I was twenty-eight years old and working as an engineer in Guatemala and I knew that if I wanted to be a writer I needed to go to Paris. And so I quit my job, bought a one-way ticket, and flew to Paris in the early winter of 1999, with no other plan than to become a writer. I knew that my entire life up to that point had been lived by someone who no longer existed, or who no longer wanted to exist. I was all alone. I was miserable, and helpless, and completely lost.
Source : A Few Seconds in Paris
