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43 - Don't wanna waste away my life-savings, too many feelings left to save.

It was dark and I do not really know where it was. It looked like a festival, just the same kind as the Garden Nef Party, except that the site was directly integrated into the site itself. We were three. It was after a long period of isolation, stubble and dirty clothes, but it felt good. He seemed to rediscover all, he was touched by every detail of what we live, the drunk people around us, the guys on the side of the stage who smoked, all alone, the sun was setting and the cold that s' installation, how sassy she had painted her nails, holes in my sneakers. Everything. He was so changed that he hardly spoke. She went to fetch us beer, leaving me alone with him, I had not seen for so long. I knew the next day he was leaving, I knew it all. I knew this time would not know it when we see him again. He had two days of suspension, to say farewell to life, and it is with us he chose to pass. Eternal gratitude. We were both then, and I did not know what to say for fear of disturbing her back among the living. So I called him, then walked up and I took him in my arms. It lasted ten seconds, a minute or perhaps five, I do not know. I had my nose against his neck, his beard pricked me but it felt good. It was not cold, unlike me. Then it became moist, and me too. I asked him why he had done "it" and he did not answer. We just cried and it was enough for an answer. She arrived, interrupted our embrace and made me a thousand reproaches. "It is fragile, you know very well that you would not do that." No I did not know. I knew nothing, what to do or not do, I was just doing things by instinct. I was only assured that I shall never see him again. In the end, we decided to sleep under the stars. Each For its part, although his eyes he asked only one thing: not being alone.

Mood: Wounded.
RB: The Crystal Ship - The Doors.
Pic: Tibo Zissou

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42 - 'Cause I adore(d) you.

You do not deserve me. It is obvious now. It took you pronounce these words these, and you do not pronounce those. It's a shame, yes, that's a shame.
It always comes back to the maxim laid by Jude: "To say things and act as if we had not known it is wrong." You is the perfect example. You have memory failure or just hidden disincentives? Do you express your faith in me to finally smiles do worse than before? You tire me, and I'm tired of being tired. Especially when the result is invariably the same name.
is decided, it will not be for me to come to you from racking my brains for plans to con in order to be perfect, to bleed me again, as tonight, because I was afraid of our whites. It will be up to you to make these sacrifices then. It will not be for me to strive for perfection, to be afraid of the slightest misstep, anxiety every contingency. I dump everything. Torture yourself just a little, not even a tenth of what I am killed, you'll see if it's easy. I wish you much courage or not.
I'll raise a finger over for you, nothing will come from me, I'll be dead, as you were so used to doing. Let's exchange the roles, I appointed thee the burden. You have no choice if you want me to prove you've changed, roll up your sleeves and plan provisions; the wilderness may be longer than expected.

Mood: upset.
RB: Razorblade Sky - Queenadreena.
Pic: Jude.

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41 - L'alcool, le manque, et la maladie mentale.

is done, we are in 2009. This Christmas Eve was very strange. Even unhealthy. Hiding in the bathroom to cry it's not very nice what. Crying what, you say? Crying shame, despair, doubt, tiredness, fatigue, anxiety, lack.
"I do not know where I'm past few days, what I should do, how I should react. I lost track. I was so sure of myself there not long ago, I 'were content to be distributed on new foundations, to be moved on ANYTHING basically. But it took you disembark like that, without warning, you fucked everything I had managed to repair weak, that you violated one by one the barriers that I put my heart before. You're a bulldozer. I hate you. I am not unsettled and I really like this. For once I had asked nothing and I was careful not to make a pretense of fuckin first step towards you. For once, I remained silent, erased ... You suddenly wanted to change that. Help me to follow you. Help me to know what I should do. Start by not already make me doubt, by no longer make me doubt. "
That is what is going on in my head while my tears flowed for the second time that evening. Yes because there was a first time. It was just because I realized that I could be pretty unbearable. I wanted to slap me, me bleed. Yet I tried to make efforts, when I heard my own voice, for example. There, I said to myself internally "Warning, you're a ball at that moment. Shut your mouth for a moment, do you remember, then forget that you did and again." And obviously it did not work. I hate myself. That
, 2009, you give envy.

Mood: lost.
RB: After Hours - The Velvet Underground.
Pic: Irina Ionesco.

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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 .