in a mysterious way it feels like the language is hidden inside of me. when watching Pari Je Taime my brain collected all small words I do not know the meaning or the spelling of, put them in hidden drawers in the dark places of my head and kept bubbling them out of my mouth, spilling them all around the floor hours after the film had ended.
this feeling comes and goes. on the subway when hearing someone speaking French I always get mad at myself. having spent... seven, seven! years trying to learn Spanish with not such a success as I wished it had been, I have started to question why I began taking the class. no reply have yet been heard. ever.
furthermore I have not felt the same eager to learn Spanish as I have felt with French for the last three years or so. it may all depend on the fact that I do not speak French and have not this far tried to learn it either and therefore can long for the process of learning it and the success of speaking it as I have not wandered the hard way to get there, through all the verbforms of present and past and future and all the words of the entire human vocabulary, or at least the vocabulary that is needed to be able to speak and make others understand at least a bit of what I am trying to say. my point is. it is always easier to long for what one do not know and is believing to be better and more easy.
anyhow. I think I will let French be my summer project. I have already looked up some "French classes" to buy on mp3. I mean, how hard can it be. listening to a phrase and repeating it. just like in Love Actually. he learns Portuguese and she learns English. how cute isn't that? it is a beginning after all.
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