Intraduisible

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Slowly I am starting to realise that all of this French bread is due to vocabulary technicalities. I should not have called this whole thing a holiday to begin with. This is a retreat, plain and simple. A walkaway from everything weighing me down, including this one. Piling it on top of the other one means diddly squat. This is just reaping from what I have sown.

So sure, it has not exactly been smooth sailing, and perhaps it will get worse before it gets better, but it is what it is. I am in no mood for any leisurely or touristic activities any longer. The itinerary has changed from resting it all on one thing to resting it all on whatever feeds me the least amount of crap. I have to change the chemical wiring on my head to stop fixating on the ropa vieja of feels that keep triggering whenever I allow it to. I have to learn to see the wood for the trees.

This whole thing sucks.

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