been looking up those bands you keep recommending. They're pretty good.
Air is my favorite. Their new album, 'Le Voyage Dans La Lune', is about flying to the moon. It's based on a silent movie that was made in 1902, before there were atomic bombs and UFOs and The Simpsons.
I'm happy that even people without atomic bombs and UFOs and The Simpsons thought about flying to the moon, which is La Lune if you're French. Once, I watched the silent movie, the one from 1902, in a class. Darkness pulsed around the edges of the picture, as if the camera, which when you watch a movie is your eyeball, was very tired.
When the camera is very tired, it is called vignette.
When the camera is sleeping, it is called blackout.
When the camera is dreaming, it is called fade.
My eyeballs fade, and the highway isn't the highway at all, but another one, a bigger one that goes further than London, and I read somewhere that France is smaller than Texas, and the United Kingdom is smaller than France, and the highway in my head ends somewhere in the Pacific Ocean whose edge you are standing on because it is too cold to surf and anyway you don't know how.
I don't know how either, but I'll learn. I'm learning lots of things, like how to make coffee so I don't have to buy it every day and how not to wear ballet flats in the rain and how to draw people without them knowing and someday I'll know so much that I'll never have to tell anyone where I'm from.