Day 2

To be frank, I was eager to write again here but I find myself with nothing to say.
Paris smells vaguely like death and the lack of daylight, the rain and the endless pavement add to the feeling of doom.
In the middle of it all, I try to remember life, especially giving life, or to be more accurate, giving birth.
I remember having this insight during labour – I was getting acquainted to that implacable rhythm of growing pain/perfect bliss/pain/bliss and thought that even the slightest difference in it would have been fatal to mankind. It was exactly what I was able to bear and most certainly what all women were able to bear since the beginning, but if that perfect bliss would have been less perfect between contractions I know for sure all women would have totally refused to go through it again, at any cost. We wouldn’t have been billions thriving on the planet and far too many writing blogs and hoping to make some sense.
For the reason explained above, labour was for me another outstanding proof of the clockwork universe we live in, which comes with a reassuring feeling. Although most of it is beyond our understanding, the world will turn the way it is supposed to, with breathtaking elegance.