what i'll remember most...

remember that night, standing under the windmill of the moulin rouge, so tired from our long day of walking all over the city...it was dark and and the neon lights were bright and reflecting everywhere and for some reason we could not stop taking pictures of each other in front of the moulin. i think we were trying to get just one good one of the both of us. one where we did not look like we had been beaten to death by the streets of paris, but to no avail. in every one of those pictures we both look near death --- ah but it was a romantic way to die…