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48 - Garçon ! Un double triangle équilateral s'il vous plait.

PoPoPo Friends, last night was to be the evening of tuberculosis, it did not happen. We had originally planned to go to Regine, in Crimea possible, and dressed in our finest dresses (or not). Unfortunately for us, after long hours of waiting outside the club, completely fastened to each other, we were not always entered. Fuck 'em, go to Tania.

Tania, 0:30 am, empty rooms. "Rich Girls" sounds, bim, it does tilt. A few sips of rum later and here we are on track (ouuuuuuh). Was it well. A few minutes later, all the recalibrated Regine finally decide to come to this club kitsch. There are too many people, it's drunk, it's fatigue. And if you come home?
Finally, no. The house, it will not for now, enjoy the evening. Girlfriend and myself Hail to half a billion taxis, none of them take us as they are "all" caught. So we find nothing better than to keep walking, singing to warm the Stripes and yelling "PÉÉÉÉÉDÉÉÉÉÉÉÉ!". We arrive gradually Rue de la Madeleine. "Oh but it's really not far from Truskel! Come on, let's go, ranafout. We're gone. It was full of bullets, the redneck, the regulars were absent, which was surely a good thing. The main thing that was cool.
Finally, we ended the evening in Austria, an express trip unorganized totally improvised. His sixth journey to her, my 19th. One would be much like tides, especially given the delicacy and tact of the Austrians! The least we can say is that they transcend the limits. Yes, yes. Alcohol teach me something useful: I speak a presqu'excellent English when I'm soaked, while sober, it's total darkness.

This article was full of private jokes, most of you should understand anything, and I 'm sorry.



Mood: better.
RB: My ride for me - Edith Piaf.
Pic: Luca Gabino.

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47 - You never hold me like your little piece on the side.

Something has changed. I became apart, put me on the low side, I have the impression of being in the race. I was dumped on a motorway. I feel totally isolated. We do not care what I feel, no more invites me to parties and even the most simple questions, I am invariably the last to know everything, you do not listen to me when it will not, in fact we do not notice when it goes wrong. You argue with your eyes closed, guided by I know not what. You do not see when I call-rescue when I'm on the verge of irreparable harm, you hear nothing. Not even a whisper. I have the unpleasant impression that everybody was dropped, and I do not know what is the reason. I feel like shit in the air, from far away and alone, without giving further (anyway we do not ask me), leave all these people in their quiet little life shit. I'm in a period where I need to be surrounded, smothered limit not to die, and you're just the opposite. You all turn me back, everyone has a different degree. You prefer your new friends to your old girlfriend, you act as if it does not matter to me. I'm not jealous, I just do not want to fall in your esteem for no reason, I do not want to take my place, that place, I fought for it, fought with myself and lose it would be an overall failure.
I would like to limit all let you down before you do it. This will do less harm. I'll do it someday. When you never hear from me, you understand.
This is by no means the paranoid. It's much too recurrent to be. If the idea that it can be went through your mind, then I think you really have nothing SEIZED. We have nothing to say.
Still glad I Miss Amanda.


Mood: as the straw in the desert, so cliche.
RB: Eyesight To The Blind - Placebo.
Pic: Magdalena Fischer.

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46 - Beautiful friend, the end.

I got a fucking blow last night. The worst thing. I'm forced to mourn a person still alive, and I do not support it. When I think of my tears come, I want to hurt me, to disappear, since anyway I'm nobody. Disappear. 4 ... 3 ... 2 ... 1 ... Implosion imminent.

And I cannot look inside HIM anymore.

Mood: senseless.
RB: The End - The Doors.
Pic: Maciek Pogoza, again.

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45 - I love you baby, can I have some more ? Ooh ooh, the damage done.

Nothing nothing nothing. I do not understand. I do not know how to react, I do not control anything anymore, I am again caught up in a situation cacatoesque (Gary and Jude if you read this, I hear you sing on). There is positive, negative, but mostly non-classified. I do not know how to interpret its behavior, how to decipher how to guess what's in his head, what he expects of me. It was so
innattendu everything. All was not perfect, but particular. I am ashamed to have drunk so much. I should be pretty ridiculous, not to walk straight, with the girls yelling, spilling glasses, failing to properly articulate. I blame myself for not having found the opportunity or the right time to address important issues, for which I am moved. I also want not to determine where does this discomfort that a. Why is it so secure? I do not know. I am worthless.
was beautiful at times though. I well remembered all those moments. When I woke up slowly and I felt his arm around me. When his long hands roamed my back, my arms, my face. When I met his gaze and he smiled at me. When he held me tight in her arms. Several times. I felt like that day never stops. And finally the time passed, and then everything fell apart. Finally I'm exaggerating a bit but hey. I terribly afraid of falling into the same relationship a few months ago, which I expect nothing but me nothing but doubts. Wait, always wait a little sign that never came (or too late) and that there will probably not do. Sad refrain is not it?

Well, fortunately I also saw my copinous dj set for the famous Glitches that everyone has heard (with the ad we did in the streets of Tours, it was not hard to come) . I went to Manon's house, I thought it was a small party raised between "us", the band which, overall I can still sober and I find myself surrounded by twenty gus drunk, known and unknown . I had to put me in the bath eh. So I'm BIM glass on glass (Cuba Libre, do not forget me I'm doctor B), and then it already time to leave. Why not the good it is very small, the bouncers that empty slab, they let in all the balls more psychopaths than each other. Antoine sees us, he is tense but he looks happy. His acolytes Clement is thoroughly him by cons. They spend good things okay. After I have some memory lapses. I know that Jude, Manon and myself found ourselves in the street blouses for I know not what, we walked, we yelled, we laughed, it was cool, I drank glasses but I remember not having paid one and I wheeled excavators and Jude Bertrand. Those are my only memories of Why Not. A remake anyway, with less rum this time to see.

Mood: Lost Control.
RB: All the Little Pieces - Louis XIV.
Pic: Maciek Pogoza.