Hindsight from a past pain

I know now why people always seemed to fear me when i was growing up, it's because i always let them a place to be when communicating with them, i was fully present and sharing my truth, but without feeding their ego need for recognition, and attention, i was preserving my unicity, i was saying what i felt personally, intimately, in my mind the purest and most authentic way to share with someone, telling what i feel, my opinions and thoughts, and not trying to please or go in the other's direction to get something out of him, like most of people do, the ego wants something out of the other or it's not interesting and it falls into indifference, i always let people a place to be themselves around me but if they don't know who they are, then they don't know what to be, they are unconscious of their own power to be real and happy right now, and that respectful place becomes a danger for them, they fear to be nonexistent, they fear to die, at the time i was thinking, confused : "I don't understand, i want to communicate and i'm completely real but still they flee me, they are affraid of me." Now i know, i won't be hurt by those reactions, and i know my need of attention was coming from the ego, i have the power on myself now or slowly getting it.

Funny truth about gossips and the functioning of the ego

"Whatever is the behavior shown by the ego, the hidden form motivating it is always the same : the need to distinguish, to be special, to have the control and the attention, the need for power, the need for more. And, obviously, the need for a sentiment of division, of opposition, the need to have ennemies."

Eckhart Tolle

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In the recognition of what is fake there's already the birth of what is true.


For example, you're about to tell someone an event happened recently.

"Guess what? You don't know it yet? Let me tell you?."

If you are vigilant enough, you could maybe notice in you a brief sentiment of satisfaction right before telling your story, even if it's bad news. This feeling comes from the fact that during a short instant, for the eyes of the ego, there is an imbalance in your favor between you and your interlocutor. During this brief instant, you know MORE than him. The satisfaction you feel comes from the ego et from the fact that your (fake) sentiment of self is stronger than your interlocutor's. Be him the president or the pope, you feel superior in that moment because you know MORE. This is why a lot of people like to talk gossips. Moreover, gossips allow to add an element of criticism and malicious judgment on others, which also reinforce the ego by the implicit but imaginary mental superiority which is there each time you judge someone negatively."

Eckhart Tolle

The ego functions on a matter of "more or less" than the others, searching to compare you, making you feel inferior or superior, and obviously all this reasoning by the ego is wrong and won't allow you to be at peace within yourself, satisfaction through judgments and unstable non-lasting objects or acts never stay, it's a short lull before falling down again and feeling constrained to seek for MORE, this is the ego.
Reality is that you can be, and be peaceful with yourself right now.

More about conscioussness

Behind every fear there's a desire which is the opposite of that fear (ex : i'm affraid to be rejected, i have the desire to be accepted), but this way always linked to the pernicious ego, because if someone had the conscioussness of his own worth simply in the fact of being, that the source of all energy is inside each one of us, then there won't be any fears and any contrary desires associated, there will only be the knowledge deep inside us about what we feel is pleasant and beautiful, with the respect of everthing else and being open to discoveries without fearing to lose oneself or die, because what we are is already inside us, formless and powerful.

Do you seek for peace or drama? (approximate translation)

"You want peace. Everybody want peace. Though there is something else in you that wants drama, that wants conflict. Maybe you can't feel it at that time and you'll have to wait for a favorable situation or even only a thought who will trigger a reaction in you : someone that is accusing you for this or that, who doesn't say hello, who invades your territory, who questions how you do things, a disagreement about money, etc. Do you feel the huge wave strongly surging in you, the fear, hidden maybe by anger or hostility? Do you hear your own voice becoming abrupt, strident, louder or deeper? Do you succeed at observing your mental pedaling to defend its positions, justifying itself, attacking, saying reproaches? In other words, do you succeed in awaking yourself in that moment of unconscioussness? Do you feel that something in you is at war, something that feels threatened and that wants to survive at any cost, something that needs dramas to affirm its identity of victorious character in that theatrical production? Do you feel that something in you prefers to be right than to be at peace?"

Eckhart Tolle

This is the ego, your true identity is beyond.

There's no negative experiences, even in an uncomfortable situation, if we know how to detach ourselves and observe what is. In the end, when conscious, nothing can really hurt us on our deepest level, there's no reason to reconsider what is already perfect. Nothing is serious, no event of life.

A Change

I got rid of the "dramatically" in my thinking, now stays the "intensely", the "passionately" mainly, and it's so much more relaxing and pleasant to see life with that openess, i still use sinister antitheses and the words of doom, but i'm conscious of it now, i'm not controlled by my sad thoughts anymore, i took some distance and i still like to play with it, but i'm the master now.

(Here's my pet "you're an ugly worthless man" thought,

come here, 

puppy,

tss, tss

puppy, puppy, puppy

yeah good boy!

Oh! and here's "you're unworthy of love"

come give daddy a kiss,

yeah good puppy,

see you around boys, i've got bigger fish to fry,

litterally,

ah ah ah

...

that's a change of pace!

oh no, "you're helpless" don't bite me,
don't...
such a wound,
sometimes, i can't lose so much blood.)

tranquil ubiquity

The room is dark, i'm standing in front of the window, perfectly still, thinking, outside it's mayhem, i can hear the wind roaring vehemently, monotonous and regular blasts, cutting through the incessant rain, falling fast, hurling drops on the panes, splashing all over, like a warning, a threat, defying people to go out, antennas and cables are swinging, whipping insanely around, and loud noises are reaching me sometimes, a breaking pot, a shutter flapping on a wall, a vibrating gutter, under that sky uniformly blank, dismal, everything is going mad, and i'm fronting that tumult, behind the glass, in the shade of my little room, and i wonder what will someone think to have a glimpse at that picture, a man, motionless, in the dark, staring at a storm, i figured it's a gloomy setting, a scene preceding a suicide in a film, and no one would want my place, but me, i was peaceful.

