Et puis après trois Robax Platine plus rien nous importe. Ou le curieux mélange orange framboise rhum. La migraine du matin partie. L’air bête des 20 personnes à qui on a souri tenu la porte retenu l’ascenseur dit merci salutbonjourpardonexcusez-moidésolée

Invisible parce qu’ignorée, même pas juste ordinaire. C’est peut-être la mèche de cheveux blancs les 15 ans de plus les 30 livres de plus les rides de plus. Avec tous ces plus comment ne pas être assez? Comment autant d’amour ne pourrait pas soulager, réconforter, guérir, ressusciter? Comment tout ce qui sort de ces yeux, en direct des explosions atomiques enclenchées par le parfum de ta peau ne pourrait pas convaincre que tout est possible, tout est bien, tout est bon dans ce regard je voudrais y vivre et mourir et me faire aimer comme ça sans jamais que ça s’arrête c’est ça la vie éternelle.

Il y a un puits et on y puise sans cesse. Je n’ai pas peur qu’il se vide. J’ai peur qu’il n’y ait pas de fond.

To slowly swim through hazy mornings and bloom in the bright nights where freedom embraces selective memory.

Imbalance only lightened your step  as you covered your wavering with invisible music.

Oh but to get that rush back, when your hair stuck to the brick wall as everything disapeared but the light reflecting on your belt buckle, the light under which you got hooked to the fire lit by his fingers.

As the haze solidifies, as the nights darken, the music you realize was your own heart beating to a symphony of panic.

The path, as always, is there only to support your steps, never to guide them.

As you thread on I want you to remember. You can still dance, you can still catch fire.

I want to remember.

Il y aura, puisque le passé ne conjugue plus mes matins, il y aura.

Non je ne me tais pas.

I just need to have some fun, remember? That’s what you said.

There was a little fuck you in my step, there was a little fuck you in my grin.

And it all made sad sense.

How weight can be worn in so many different ways.

Layers upon layers, the ground covered and still I walk, because that’s all I am built to do.

Fuck baby steps. I’m walking in strides.

I’m walking, I’m walking, I’m back.

I can’t

Break

Unless mine is broken as well

Unless mine is

Not involved

Nothing to recover from

But a sweet a warm a loving

Moment embrace more never to be

The rush of the stumble

Has no equal

But like a jigsaw puzzle, her pieces were meant to only fit one way.

“You can make me, invent me, create me. I’ll belong to you and only you. You’ll hold the secret. My cracks, my flaws only reminders that I was born from your hands.”

Damaged goods, that’s how I saw it. Unfortunately, I had already broken her. Her cracks and flaws only reminders of what she was made of.

Worth breaking.

and feel the breeze meet my (insert here, please, yes, insert)

meet all that stands still

and all that can’t let go

freshen up for the company

say everything that matters

everything that rings right and true (can you say alleluia)

push the lines push the borders

dust up dust gone

slit the truth’s throat open and swim swim swim

be here when it matters

be there (click / heels – repeat) when no one cares anymore

for this is the truth

I’d rather die caring

Trois jours moins quelques heures, la dernière marche seul, la dernière ride seule.

Et oui la valse des emails des downloads des nudges des soupirs sourirs.

Et oui maman est de retour, les draps propres, la vaisselle faite, les lunches.

I’ve set my permissions to 777.

Waiting for your upload.

I’ll install by default.

And when you loose control, you’ll reap the harvest you have sown.
And as the fear grows, the bad blood slows and turns to stone.
And it’s too late to lose the weight you used to need to throw around.
So have a good drown, as you go down, all alone,
Dragged down by the stone.
-Waters, Gilmour

…

Not necessarily drowned. Not yet. Touched, the dream bursts. An oily bubble lazily dragging its ass around. All but waiting for a pointing finger.

As skin gets cooler, as hearts grow fonder, as tears flow harder. I touched too.

Blow. Another big, round, sun filled, colorized dream.

Blow. Two.

Me away.

Nothing paper can’t hold. Nothing music can’t tell. Nothing my heart can’t take.

But the trail of a wet burst.

So blow for both of us.

…

Well, anybody can be just like me, obviously
But then, now again, not too many can be like you, fortunately.
-Dylan

Some wants I don’t always realize are already haves.

Where x is wants and y is haves

Identify the value of each variable.

But easily discarded if one was so determined.
if one was so inclined

And yet beyond the ugliness lies the truth about us all.
fire is the outcome of hypocrisy