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40 - Appelez-moi Edison.

Light coma in the morning, the excess alcohol the night before still rumbling in my stomach. I was still in the nebulae, I did not want to leave also for fear of remembering the evening (or not remember). The sound of sheets which has ruffled me yet extracted. I try to remember is good, I located. I return to my coma when a hand came on my neck, a frail and gentle hand, sometimes hesitant. Instantly I was surprised, it was a long time since I had not felt that sensation. And I got very quickly pleased. Really. Just a small gesture, a gesture con, basic, and everything calms down.
I would have liked it to last forever, just because I was good, everything was so clear, that I thought of nothing, that he, too, I suppose. Because to give a little love without consequence, briefly, is the only thing you may have, we can grant itself, the rest being reserved for "other". I can not have it. I have to settle on his part as the part of anyone else. That's really the story of my life that, taking the minimum, even if it is bad because I know I will never again. LORD leitmotif.

Mood: ill.
RB: Adam Green - Bleeding heart.μ
Pic: Patrick Wolf .

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39 - She's my woman of gold.

It all started nearly three years ago now. Taking a sudden passion for photography, I started to wander on a hosting site photos, actress and spectator. I saw beautiful pictures, less beautiful, too. But one particularly struck me. It is a cliché that I had always promised to do every day or almost under my shower. I already had a very clear idea of framing I wanted, color, contrast, in short, I imagined the picture fully. And I was rather amazed to see the already existing retail nearby. At first, I thought that finally, the picture was rather mundane, it did nothing notable, and a little digging, I realized that the resemblance with each image I Current head was too disturbing for me to remain impassive. So I clicked on "How". And that's where it all began. Photo + Placebo + + glamrock loves failures = magic potion.

It is therefore almost three years, as I said. Almost three years since we discovered little by little, and again today. Three years since we share everything, serious things, stupid things, bottles of rum / coke. It's amazing how time flies.
I remember the first time I saw her. Hanging around before it Fnac Bastille, and it was waiting for us, we, eternal ball always late. Her hair followed the court of the wind, his clothes much too loose him look relaxed as she agonized inside. One to two hours later, the situation had décoincée, laughing without fear, we had one cast with each other. I felt like I know her since then that it was still far from being the case. At least for now.
I remember also, one month later, our first train trip alone. It took place in the compartment even timidly, afraid like the other one white, and then finally we are surprised to chain the two-hour trip to Metz, telling bullshit, criticizing those shadows so virtual ridiculous, and addressing this and other topics is more delicate.
I remember our first evening, our first embrace, our first confidences, our first concerts common, our first steps are, when we still had no idea that these shy exchanges could have such dire consequences. I who so admired, who do not feel large enough to have sufficient importance in his eyes ... I guess she thinks it is no longer the case " Finally I'm a poor bitch insignificant", but God knows she's wrong. Oh yes it is wrong.

That by which all began.

Mood: Nostalgic .
RB: Summer's Gone - Placebo
Pic: Jude .

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38 - It's over just as I came near.

That's it, I'm back in the shit. A nail in hunting another as they say. It was months since I was trying to get rid of the nail and then bam, without warning, here's the nail that other lands and settled ("like a missile", some will understand).

I expect so many weeks of anguish and uncertainty. I might take fire very often, in every sense of the word, to believe, to give up, then think again and get back timidly, and then did not stop, and finally if you can! and finally non-eutectic. I know for a fact I'm still too much hassle for nothing, but it will occupy me a little mind. Maybe it will drive the real concerns, at least on the surface.
I'm happy. I'm happy because it has no air con, it is very beautiful and it is, it seems funny. But I think what struck me the most "attractive" is when you said "He loves the passionate relationship, limit destructive." There, I said BINGO, mamma mia, I will. Gotta be a little on the edges to SM that level. Finally it is no longer a secret. SM yes, but not too much, because in the background I'd like to really make this work, we live happily and we have many children, all that (Well, maybe not that extreme but it still not far).
Well, I'll revert silly. All because of her large eyes sparkling, his manner of lame (but sucks all out there), his bright smile, her arias naive child, her shy glances. Rah this is really nothing ... It con ... And say that we will not know.

