#39 of 1,000,000

20201004 Last night I slept in my bed. Everything was exactly the same. Nothing had moved. Nothing had changed. Time here froze years ago. I put Proust on the shelf and started a little book by Kafka. In one sentence he described his father as Kafkaesque. I didn't quite understand. Today, just before filming, I almost burst into tears. In the end, I didn't cry. AX is very happy that I'm back: I was pleasantly surprised. Yesterday he picked me up at the airport, and we chatted the whole trip. I think he hadn't talked about university with anyone since I left. I have the distinct feeling that he's as lonely as I am, and it scares me. It can't be easy for him either. Like me, he speaks little and opens up with difficulty.