Ego garbage and something to connect us all

Beware about "i like ..." " i don't like..." those are ephemeral forms, identification to things prone to change, like your body, like the volubility of our thoughts, it's inconsistent, like fashion, if you think that's what you are you'll be inconsistent too, and you'll begin to miss and to search for more, it's the same with the fake love for someone, if it's painful it means you identify too much and don't evolve with the respect of your inner being. Keep that in mind, nothing is serious, no thoughts is to be taken seriously, no orders, no mass morals, this is not serious, this is ponctual and useless, created only to control, someone with full consciousness don't need rules or identifications to find a lasting peace in himself, others will go from one little satisfaction of the ego to another, always dropping down hard, hitting the pit of sadness, regularly, because nothing is ever enough in this world of desiring the icons, thinking that a t shirt with a logo on it makes yourself a better, a cooler person, honestly think about that, this is untrue, like the thought that you are incomplete when you're not with that special person, this is a desperate cry of the ego, the fake self, the greedy one, that the master brains of this society know how to use, how to trigger, you most of you, you walk into it, you wish to own, more violently, to possess, hence iconic objects or the body of a particular type, on that road you'll never be satisfied, the ego will ask more and more, identifying each time then ending disapointed simply because this is not what you are, "i like... " and "i don't like..." is not what you are, wake up people, open to your consciousness, you are strong inside, and already beautiful enough, you can live for yourself and with the perfect bond with any other awaken human beings, this is the ultimate solution for mankind to continue to live, in peace and help, respect and acceptance, the advent of a new way to be, following what is real, sturdy and still in everyone of us, living for peace and love, unconditionally.

(It's healthier wanting to create a connection with a person because you sincerely want to know her than because you feel she is a part of you that you painfully miss when she's not around, so you run after a part of yourself in fear to die and not because you value the other and really want her close. That's the difference between respecting a person and falsely identifying to her, and in my case love from respect is so much stronger because endless and real, in that state we feel we can share everything with the person, no secrets, no contained emotions, we are in peace with ourselves, ready to share it all safely, and that balance exists, every communication is a suject of joy because it's the most honnest sharing.)

respect + acceptance = true love

complete, within, free,

that's how i envision it

to oneself first then to others

Some lines from Kurt Cobain (coming from my recent watching)

"Most of the lyrics are just like contradictions and..., i write a few sincere lines and then i have to make fun of it with another line..., i don't like to make things too obvious because if it is too obvious it gets really stale, shouldn't be in people's faces one hundred percent of the time..., we don't mean to be really cryptic, you know, or mysterious, i just think that lyrics that are different and kind of weird and spacy paint a nice picture, you know, this is the way i like art."

"I would like to think there's some purity in this, yeah, naive, purposely naive."


and that part where he says, no matter if you don't know how to play as long as you do it with passion.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VNMuFotUTbI

common mistake from a lack of self love

You push people to love you, desperately, anyone getting close desires you, you make it that way, because you can't love yourself enough so you need their love to give you substance, you give your body, you submit your mind, you do unfathomable compromises, but then you are disapointed, sad, and you reject them, because you realize very few can match you, very few really accept and wish to understand you, that you're not real with them, wearing a mask, putting a false attitude is so tiresome. This is what happens to those who seek acceptance in the others, the correct answer is to find peace in oneself, and all is there, love, acceptance and respect.

Space

Writing has no sense when we can speak

What's the purpose to dream when we can live

I can't come up with something better because there's no form anymore, this is perfect and there's a place to be for all next to me, the wicked and the vile, and you all in your fright.
The beautiful and simple you.
But you have to understand it to be able to share it with me.
Come.

Fragility

No one knows what i'm capable of for that passion that is me, instilled in everything that makes my path, everything that comes out of me, the words rolling on my tongue, melting like honey in my mouth, the electricity moving my arms, letting my fingertips glide sensually, and when i tilt my head to watch at my love on a new improbable angle, that passion, once blood dripping on a sheet of paper, transports me on hills and sing like a fool in ecstasy, it's trembling and begs to be freed, if no one knows it's because no shell can attain so much love without dying, not even mine, not even my gritty little heart, in search for the indestructible balance of a resonating love.

For better understanding between men and women

(I may be wrong here, don't lynch me, but i feel to write that, if you have things to add to the subject please say your opinion respectfully)

Here's up to me part of a secret about men.
To act sexually with a woman, a man has to see her as an object of desire, "object" is the key word, so he has to shift his focus onto the animal part in him, it's like changing tracks on a cd, he has to lay down the thinking part : the brain, and the emotional part : the heart, because if a man keeps too much sensitivity into intimacy he will make love with caresses (finally more like a woman will do), a lot of attention and kind words (the intensity depending on the personality of the man obviously), but no penetration, for the blunt and vulgar sexual act he has to switch and take the woman as an object to possess entirely, it can be traumatizing for a man, schizophrenic (it has something to do with the feminine and masculine parts that we all have inside us), and after the act it requires to switch again to the passionate mind or the "heart", something more gentle to stay beside his partner and continue to comfort her, and it can take a moment for a man to switch back, i guess that's why some men need to take few steps away after the act to recompose themselves or they need to stay silent, so please be lenient, but i want to add that if a man takes too much time, or sighs to come back, maybe that means he just considers the woman he slept with as a piece of meat and all he wanted was carnal pleasure and no other sharing, not from the heart.
I guess in women, emotions and sensations are closely tied up, they function mostly with the heart, while men has to shift often during intimacy, between the animal part and the sensitive part in them because they need focus and can focus only on one thing at a time (unlike women who are more "multi-task" persons), and that's not so easy, hence the incomprehension that can rise between man and woman regarding affection.

It's nice to make love with carresses, but it is said that when a man discovers the other way to do it, the animal way, then he can't go back and will mainly be stuck onto direct sexual relations, can't we switch willingly then?! hmm.

Elementary : one goal is to feel fine with others

Not everything is love.
Not everything is related to sex and intimacy, absolutely not, only one thing is certain it's that we feel the greatest joy when we share something with people we feel perfectly safe with, whatever is the thing you share, even the worst : a bad movie, a walk for mushrooms in the forest even though you dislike eating mushrooms, a nasty junk food meal, crossing smelly devastated areas, speaking about suicide and children rape, these can seem like painful moments but if you share it with someone you feel fine with then you'll keep a peaceful feeling out of it, whatever the person is : man, woman, older or younger, handicaped, ill or healthy, sharing the complicity and freedom of communication is what makes you feel satisfied and at peace in your life, and obviously you don't need to be intimate physically with everyone you feel fine with because here enters the question of sexual orientation, body traits likings and personal attraction for features of plain appearance.
I can feel so satisfied and peaceful at the end of a day spent with one or several male friends, without feeling the need to touch or tease cause i'm not homosexual and attracted to them physically, or a female friend with which we philosophize all day, and it's so rewarding, but i know i have no attraction for her body. People like me are intimate, they function the best in a small groups, even more in face to face exchange, but intimate means intimate to oneself, being close to one's true self in front of the other, without mixing, just feeling that freedom to be with the other.

