extract

Charles Baudelaire: "Romanticism is precisely situated neither in choice of subject nor exact truth, but in a way of feeling."

en cette nuit je debute ce qui va s’averer un automne of searching in between all the words i have left behind me. and o trust me it’ll keep on going t’ll christmas rings me back to reality. i don’t plan on a bumpy road, i see it smooth and chaotic, the way i need it for now. writing and somedays i have to remind myself that i need money therefore i should work, but this summer has been the first ever to let me free at the end with a certain light disability to get back into my old life in the city. i rode my bike downtown today and my nervous system feels pretty fragile. like my heart, like my eyes, only they still see me as a strong standing warrior. but you know for now i am forcing to winter sleep all of me that use to run and fight and be aggressive in order to get wherever my dreams were standing. but i am a writer for now, a lover incarceree au prises avec les muses de son passe. ma sentence va tomber , i will be the first one to see it falling in front of my eyes, i am not a criminal for judges to lay their sentences, only my prison is the reality i am sentenced to see everyday, and how truly you tell me a serial lover should be able to breathe slowly. it’s the lack of intensity , the release in daylight of what my dreams becomes with twilight. it’s all you can’t see in my eyes because i cried inside and outside the coldness is heavy on me so they freezes. emotions they freezes when i look in the streets and i smiled at you hoping for a feeling. but i welcome you to a land where the crazy lovers are doomed to act in a play with absence of duality .i predict a story of tragedy.

une histoire si belle, tragique.


i am feeling good inside the tree house i am building with an old friend with whom i am always amaze we live in true black comfort together now. her name; Althea.
i’m finally celebrating the tool i was awaiting for ever, the keyboard i can hit all night long, fast and focus. but tonight there is no rush, i let it come to me. soon i am gonna start to dig my past and keep what i always kept anyway... the loves i keep alive.
people and i have some kind of a different way to perceive the dramatics of their endings, for me there will be no ending, only one way to go, and this is where no one knows. i shall let go one day of my life, but i’ll never let go of my loves. it’s a way to be true to my heart, loyal but mostly it’s my way to make it endless. i thought and felt so much in me provoquer by the memory lanes that in the end i am way too fucking amaze by how it created me, affected and written on my body, to forget is to defeat so easy, come on i am willing to put in my own life as the price to pay , for love can be eternity.
it’s in the way i try to create harmony with pain, pleasure,, desires and lost, that i feel the love i hold in growing still insanely even with the worst bullet there could have been pulled at me, the feeling they call ‘empty’ .

science is the kind of reality to tell you empty is o so full of everything, my kind of empty is what will drive me beyond crazy, it’s me loosing control of my body, of my mind and my heart. when i leave my future unknown is nothing compare to when i look in my mind and see the color is white, nothing pure but empty of feelings, empty of words or motions. empty you have left it right there for me to see.

for now these are all the words i'll let go free. i told you i have sentenced myself . i let go of your prison. but i will draw you for later the wires are sharp and tight arround my heart in circles to stay.