FACT OR FICTION?

Mood: bah silly, but somewhat in doubt (yes already).
RB: Magic Position - Patrick Wolf.
Pic: Mia "Jenny" Kirschner

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37 - You find God, you find God. Exposition nauséeuse d'ego.

I feel like writing. I want to write I want to write I feel like writing but I do not know what to write. Surely the fever that rushes to my head. Bon bin to get the urge, I'll tell the shit for a change. After all, I've never realized that, as long as people were all selfish. Then my turn to be, and you can once more by my overwhelming ego. This guh-blocking will also be the single place where I allow myself the right to be unbearable in real life, I intend to step aside. Do not be surprised not to hear me and just notice me.

It's Christmas, so soon the new year, so my birthday soon, so soon the concert Late of the Pier. I decided to drink less, because I realized, in frightening circumstances, that I was an alcoholic. Well, not any alcoholic, an alcoholic socialite. Oh yeah dude, it's a little thing that changes everything. Or not.
So, as I will drink less, I'm looking to get drunk in a new way. Result, I read a lot more, and I'm not against smoking two or three psychotropic stuff (like Dora).
Right now I only listen to Patrick Wolf and Grammatics. Yeah. Yet Grammatics y ' another year I find it pretty bad, but hey, we must believe that over time we made it. Pis should not lie, it makes me really happy to hear the voice of Owen. Besides, I believe (or not) that through my many posts on their myspace like "I want you to come in France Until The End of the Year" that they decided to come to a gig in February. Ok it's not Until The End of the Year but it was not far. Good
otherwise immensely funny thing: I'm gonna make a gig myself. But my group was a joke at first, a hobby. And then by chance, then another, and not bad luck, bim, it offers me a Blowin Part One. So duh, although not to the point, but then not at all, bah was accepted. We are not in the shit now hold. But hey it's cool like that, we invested to death for the least ridiculous as possible, it should go (haha).
Voila. You saw how beautiful life is now.

I wonder how come (out) lives to spend Christmas away from his family in a 9m ² with a stranger. One. And receive only one gift per year. One. And how come (out) lives to spend his day in front of a TV that leases the eyes of the head because it is the only occupation. Alone. And how (to) live away from those we were supposed to protect. And how (to) live with this label, with this shadow blackened never disappear. I miss you, asshole.

Mood: false.
RB: Grammatics: Shadow Committee.
Pic: Patrick Wolf .

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36 - Smiling, and laughing, and asking for more.

More, more, more. Ever. Eternal dissatisfaction puisqu'éternelle illusion. I think I spend my life I make films, movies all more unattainable than each other. I think I always say that's it, it's my turn, I no longer to wait for that chance to be official, and then not. While browsing, I do realize that this was just the wind, as usual. Ridiculed.
That's what I thought. Already I could not live before, now it's worse. Everything is disrupted, the bases and few certainties I had. I live in total chaos, in a thick fog through which I can not see 2 meters. I walk in the dark and I suffer in silence, but all that you do not see it. I only wish to forget, to forget in vain. Nothing works, even more alcohol. I can not even trust me. I say, bullshit, trivial things, but I dare not spit poisonous thoughts. The fear of boring, surely.

I do not know what to do.
But those problems are so pathetic, really.

Mood: wants to take salvia.
RB: No Joanna - Cajun Dance Party.

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35 - And now, you're mine for ever.

Since I Met You, this house has started "to decay
and Every Wall That Once Was Turned clean has a shade of gray
So much to rescue, So Much you just can not understand
Now the Streets are dark and empty, and The Problems In Our Hands

I cannot leave you, see back home my house is falling down.
I cannot leave you, see back home my house is falling down

Since I Met You, my basement has started "to bleed
The floors are all collapsing, Still I'm begging to be free