Being free

I don't love like in the movies, i don't love like in the poems, i don't love like in the books, i don't love like everyone thinks we are supposed to, i don't know what it is, i'm probably already over that, is holding hands under the table at a banquet dinner, attachement?, or above, a piece of love?, it's a source of instant need for being comforted, be stronger in oneself thinking "i am not alone", i don't plan to be dependant, a zombie of love, i want to be fine with myself alone, a free electron, and give to who i feel to and to who wants me, but we are trapped from the start, and me more than others, my body tingles, i can imagine my hands revering someone else, pressing her against me in the most peculiar places, i'm like a faithful cat (don't think it's an oxymoron), i escape from the grip and caresses, untamed like i'm belonging only to myself, and i come back slithering gracefully to stay close for a moment of intense affection, and there is so much desire in me, but my mind play it proud, and sting me with the trident of the devil, warning me that i could end up like them, brainless, dull and superficial, if i give way to my wild imagination to try what others seem to venerate, they say we have to kiss before going farther, oh my case is so special, and i fear the eyes laying on me, i kiss every part of the skin but my lips slip sideways when i say bye, don't judge me, i'm a confused beast, there's a war in me, there's a pit like moat all around me, i'm careful and passionate when i give, then i retreat in my self hatred, all i want is carrying you in my arms to that place where my love runs free.

reminder on a false belief to change

My self worth is defined by the sincerity others can give, that's why i feel so influenced by the surrounding hypocrisy, this has to change if i don't want to feel hurt constantly, i must find myself worthy only because i exist, and that i'm sincere with myself.

the illuminated misfit lone rider

I ride my bike at night, when almost all natural light is gone, when immensity catches on, that we believe we're gonna be sucked away and disappear, when it's a time for poetry, i put on loose and weary training pants, a grey waterproof coat with high collar, and some old sneakers with cracking seams, i put on my headphones, a big set, encompassing my ears entirely for the music to hit my soul stronger, i play rock and impetuous tunes, long, eerie, instrumental, but not only, i play classical and saddening songs, i listen to teachings, a man with a slow deepened voice, i feel transported, i ride fast, the wind whiping my face, making my eyes cry behind my glasses, i ride far away, randomly, on which path my mind is attracted to, until my arms get stiff, and i can see the all too prominent muscles and protruding veins of my body, my hands griping tightly the handle, i pass in front of heavily lighted restaurants, clubs, gas stations, i see people dressed smart, pretending to have a good time or really having it, flirting in the darkest spots outside, while others are chatting loudly inside, i pass them, shot like an arrow, i watch everything but i don't stay, i'm always on the run, and never fitting anywhere, moving lights, white, yellow, red, become blurry streaks, i see beauty in that environment, the moon and stars always above, the clouds, the tall buildings and tree foliages awe-inspiring, always, i cross bumpy ground trails at full speed, i zigzag in residential neighborhoods, watching through windows shedding lights the people sat in front of their tv set or eating in their modern kitchens, the teenagers playing video games in their rooms, bursting into laughter, then i go slow, hands behind my back, chin up, between towers of cheap dwellings, i feel lively, i'm burning inside, sweat is rolling down the vertical hollow of my sternum, soaking the shirt on my belly, and on my back down my spine, my calves are hardened, my brow is revealed as my hair are gathered backwards in a fuzzy wild mass, i know i look ridiculous and cheap, in exercice, but that moment riding freely is for me a transcendental experience,
i identify so much with that strange looking lone rider,
it's an allegory of my life.

(Piece for a trip)

There, In the night breeze

I'm taking few steps on the terrace,
the night is clear and so many stars are twinkling, much more visible because of the absence of artificial light in this rural town.
A mischievous wind brushes my hair.
I turn back, and she's here.
She's smiling frankly, i can see the shine of her teeth.

I'm feeling playful.

I let my hand twirling in the air, and after a spiral, i put my finger cautiously on her nose with my stretched arm pointing out.

- "Alakazam!",
like i'm putting a spell on her.

I slide down gently, intensely focused on the little patches of skin touching.

- "What is your wish!", she says, entering the game.

We are staring deeply at each other for several minutes now, our heads perfectly still, one face radiating on the other, powerful and profound as two fronting mirrors.

- "I wished your clothes disappear."

She softly washes down my visage with her hand, closing my eyelids by rolling her warm fingers on it.
I stay motionless, a breeze rises up, i get goosebumps and i hear the sweet rustle of leaves in the trees.

- "There you are."

I open my eyes.

She stands here, innocent.
I admire her naked body impudently, bewitched,
and her eyes so bright piercing through me,
her face calm and strong,
and the shine of her smiling, welcoming being.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder

(Robert Dennis Crumb (born August 30, 1943)—known as Robert Crumb and R. Crumb—is an American artist, illustrator, and musician recognized for the distinctive style of his drawings and his critical, satirical, subversive view of the American mainstream.)










 .Modest Petrovich Mussorgsky (Russian: Моде́ст Петро́вич Мýсoргский; 21 March 1839 – 28 March 1881) was a Russian composer, one of the group known as "The Five" He was an innovator of Russian music in the romantic period. He strove to achieve a uniquely Russian musical identity, often in deliberate defiance of the established conventions of Western music.

Rejection, Oppresion, the anger of a hurt ego

That girl, she was sitting on a square chair at a long bulky table, several persons were gathered for a huge meal, coming from behind, that guy, they are the sweet couple, he puts a kiss on the back of her head, surprised she tilts backwards brusquely, hiting him in the jaw, he errupts, waving his arm in front of him like a shield, his body twisted in a momentum to flee away, throwing insults, the whole package of mental rejection and anihilation of the other, in an attempt to settle down the situation she puts a forced smile on her face and shed out quantity of apologizes, her hands regroup on her lap, she huddles up in that familiar frightened form, she must have been used to those raves, the guy went in the kitchen to rince his chin, accusing her, cursing her of her awkwardness, angry words running along the corridors, slowly she loses her smile, then guilt, fear, and self blaming defeat her pretty face, she retracts even more in her shell, her moral drops and crashs on the floor, he comes back, always criticizing bluntly, he makes a circle around her, dismissing with a slap her conforting gestures.Such a fuss for a clumsiness, such disdain, such emphasis to break down a person and mend one hurt ego, how long is it going to last again?

