Writhe and Shine

From Writhe’s journal:

Chartres. The cathedral was very dark. I took as many pictures as I could anyway. There was a certain stairway inside that gave me an overwhelming feeling of awe. I don’t know what it was. All these places are so old and have seen so much, makes me feel kind of insignificant and small. Walked around town and it was rather boring. Waiting for my bus back to Paris. Going directly to the catacombs when I get back.

I descended deep into the underground on a steep spiral staircase and walked down a tunnel maybe a quarter mile until I came upon the bones. All of the signs were in French. Most of the skulls were broken with no lower jaws and all of the bones are loose. There is no mortar holding them together. The front row of the wall of human bones is made up of the ends of femurs and it is very straight and neat with skulls at certain layers. Quite damp and dark. Expect to get dripped on. The crunchy gravel walkways make you think that you’re trodding upon finger bones, toe bones, and teeth. Ascended a steep spiral staircase on the other end of the catacomb and immediately had my bag checked to see if I had taken any bones. I suppose that happens a lot as they look easy to move. Stepped out into the sunlight and had no idea where I was. Went into a grocery store and forgot to weigh the bananas before I checked out and caused a problem at the cash register. Was talked down to in French, had eyes rolled at me. Found a Metro station and went back to the apartment to take a nap for a few hours. Got up, dressed, and went to a show.

Met a few goths outside the venue. “La Locomotive” has a large top floor for the normals who can’t seem to dance very well and a main floor for the goths. That was a massive dance floor. Lots of lights, large stage. Balcony and stage for better viewing. Before the bands played, people danced. They had more room than in the other club and danced a little better. The first band was described to me as a French Marilyn Manson – not really. They had a well-built naked man in a bondage hood as a microphone stand. The mic was attached to his headgear. The next band totally sucked. I said “au revoir” to the people I had met and went to find a cash station. Somehow I ended up in the Porn District! I hailed a cab because the metro was not running at that hour. Cost me quite a bit. Stumbled around in the pitch black apartment and went to sleep. Woke up by E, said good bye. Slept another hour and packed everything. Went to Gare Austerlitz guessing they had a train to Limoges (there are about 5 rail stations). Train to Limoges was in 10 minutes so I hopped on and said good bye to Paris.