There has nothing to do, it does not exit. It's still there, across the throat, deep belly, near the eyes, that strength and that strength yet, but it does not come out. It is like blocked. It's much too far, we can not forget. I tell myself that if things do not go out I will have my whole life in the background, and that every morning when I woke up I only aim to get rid of it but not work. Never. I do not understand, I'm talking about often since this happened, though I cry sometimes, I'm hurt me, nothing happens, there is perpetual. So I drink, I tell myself that the fumes of alcohol may help me to live with, except to briefly mention: nay.
When I think about it, I try to deny, to change my mind immediately, I lie to myself MYSELF persuaded that all this is not true, this is just fucking nightmare, they will say "Surprise Surprise!" waving hidden cameras to prove to myself that it was a fake. But it never happens either. I can also imagine the legends, I tell myself that in fact they invented everything, they were just tired of living here among us, and they decided like that, I do not know not to go on a desert island with no one, or in another country, far, far away from here in the countryside, on top of a mountain to raise sheep (why not? haha) in a remote village in the wilds of Wisconsin scratch and create, without anyone to fuck, and that in half a century, melancholia, they come to us because we miss them (although never so much that we miss WO), to know what is is now, by asking us above all not to ask any question about their absence. If only ... If only it could be that.
is already two hours I am on this article, with the unpleasant feeling of not having advanced. Now write the words clearly not enough. How will I do? What will become of me? How are we going to learn to live? Is it possible to breathe with a gaping hole in the middle of the soul? : I do not know. Nothing. I do not know. No.

Mood: big bad.
RB: Demolition - Patrick Wolf.

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34 - "Il était grand, et rose ! Non je ne parle pas de mon sexe". Merci Rodrigo.

It's Sunday evening. I just go home, tired. I'm dressed a bit like Jim Morrison, white shirt wide around (amazing for a 36), black trousers, black boots. Miss more than a good belt loops and I was singing and song takes Alabama. I decided that I would finally get a tattoo. For years, I think, and now that I have a job (at H & M, nldr) therefore a reasonable monthly income, I can think of a more serious and concrete. Meanwhile I hope you're well wherever you are, you feel not too lonely. I finally bought a hat guy has done the war. She is super nice, even if full of balls calling me "sir" when they see me in the street. I'm revealing my list to John-David Theobald, he said, "Respect". I said I would rather "abuse". I do not know why but the last few hours I seem to have lost something, like an arm, a kidney, then eventually something super important, but I do not see anything. I have super sore fingers, yet I have not stuck in a door. I just remembered that I was allowed to film dancing merrily on the soundtrack of Rocky Horror Picture Show and Paris Latino, meaning that my reputation is made (or défaite, ça dépend de quel point de vue on se place). Quant à toi, tu me manques à mort mais je me soigne. Du moins j'essaye.

Humeur : chelou le loup.
B.O. : I suppose - Jonjo Feather.

Camila Rodrigues Forum Trans

33 - New words of wisdom.

You pretend to be there for me
But in the end, you just ignore me
And I can't say what hurts me more
The game you play or the final score

But who am I to say these things
To know how or why or where life brings
And I made my best so I think I like down
Embrace my weary head, suppose belong now

And I ain't got the time, and I don't have the patience
For you or your kind, and all your relations, no
New words of wisdom, from all friends of mine

So you go your way and I go mine
And it kinks me to say that it wasn't our time
But I see you again undown that broad
And I call you friend but we both know
That a thousand years couldn't build these wounds
And all our tears could build these rooms

And I ain't got the time, and I don't have the patience
For you or your kind, and all your relations, no
New words of wisdom, from all friends of mine

And I ain't got the time, and I don't have the patience
For you or your kind, and all your relations, no
New words of wisdom, from all friends of mine.

Mood: while brothel.
RB: New Words of Wisdom - Brendan Benson.

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32 - One choice to ending two lives.

Because it is so secretive and yet so public. Because he'll have it all be very strong, regardless of the "camp" to which one belongs. That we forget anyone. Because it was violent, and I still tremble. Because the collateral damage could be enormous. Because I am struck, I am silent, my silence melts on my cheeks. Because it is mainly the fault of bad language those who make and unmake Paris. Because they should be ashamed of them, those bad language, shame to have broken so many lives. Because such souls will haunt us for long. To not be forgotten, either silent or still alive. And we will never forget, no matter where they are.



Mood: Sonne.
RB: Rich Girls - The Virgins.