(Those two are a couple for two years and plan to get married)

And we're wheeling out of time

Out of the fast food, i carry a cup of ice cream with me, as usual i'm very slow to eat but we needed to isolate in the fresh air of the night, the main room began to be packed and noisy with ostansibly pumped teenagers;
Lingering meerily on the darkened parking lot we reached the distanced spot where we left the car, the discussion continues, about human relations, we get into this, voluble i pace and hop in front of her, she's leaning on the side door and i act laid back leaving my ice cream on the roof then taking it back several times over her shoulder;
We argue blazingly, our opinions bump, cross and fly around, clinking like do our glances of complicity, grazing like the shine of our smiles, in that jousting we are fairly enjoying;
She calls me a libertine, and refutes my ideas about freedom and self induced happiness, she postulates for faithfulness and the muzzle implicitly set on the members of an old class couple, is she enjoying that confrontation as much as me, the partisan of faithfullness but through personal feelings and not rules?!
Goodnight we say, while she's still teasing me on my ideas.

Some days later, after an evening lasting meal with few common friends to be, i was staying afterwards to help cleaning things up, i needed a ride home and decided to earn it, she was here ready to leave with her own car, but one of my friend already proposed to take me back, it was late in the night already but someone asked if we wanted to see a touching movie, one he wanted to share, (few people had already left, we were now four with me in the appartment), she delayed her departure and agreed to watch the movie, like everyone;
In that odd atmosphere, all muffled and sleepy, dazed by abundant food and wine, she sat next to me on the couch, gathering herself on a corner under her coat, it's october the room began to be cold; Two days before she rejected my theories, that i displayed heartily, with the usual passion and conviction in my words, and that night, under her coat, she takes my hand... my body boils,  confusely at first we rub affectionately, hand in hand, sharing warmth secretly, twisting, caressing with the thumbs, above and under, once grasping tightly then releasing and laying over, i feel the softness of her pearly skin, the sharpness of her painted nails, she searches to entangle our fingers, and climb carefully on my wrist, each our turn we take over and charm the other, that's two hours of delight in a such small contact, it's almost nothing for those who practice it brainlessly, regularly, as an outlet, but what's the most confusing is why she threw away my theories vehemently and still seeks to approach me?!
She's warned, i'm an outsider, a thinker, a loner... a free rider...
an eternal lover.

To now, then nigh, and null (facts of the week)

I want to sit on a different chair, see a new interior, feel a new atmosphere around me, enjoy that peaceful time, (safely, with someone?!)

---------

I can get seasick only by focusing on my heartbeat. It's so strong, i'm shaking.

---------

I need to smell something nice, like a fresh towel or a flavored tea. The bark of a tree, the rain on the pavement. The perfume on my hands after i touched someone.

---------

"No one moved me like..." -dying of a disapointing life-

---------

I want to embrace you in my arms! Cloudy sky with gutter hues, wandering image, windy vast area of wet sand, the many ruffled plants on the endless dune, even you wreckage of an old rusty boat, i want to hold you tight!
(there's always a picture to go with words, if you want to keep the one your mind has created reading this then don't watch that Link [i just love the image])

---------

I was made to be externally poor because i'm rich inside, there's always two faces on a coin.

 --------

We all are superficially beautiful once! Then it fades and those who are weak inside experience dreadfulness until they discover the unchangeable beauty of their inner being. An awakening which for many never occurs in a lifetime.

 --------

Nevertheless, right now, today, whatever love has no grip on me.
Discouragement and unsatisfaction fill me. (the only cause is the lack of sleep, my own fault)

---------

What do you think i write to others?!

 --------

I'm tired of those people of my entourage with no personality (so fearful about themselves that everything is a secret to store in their shell, most of the time unconsciously), and one has to be strong to face me, i long to encounter someone in which eyes i won't read (project) my ugliness and my oddity. I can't give them the security their frightful ego asks for, peacefulness and happiness is to be responsible only for oneself, if they don't want to share why are they asking me to meet them.
Watch out!, by chance, here comes an ambitious one, pulling my arm and flapping her eyelids!
But i'm still cold.

( "Here comes one tough cookie!" they say about her,

But I 

am still starving.")

---------

I'm healed through analysis, thinking and reasoning, by communication, leading to consciousness, because for now i don't have spontaneous consciousness, i need to understand to reach it. Talking heals.

(parenthesis : New MailBox)

New mailbox : tremor_christ@voila.fr

The old one was hacked and closed, i can't read anything from it since a bit more than one week, and i'm too lazy to go through all the tedious steps to get it back.

the constant cheater is the sanest way

What is the most intimate : sharing intellectually the real nature of your inner being or the body?, who said physicality should be indecent and tamed away in human's relations, interactions, more than intellectuality and the disclosing of the deepest thoughts and personal stories hanging around in a mind? who decides?; To me there's no difference, we all have one mind and one body put together, that is who we are, so it's pointless to be ashamed of one part or another, to live peacefully we have to accept our real being, with thoughts, ideas, opinions and stories, that is inside our body, with its shape, silhouette and unique features, we accept who we are and interact with the world and people out there freely. So, does that mean, when i talk sincerely, with open heart, as it's my way to be one and true, to a girl, i am cheating on my girlfriend?, cheating on her intellectually. Think about it and you'll see it's not so different, so we should accept we are only responsible of ourselves, exclusivity doesn't exist, when you are fully unified in yourself. A naked body isn't more obnoxious than a naked mind, as they try to make us believe, just being one and free is beautiful.

the abject affective dependency

I see people and their affectations, and it pisses me off, their glances and contained smiles, they look so shy, as if they were shameful to be attracted or to feel something about attraction on one another, as if it was unatural (No it's not!), and i can tell they are already lost, in thoughts and projections, imagining ideal situations and ideal personalities, already changing theirs to please, they don't know what they want really and are planing what to do and how to adapt. Damn! just define what you feel and think, and go for it, how would you know what's real if you don't go as the real you, with no expectations and no disguise, i guess most people have an affective dependency, they crave to be loved and are ready to anything only for that, even to lose themselves. It shouldn't bother me because i know what i like and i know to disclose what i feel, i can read people's mind with the help of their movements, but those people hit my hardest wound, that i haven't overcome yet, they can manipulate others unconsciously, that's the saddest, by saying "i love you", "i'm interested in you", while it's only a crush, they fool themselves and the others, misguided by their desperate need to please and lack of self knowledge. So stop the fluttering and say straight what is it you are, that's the only way to get close to people you can really like, except that the other has to be frank like this too, and that's where the doubt comes and i feel threatened, i know i'll be honest but i can't be sure that the other is too, and not sadly, unconsciously misleading himself and me in the process.

I don't want to feel disposable.

How do people do?

