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54 - Magpie.

I think I could put my nose in this piece of cloth for hours. Until clear of the smell, it is in me, beyond my pores. This material a bit harsh, a bit old and damaged, too late, so nothing but could become so important, even indispensable. I immersed myself again and again without tiring myself, until no longer differentiate the smell of the neutral gas in my room. And it soothes me. I'd already fucked?

next day's edition:
That, I feel nothing. I think I've taken everything. Et .. I finally think I not. Should maybe I nail my fucking feet down, and I stop to think that I will grow wings one day back. I write, I write constantly shit to try to persuade my self, but it does not work. I am nothing, or at least not much, I do not exist for most people, while they may occupy an important place in my universe. I shall never have the charisma and charm of these people that we admire, that fascinate. I'd like to fascinate. I want to be something that could not happen. It 's not for nothing that I have chosen nickname as "Heroin". I went from "Candy" to "Heroin", yes still the Velvet Underground, but what do you want. I went from a sweet, which can be superficially addicted to hard drugs. I would like I give importance. No, I will like that one gives me important. The importance that I deserve, not what I would not support. I would like

fascinates you, t'intriguer, being bullied, you make nice, make you loving, and holding fast.

Mood: pensive .
RB: Magpie - Patrick Wolf.
Pic: Cole Mohr.

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53 - There's always the sun.

I lose control of a lot of stuff these days, and I know not why so. Earlier I thought about it in my shower. I reckon that Actually, I'm so confident that if I live my life is to miss that stuff when it happens cool / normal / reassuring, I do everything to bring them to room. Involuntarily. Unintentionally so, because I will like to pass my life, have a good job not depressing (so that would be to do something I like, not get up too early and not go to bed too late), having a cool guy, not necessarily normal but is in the same trip as me, an irrelevant and a little crazy, I will like also to have money but not too much history not to abuse it, always have the same friends until the end , have a nice apartment in Paris and nearby suburbs (Mantes I will fly you one day, wooden cross, iron cross), to travel around etc. ... Be free and happy what. Joy.

Instead of that, I have a job that does not interest me at all and in which I am working much (dangereeeux), I do not have a boyfriend but I am surrounded by psychopaths notorious (or guys cool but not clear in what they do. Yeah nan psychopaths what), and too little money to break me of my home. So when it's like that bah j'picole to forget and it amplifies the whole Total cacaterie of my life. What am I going to do it myself eh? J'vous like the wonder. Good

something else when cooloss even to tell, the Stranglers concert last night. I will not go into details, but basically we drank free (damn white rum filled to half a large glass -___-"), the concert was awesome even though they have not played Don 't Bring Harry, we went backstage afterwards with alcohol will once again leaning on the bar with Jean-Yves Lafesse Dani and then placed on top of the stairs to watch all these people, not realizing where we were . I think I remember that night all my life I was so upset .... And I do not think the only one.

Mood: Frightened .
RB: The Stranglers - Always The Sun.
Pic: Dan Elstone.

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52 - I wanna be beside her, she wanna be admired.

"I feel the loss but she does not care. That may be what she is looking after all. I certainly tired force. Everything is done and discards, we all know, but I thought that we would dispose of it so quickly. She releases my hand, I do not want more than the tips of her nails. She likes to hurt me mentally and physically, it amuses, and I am silent because I have nothing to say not to aggravate this situation even if offensive. I have often blue, sometimes I bleed, but "it" must be for good cause. When I look into your eyes, it's more that I see it, but the girl that hundreds of people cross the street without knowing. And when she looks at me ... in fact it does not even look at me more, she placed in the landscape in the background, yes, deep down behind the trees, in dark colors. In the same table, we see few other figures in the foreground. They are painted with care and thoroughness, it was applied to draw them into his world. And I'm just a squiggle there, deep down, buried.

But all that she does not care ... she does not care ... She cares. "


Mood: babebibobu.
RB: What Ever Happened - The Strokes.
Pic: Nina Hartmann .

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51 - LAVOISIEEEEEEEEER !

is stoned to forget twice in two days, and violently. Blowin ti that I put myself to become a Lambda Lunch? Good. Telling. I know I'm not obliged.

Saturday evening. It crunches under your teeth, c ' is yucky, too bad more is moldy. I wonder at every moment, "Why we do this already?" Jude and I answer "Because we're unhappy" with a laugh. I agree. So here, eat eat eat, then isolated all three, along with our faithful acolytes who held the role of nanny in case of sore tonight. After half an hour, we burst out laughing for no reason, it was hot, then cold, then hot, then trembles as ever. The light in the room has changed, it seems that everything is in fact not so smoky. Me (and I am the only obviously), I see my friends in contrast, the curtains move, then the walls, and I also see the shot glasses to fill in all alone. Wow. After I can not say what happened, I know we went through lots of phases, euphoric, philosophical ("If you drink no water, we meeeeeeeeeeurt! "), posed like hypnotized. In short, completely skewed the babes. It was cool, but not génialissime coolosse.
Well then we sleep blah, the next day I'm going in the direction of Father Lachaise with Vincent and his (two) friends for booze in honor of the Lizard King. Unfortunately the nasty guards have kindly understand that 1) alcohol is prohibited in the cemetery 2) they track us if we do not respect the 1). bah So we went into hiding at the side of Montand, Signoret and Bernhardt. Hop, a bottle over. Then came the second. Finally, the cold was due to us, and we decided to continue the warm evening. Episode 2: here we are at Vincent, zouip, a bottle of white rum down. Then after it was quickly attacked that of his cousin Amber. After I do not remember much of what happened, apart from some minor shouting matches, two or three doors slamming, and loud music in the ears. I like to see us all gathered around the microphone screaming lyrics into yogurt. But I also remember The end, where we were seated at three, by taking him by the shoulders, being completely other, completely disconnected. Exhilarating. This is more than adequate as a word want.

After these adventures of the soul, nothing was forgotten. Confessions on the pillow ":" There's only one guy who never liked Myself, "" I never see him again and it breaks my "versus" I'm afraid of being alone. " Oh JOY.

Mood: haggard (it says?)
RB: The End - The Doors.
Pic: Post Secret.