jetaimevarese

What a strange dream I had last night! If it is a film, they would call it 'romantic horror'. The story goes like this... there is a lady in Mazargues, who wields a cleaver in her hand. When she appears none can move, for fear paralyses. Up and down she looks at us, then suddenly she says, 'You!' -- off goes the head of a luckless lad!

One by one, we lose our friends. Bigger and bigger, our fear grows. As I walked down the street one day, the lady did appear! Up and down she looked at us, before she stopped in front of me. This is the end I thought, God forgive me for all my sins!

Yet she took me by the hand and through the night we walked. We stood by the sea as the sun awoke. Then she held my face and said, il y a longtemps que je t'aime.

***

I miss going to the calanques, where we would dive into the sea. My lungs would try to keep itself from bursting as the bubbles around me rapidly dissolve. Then I would open my eyes to a softer world, where everything is illuminated in a curious shade of blue.

Time would pass away as I float in my watery limbo. Always, I believed that I shall remain there until the sea dries up. What will the world be like, then? Will the people I love be there, still?

Of course they will always be, in this ailing heart of mine. The thought of them would bring me up to the surface, to the Mediterranean sun on my back, to the joy of life and the feeling that I might be real after all.

We'll talk of sunshine and of song,
And summer days, when we were young
Sweet childish days, that were as long
As twenty days are now

I wanted to grow up to be the best that I could be, but it appears that time has only made me decay. Each morning I wake up and feel worse than yesterday... on the bright side, that means I am better than who I will be! *smiles through gritted teeth*

Meanwhile, are you excited for Halloween? I am hosting a party and look at what happened when I invited my neighbours:

'Halloween? No, that is so Américain.'

'But there will be jack-o-lanterns!'
'No.'

'Jars of candy!'
'No.'

'Naughty costumes!'
'Hmm...'

'Free flow wine!'
'See you there!'

Mais oui.

I have stopped having nightmares. That does not mean I have stopped dreaming of drowning or losing my teeth. Rather, I have developed a nonchalant attitude towards them. 'Let it be' sang the Beatles. To admit defeat to fate, is it a good thing?

The word 'defeat' usually carries a negative connotation, but not always so. Can a human being fight against a tsunami? Old age? Death? Some battles are not meant to be. The only casualty is the one who attempts to fight. Oh no, did I just prove myself to be a 'cheese-eating surrender monkey'? : P

Perhaps I am growing old, by giving in to reality in exchange for a dull comfort that masquerades as happiness. I remember an idealistic time, when I used to sing 'you can have it all but how much do you want it?' and meant every word of it.

To be tired of seeing life in pink, is that what growing up means?

Is it a sin? Is it a crime?
Loving you dear like I do
If it's a crime then I'm guilty
Guilty of loving you

Maybe I'm wrong dreaming of you
Dreaming the lonely night through
If it's a crime then I'm guilty
Guilty of dreaming of you

What can I do? What can I say
After I've taken the blame?
You say you're through, you'll go your way
But I'll always feel just the same

Maybe I'm right, maybe I'm wrong
Loving you dear like I do
If it's a crime, then I'm guilty
Guilty of loving you

When I was young, Maman would play all the pop standards before I sleep. I had an impression that life back then was simple, but a song is a song. It is as true as it is not. Perhaps between then and now, nothing has really changed. All that has gone are hope and optimism both.

Je veux toujours être un papillon parce qu'ils vivent pendant trois jours d’été (et pas cinquante années d’une vie ordinaire).

Bonne année, mes amis : )

D: 'You are a ghost.'
Me: 'Of who I was?'
D: 'No, and yes. I mean, you don't age. You must have died and not realised it.'

A spliff or two always reveal the truth. So... how long have I been roaming the earth? And why can't I fly?

Quand j'étais un enfant, j'allais souvent au jardin du Luxembourg avec mama. Une fois, sur un jour d'automne, je demandais, 'L'été est parti pour toujours?'

'Non. L'été dort et reviendra.'

Et toi aussi?

La science dit que les morts ne se reveillent jamais. Papa ne sait pas la raison. Il pense que la vie est éphémère, que la mort est où on appartient.

Moi, je juste crois que un jour, je reverrai tes yeux.

Borned on Bastille Day in Paris, how cliché. I wonder why mama bothered giving birth to me, when she could have a picnic in the park. I wonder why mama bothered, at all.

I am 18, but 18 is not me. It is just a number. At times I feel like 8, other times 80. Of course, that is for literary effect. One who has never been 80 can never feel like 80.

Papa threw a party for me. At first I believed only three people will be here: Papa, my teddy and I. Everyone came in the end, including Vince, who brought a crate of vodka (not joking).

Basically vodka -> drunk kids -> me going back to my room without anyone realising -> blogging about it before I sleep -> this is a sure sign I am growing old.

Hello world!

It has been a long time eh? Now summertime is in bloom, is that a cue for me to stand up beside the fireplace? Yeah, as if it is not hot enough!

Well I have been really happy. That may seem like a redundant thing to say, but reality and appearance are two completely different things. I used to smile a lot, but inside I was thinking all sorts of emo nonsense.

I attribute my newfound happiness to my Charmander tattoo, ha! Until I stepped into the tattoo studio, I was caught between Charmander and Poliwag. Then, as any good trainer would say, I uttered 'Charmander, I choose you!'

The entire shop became very quiet.

The silence was so thick you can make sauce with it. My tattoo artist did not say anything, for fear of bursting out with 'I did not come here to ink Pokemons on losers!' Yeah, wait till you hear about my excitement for Eclipse.

Papa was cool about it, even though his exact words were,
  'Ah, easier to identify your dead body.'

-__-

Other than that it has been really busy at the restaurant, France lost, and I recruited a saxophone player a few weeks ago. We no longer meet because he always 'forgot' his instrument, then proceed to spend the entire day raiding our wine cellar. So my dream jazz band is back at the count of one member...

'Tu sais... quand on est tellement triste on aime les couchers de soleil...'

'Le jour des quarante-trois fois tu étais donc tellement triste?'

Mais le petit prince ne répondit pas.