That's twice that year, i have a girl in front of me, the moment is intimate, a night sky, an isolated place, maybe the sound of a stream of water flowing nearby, calmly, we talked for hours before that moment, easily, emphatically, we had some few drinks too, a connivance is here, getting stronger and more intense after each revelations and stories we shared, we smile at each other, for real, i feel their warm bodies getting closer to mine, searching contact, with fleeting hands, lingering on my back, on my thigh, gliding langorously, the bright eyes are calling me, and the message is clear, no mistaking, i just have to bend over and pick them, hold them like a delicate flower, and i know for sure that's what they expect, an everlasting desire, beyond a replaceable body, we shared mind intimacy, what's labelled "personal secrets", in complete trust, and that's already a zone where even some married persons never went, in few meetings i went with those girls where many people can't go in twenty years of living together, i can feel they are mine, they are surrendering, they are dying for that moment where i'll grab their waist and kiss them tenderly, everything swirling in the heat of passion,... so... with my sensitivity, my shrewdness, i noticed the signs, i read their mind, but that's too obvious, and when i try to feel, when i start to imagine the movement, and them melting in my arms, i feel nothing, i don't feel to act, me i don't have that desire, i don't give in to their appeal, that cry for love, while i know it's genuinely me and not anybody else they want, in that bursting moment, i feel no desire, twice that year without searching it, only being me in front of someone i met, am i broken, not in phase with my animal part despite having no taboo about intimacy, am i too selective, too much aware, or am i wanting, waiting unconsciously for "the One", how do people do?, making it out so superficially, sometimes even with persons they aren't even attracted to.

How
do
people
do? 

For everyone peace

All the negativity people talk around, on each others, criticism and disdain, is only to reassure themselves, in their ego, and is in fact a proof of fragility. Once you get that into your mind you see how much people are weak in themselves, how they are lost, not knowing where they stand and who they are, so no need to take bad talk personally, it's always about the insecurity of the person fuming out on a moment. They are more to be pitied, and simply need for their trouble to be  acknowledged. Just don't feed the anger of someone and lead the situation to a conflict by taking the inner problems of someone onto you, but instead listen peacefully and distance yourself.

..............

"Of course everybody has certain roles to play in this life, but to believe that's who you are, to be identified with that, that's a terrible prison, bondage."

(you can honor the roles without believing that's who you are, you can honor being a mother without this concept occupy your mind totally. Otherwise you will be a mother for the rest of your life and your children will remain children to you. An you always know better, and you tell them what to you, you are trapped in the role. Conditionned roles given by society. Identification to thoughts, which is never enough for the ego, the fake self, never at ease, or fullfilled, at peace for very long, then you fall back to the lack and suffering.)

................

Objects i could tell

The things that are in my room, pinned to the walls, exposed on bookshelves, laid casually on the desk, (among the dust), all have a story, a memory attached, more or less emotional to me, nothing was bought only to decorate, i like to be surrounded by depth and meaning, i like to know why it's there and how it came to me, i enjoy knowing the adventures of how those objects reached me, it's not their shape or their value, beauty comes with the sharing of a past, but i don't need to remember it constantly, i don't dwell in it, i simply need sense and emotions in my life, to settle to what triggers me, consciousness and significance.

some of it :

a giant pink floyd poster

a square of cloth with bart simpson on it, (red veins were drawn in his big "bulby" eyes)

broken and twisted guitare strings, (a collar was made out of it)

old torn tickets from many concerts

little basketball figurines

postcards and books (some are the dearest to me)

an empty bottle of Ramune

flyers for a concert for My band eh eh

a Kronenbourg bottle of beer untouched

a little spiraling seashell

many pieces of paper

a raging hounds painted skateboard

a faded photo from an aquatic theme park

photos and letters

a box of cuddles

so on and more to come...as i feel it along my way, naturally from the present, and remember that objects and emotions aren't who we truly are.

School

I'm walking the floors of a dormitory accompanied with a friend. We are on the area of a big university, visiting another friend who enrolled one week ago. He's not in his room upstairs, male students are watching at us inquiringly on our path, i'm ok because i have that goal to find my friend but it's like i'm out of place, like i have no pants on, i'm not a student. On our way down we meet him at last. He seems very happy and smiling a mile. The three of us we decide to go outside and he starts telling us how it is here. He says he just met two girls and get to an intimate level with them, but that he coudn't "get hard", (i know he is [was] a shy person, so i'm thinking in myself that he will need some time to get used to the promiscuous way of that place), he seems so happy, like he found his dream place, and already imagining all the easy pleasure to take ahead, no more pain, just experiencing all that he wants. We finally sat on the yard right outside the building, my friend is still speaking with enthusiasm and showing us that there is a part of the yard where students meet freely, anybody with anybody, whoever wants, to have open sexual intercourses on the lawn. In front of us, right in front of the building, many naked people are calmly touching and holding each others, you pick a partner, you pick a patch of grass and that's it, you do whatever you want, no restraint, accepted open lecherous intimacy. It's normal here, it's the way.
Dusk is coming, it's late, so we are all heading, in a pack, toward the dining room on the first floor. Everyone is so calm and smiling. We bump into two girls. My friend recognizes them, they are the two from the afternoon. They start talking warmly, easily. My other friend is following them as they sat on a stone bench. I stay behind, observing, distancing myself, still without judging. Everyone is so natural and not making me feel like i'm an outsider, i'm mainly ignored, and my mind is not set on taking part in any action. This naturally the two girls practice a fellatio on my two friends, heartily, meticulously. Some people around still engaged in sharing affection, smiling casually, respectfully, it's all natural here.  My second friend, outsider like me, begins to have that smile too, he's enjoying the freedom of the place.
Finally everyone is inside, except us, and we see workers and teachers carrying in many large somptuous plates with a lot of seemingly delicious and sophisticated food, in a row, smiling cordially, they are going down the light slope, cheering at us while they go to come inside to eat, to enjoy all the great pleasures.
My two friends follow them to disapear through the main door. I start to feel naked again, until then i was calm, observing the attitudes plainly. I stay behind, almost everyone has entered the heavily lighted building, and the last carriers ask me fondly to follow them inside, to let myself enjoy the many pleasures, and all seems so easy indeed. Politely, nodding my head, i wave off the invitation and soon i'm the only one under the wide night sky, sitting on the small wall marking the east boundary of the yard.

Something moving

  Hence the importance to communicate and stay real in the present, to act and not react, to go to what, who, where, we feel we want to go!

lost charm

So many girls swagger around as they are on a podium for a fashion show, cold beauties, with the same glasses, the same pants and the same stance, desperate for attention (and so feebly get superficial worth to how they show themselves superficially), but grace can't be learnt, one must free himself of the material, the image, the projection, let that body move freely out of conventions, fears, masks and pride. It's a shame that the ones the most graceful are those feeling the most uneasy with their appearance, as a desire to be simple, to simply be, they stay discreet, without disguise but feeling ugly for that simpleness and grace;

Society says be in that mold, cold and beautiful, thanks to plethora of products, while i'm thinking : grace is a supreme attraction for me, natural and simplicity attracts its peers. Fake, unatural, exaggerated sophistication goes along with the same.

I feel to be humble and true.

Before, not so long ago (for now)

I used to be, to sound, to think a bit like this guy, i see now, everywhere in the things i check (books, films, comic strips, on the net, in the streets, with friends, whatever...), i see now all the devious reasonnings, all the hidden fears, the judgmental mind, filling the characters, and people, hurting them, making them reactive and defensive, depriving them of being real in the moment, soon i'll be able to see it in myself before it happens and so keep on looking to the positive of life always, keep the peace, the joy and love inside me, feel the stillness of my respectful being, my philosophy is getting clearer, i'll refine it continuously.

Presence

There is such a big sense of waste, i've got in me that i have to awake for a long time now, that's how i was rebellious against the common unconsciousness we all grow in, but that started to glow in me at a very early age, that need to be born to my real self, that's why i feel, felt attacked, threatened in my quest by that deceitful environment, i never bent, i never surrendered, and that was a suffering for many years because i compared, i opposed that being, a screaming voice inside, to what was happening all around me, all over the world, and from  that comes the clash, though it seems so obvious now, what do i need, what's really important to feel as one, simply to let the consciousness of who i am, be, and inhabit fully my body, we don't need what's outside to be true, what we get from outside is only practical knowledge, informations, culture, that doesn't define who we are, because who we are is inside us from the day we're born, we just have to let it be, live, shine, thrive, whatever, all we need to act, to have a good time on earth, is already inside all of us.
Competition, comparison only leads to conflicts, and no one wants to live in fear, so just be real.

(For some i will sound like a guru, they won't understand, maybe those aren't just ready to awaken to themselves, tragically maybe it will never happen, but deep down everyone wants to be free of fears, and live in love and respect)

It's not because i'm not saying that i'm not feeling.

I'm pretty sure now!

Writting is a palliative for us unable to reveal or reach for an instant need, and it's working so well because people just want to dream that much, they fear the present of their own selves, not seeing that they can do what is good for themselves and they can enjoy what is around and inside them.

Tag on roughed up Dignity

The girl stood in front of me on tip toe, making herlself taller, watching me down with a smirk, yes i was slender, i had curly hair longer than yours, call me that girl name, hammer hard the mischievous mistake, astray i'm blushing for your cheek is against mine, your breath under my nose, they teased, they asked me to get close, enjoying my distress to their drive, poke at me for i had the thinness and shy shine blazing their jealousy, desired to play kiss then desired to compare the boy i was to that lively girl, one piece of advice i got, be indifferent!, let the cruel girls get tired of their reluctance to love!, i say now you adviser get of my back and choke in your mean warning, everyone, hate me or love me, come back and mock me to assess the filthy human is born, quite not right, thirty for bruises and sweat, recognition is an universal savior, just don't make me a disolving cloud too far high for your indulging glance.

Hate me or love me, respectfully! Let me keep my dignity. Or i'm going to take it on your ugly unread flesh.

Because I,
love you all!
Humanity my bully.

(It's better to be tolerant because there's one thing we all want. Indifference is the worst.)

"To every comprehension about something, there is, sooner or later, an action..."

The projection Problem

can someone love himself if he can't get rid of the hatred for others?

picture that

I'm a dead crow with a sun consuming heart.

(crow,   

       sun)

You is never me, i put all my madness to rise over this but tonight i feel it's a despicable drama. I'm never the one, chosen, designated by "you". The special, the unique, You, the craved end, that someone burns to possess.

I made it my choice?!, my path, my shield,
i made me disposable. Flirting, close to waste.

locate oneself in one's knowledge

"The question isn't to notice firstly the knowledge of others but to think about the situations, the projects, the resources who will allow each one to pinpoint his knowledge and to find oneself in, to picture oneself in, to have awareness of one's identity; to understand in it what was destructive or constructive, facilitated or made out difficult, what is active knowledge or passive knowledge, what is used without knowing or unused knowledge, what is still to learn, what one doesn't want to learn, what is needed, what will be useful to know, what can be find by cooperation, what can be embellished, enhanced, what is giving birth to oneself day to day."

Loving isn't intellectual, loving doesn't require to do anything!
Anything.
no present,
no pondered attitude,
no preparation,
no cleanliness,

Loving is just being,
raw, blunt,
bared and naked.

(a renewed distance helps, to stay in one's brain, and observe unconditional feelings)

Pleasure to feel and re-feel

Share the treasures,
all that is real inside,
what is learnt only for oneself,
there's so much to give,
it is said "no oppression",
truth must be allowed,
the inner Truth,
good people will know to listen,
to appreciate unicity,
and share back.
A lot was learnt,
recreate by the scent,
the spontaneity of hugging is ravishing,
the time stops,
resting, surrendering,
a shoe or a book suspended in one hand,
the suave taste,
and the transcendantal music,
the encompassing beauty,
the sensations avidly sought,
then preciously stored.

----

It's so good to be able to ask calmly : "what are you thinking about?", to let oneself the time to answer, recollect one's thoughts, probe oneself on the instant, and then share back his own thoughts at any moment; knowledge and experiences are shared to make us richer, all the things that we personally and profoundly like, and that we keep and cherish inside us, that's the meaning of life.

Advices for obtuse people

Sign of a successful education : "believing to be worthy of esteem whatever one is, whatever one does"

The founder desire. Without holding the desire to know one can't learn. One is born with that desire. The young child, in order to learn, doesn't need to search for motivation. He desires to know. The desire gives value to a knowledge.

"Ten babies are in a room, an object is forgotten in a corner, no one cares about it. It doesn't worth a thing. One of the babies desires it and takes it... All others will suddenly want to seize it : nine desires emerge. If someone desires it, it means it's worthwhile."

"It's the time you spent for your rose that makes your rose so important."

"Any comprehension on something correspond, sooner or later, to an action... if the comprehension is critical, the action will be too."

"No one's more deaf than the one who's not listening."

The treasures are in you, pleasure comes when you share your treasures with someone who will share his treasures back.

physical health in communication

We should be able to spot and admit when we need rest, and communicate it if we are with someone, for after having recovered some energy the sharing can continue with motivation, interest and that natural intensity, when we begin to feel distracted and tired in a situation with someone, even sometimes a very good friend, and that we don't really know why we can't assemble our thoughts as easily as at the start of the exchange (some will call that "boredom"), i think very often the explanation is simple, we need to deconnect and have a little rest, we must be able to say to the other :
"Sorry, here i'm a little bit tired, i need to lie down to get my strenght and eloquence back, (or i need to eat something or take some quiet time to think and rest), we will resume our sharing and communication then."
And i swear that it works, to be fine and share fully, be present in a situation, we must be able to listen to ourselves and do what is good for us, being healthy, well rested, having a clear mind, this tremendously helps the communication with the other, to reach satisfaction, we simply need to recognize our personal state and disclose it, without thinking bothering the other, we must listen to ourselves first and be honest, the communication will only be better then.

Make believe speculations on love and hate

On ne peut pas forcer l'amour.
We can't force Love inside us, nor inside others. Either it's here, or it's not, down inside us, and produced by us, depending on the situations and people we meet. (whereas we can rationalize the negative emotions). I make me believe. It's so much easier to be loathed than to be loved!
For now humans are swifter to hate, as they approach their emotions with fear.

we can all shine

I think i'm building that opinion, that when i'm entirely true to the people i talk, it's like i treat them with presents, like i'm offering them a flow of liberating vibes, and so they can be themselves too with me, and see how much it's pleasant to feel unrestrained, free to be real, in the complexity of human emotions, without conforming to norms or general principles, just be real in their truth, it's like i show them a way, naturally, and i don't feel i lose anything because that power is infinite in me, the real me i share can never be detached from myself (like it is for each one of us), i'm just showing it, sharing it, let it shine around people, and i believe enough that i'm right for that to be a good feeling, even if i'm speaking of grim subjects, it feels good to be true, and i'm sure it's a universal feeling, everyone will feel good to be true, that knowledge must be expanded, taught, shared.
We can all shine and be good to each others in our personal truths.

(The way we share is different for each one of us and sometimes despite the respect we have for the other, the communication will be impossible, the sharing won't ever match, in that situation we have to notice it, accept it, then go on our way and communicate with those we feel stimulated by.)

sharing the knowledges, (sharing one true self)

"Teaching, learning, (the relationships), can become a dependence for one, and harnessing for the other. How to avoid the risks of emotional, affective, educational "cannibalism"? The risk of harnessing. How to stay different, to know oneself different?

The child, in order to learn, must separate himself from his mother. While he is tightly coiled in her arms, he sees nothing in the world except this sweet fusion, and can only grab on his mother. He needs to see himself different from her in order to learn, and see her different from him.

If I know that I know only when I am with you, if I don't want to know because you know for me, if I only know what you know, I am captured, I'm in the fusion. If it's only in you and by you that I feel i know, that I think i exist, that I feel acknowledged, then I feel, I think, but I don't know."

without lack there's no expression

"It is by of the Lack that we say everything, the lack to live, the lack to see, it is by the lack of light that we say the light and by the lack to live that we say Life, the lack of desire that we say the desire, the lack of love that we say Love, i believe it's an absolute rule."

M. D

the lack is the need

life's not enough

what's left to do when there's no dream anymore, the dream of a valuable communication, when the person you want to confess don't ever want to hear it, and that you notice few people can hardly match up your passion and only through sensual desires, one night of touching then the void, an enjoyable language which can't last, so vain, that communication can also be my turf, but to me it's not more important than the other forms, those most people don't feel, they are awkward to express, they don't know what to enjoy, what to say, because they don't know what makes them feel, outward of a hand on their skin, i can be that hand, i can focus on the primal passion to worship the other's body, the great arousing, then it's only cinder, cinder and desolation, for me, because words miss them, the passion of something immaterial, the passion to want and really know oneself and the other, outside of the spiral, where there's no fear and all sharing is good, all reflections create the bond, and though i feel unsatisfaction, too many are too far behind, what's insufficient in most is the power to be interested, even if they don't know, just showing that they want to know.

Lonely as a lost shoe

TheLostShoeProject

(i put a link to that page on my blog because i really like the overtone, the message of that project)

the art of non existence

I like the change of hues on the pages of my book due to the change of luminosity when i read while walking in my appartment, the reflection is complex, progressively drifting, gleaming, then lingering, bright and cheerful close to the open window, then darker in the corner next to the kitchen, the stains are revealed on old paper and my shadow sometimes darkens the pages furtively, it's like clouds passing in front of the sun, or experiencing all the emotions of a spectrum, it's changing me aswell, it makes me feel somewhat more alive, the light on a book is adventures in my life, independently of any words.
It's an art not to exist that i know how to enjoy.

"Then someone will say what is lost can never be saved"

I'm watching at a photograph and it's me on it, it's my back, i'm sat on the bank of a frozen lake spreading to the horizon, i project myself into the scene, my straight legs are caught in the ice up to the waist, a part of the land is visible on the left, the air is filled with calmness, everything's frozen, and so white it hurts to watch around, sky and earth merged, i recognize my mom standing on that patch of barren land, forbidden and motionless, she's wearing a long dress with lace, entirely black, alike her long frizzled hair falling on her shoulders, ominously black, her face hardly appearing through the slit in that blackness, without thinking i bend my knees to stand up and so break the ice in a screeching sound, turning my head at the dark, ghostly silhouette in that movement, no reaction, then i stop and stare at what i have done, my wet legs sticking out fragments of immaculate ice, instantly fear seizes me, pounding my stomach, i'm projected back, i see my hand holding the piece of material, i was in and out all along, experiencing the two points of view at the same time, and this sudden awareness to have broken something that won't be ever again rips my guts apart and leave me there, bewildered, terrorized, frozen.

Night, i've got all three around me, famished, grunting and bickering each others to have the biggest piece, "what am i doing?!"

fragile lullaby

I like someone humming in the breeze.

(that shows someone shy, carried by his dreams)

Duras

She presents herself as a bitter person, all is lost, all is sinking, in the end, feelings are a mockery, no one is worthy of her offering long enough, all fades away, only recess and recession are genuine, inconsistant and rebellious in her writings, in interviews, she uses a grim smile and her eyes coo when the darts of her wit hit the blind veneration of her interlocutor, and that's pretty to notice the joy she gets from it, that makes me tender, that little game amusing her, disturbing people, being original, the lecherous goddess of decadence, but like everyone else, in front of the right person, with the right words, will come trust and abandon, the pure being appears, sensitive, under the mocking mask of the misunderstood one, somewhere inside, everyone wants to be seen and accepted as his real self, that can only be found in a shared confidence, and there's a behavioral key that not every others own to reach out to the heart of a person, you can't do otherwise than to drop the mask, even a cherished one, and keep it in your pocket, that moment is sugar, we'll all come back to lick it some more, carried by the tide of this taste at freedom.
Miss you are irreplaceable, a human being i would like to hear the stories beyond, and lift our guards off for a meeting, an emotional duel.

Abomination

Who wants to see the scars in me, on my body, what i've got the most intimate. The luscious scars for disposal. Who wants to be incinerated by my passion, trust me, nourish me.

Who wants to experience the abomination of love.

Sat in the middle of the alley, on the grainy concrete, wearing shorts and t shirt, the evening sun palming the neck, the wind twirling the hair, leaves clapping in the trees, the dusty cat approached suspiciously a clear napking laid in front, on it olives and anchovy carefully taking apart from a preparation of bread and cheese, the murmure of conforting words, the calm gestures, slowly brought the dark creature to let him be caressed, then eating gluttonously what isn't his natural food, his scrawny shape now pacing around and rubbing against the crossed legs, the back of the hand, closing his big green eyes in contentment, asking one brushes his fur more intensely, nature was smiling, from tamming is born attachement, and the magic of a free unconventional moment, no thinking about strangeness, it is good to be good, rewarding to do it naturally and get back pure gratefulness.

(i share because that was a genuine happy moment for me)

the right condition

(soundtrack, can't find the clean version on the net)

Maybe she's right, people use all their life to search for tricks, reasons, means, disguises to create the contact leading [up/down] to intimacy, all their energy!, (it's conspicuous on the streets), while i conditioned mine to build up and educate myself, alone.
I'm a lost cause now.
I should enter a sect to strip me of all that i am, not the money that i don't have, i want to be skinned up to one big ugly sore, a fiery piece of coal, get used and abused, crush my bones into powder and reek again, i want to stink and disgust for an obvious reason, make me the worst of whore because i want to fuck the whole world proudly, everything instead of loving true and that cursed wise solitude, making me lonely even among friends.
(and so, which is about to get a break, maybe a break too sweet)

the sleeping dead

I was getting out, i walked softly through the shadowy living room to reach the main door, my brother was sleeping on his side, almost entirely naked on a mattress thrown randomly to the floor, his image printed in my brain, so fragile, so helpless, in his ridiculous boxer shorts, even despite the prominent muscles of his athletic body, still bulged, round and strong in its rest, a true masculine force;

Cautiously i closed the door, without turning the lock behind me, to avoid any disturbance, halfway in the corridor i stopped, i turned my eyes to the set of foreign doors away in the back, "others"(a whisper), a wave of dread rushed over me, images of my brother, lying dead in a puddle of blood, on that mattress, in that same foetal position, wearing the same ugly underpants, spurts of thick blood on the moquette, prolonging the neat, unrestrained slashes all over his fit body, the horror pierces through me, me the cause of his death, by my will of non existence, my lost confidence, my uncontrolled self, my lack of faith in humanity, my humanity.

about my feelings for any life event

"It's interesting to think that a scene is now down into eternity, set forever in words or images, a slice of life waxed and shiny, put in a jar on a shelf, and i think : "once, in that time, this happened", then the melancholy of the thought fills me whole and i savor it like a direct intake of hard drugs in my veins."

"And that's why i like stories, from past and present."

(real, not fictional!, for fiction it's a different process to get to liking, it's based on understanding and relating with one's own life)

[allow me to quote myself eh eh, and to borrow those words that were for you when i wrote it, my mind all set on a sincere comment about your post, and that led to an important truth on me that i want to keep on my blog, thanks!]

passing the wound (scenes of a day)

The waitress leaned over the table, greeting the settling customers with emphatic politeness, as it's written in the booklet. Two men, probably father and son, directly stuck their arses on the chairs and their faces in the menu, without showing any anticipated pleasure at the idea of a full plate of juicy french fries and a grilled steak, the specialty of the place, without acknowledging the people around. Something was wrong, the young one appeared a bit shaky and distant, like if he was strongly refraining his eagerness to eat, pulling his chair away to escape the silent grasp of his father, and bending his back heavily to hide his awkward smirk between his knees. On the other end of the table was sitting an old man, a body of packed down fat with hardly no neck, scorn was frozen on his face, his only expression, no dynamism to change those traits, a statue of discontent, a crushing machine. The round, happy waitress all enclined to please never received one glance, and she managed to guess the order in the erratic mumbling and grunting. She left, the old man stayed imperturbable in the roughness, the vulgarity his life made him into. Poor men, poor girl, poor us.

One must love things for oneself before sharing it with others.

generally (i see the forgers and the unmatchable personalities)

I do everything not to control people when they are with me, allowing everyone to be true, to feel true, so if the communication is satisfying between me and any others it means they are being their real self, because someone who pretends with me won't feel ok as i give only sincerity, without imposing and without controling or letting the other be defined by me, and without letting any grip for the other to change me, in respectful warning, but always focusing on my good feelings to connect with him and get a real attachment based on the emotions that are good to me, by simply telling my truth i suggest to the other to tell me his truth, if he can't do it then the communication will crash inevitably as i will feel unconfortable and communicate that state, i can't express differently than in sincerity.

(Really i try not to cross the barrier of asking back for sincerity to those who can't give it, and make a natural selection to find who i can be fine communicating with, i did that mistake before, i'm learning my lesson and climb more steps into respect of the other, getting closer to those fitting my personality, my values)

le bonheur - happiness

Happiness isn't a permanent state, it's not an environment we wrap in, not a person we possess,

happiness is something we must constantly recreate

and that comes from the inside of everyone of us,

we can't wait for it and we can't basically be content with it,

we can experience a moment of happiness, enjoying it fully, but one shouldn't believe this state perpetual,

we have to chase it, firstly inside us, learning how we feel,

as it escapes along our emotional changes, raised by our discoveries, through our curiosity

creating new craving, new needs, related to our real personality.

It's being at the right place, at the right moment, doing the right thing, and all these informations are concealed inside.

We must learn to read in ourselves.

Happiness is something belonging only to each one of us because we are producing it on this inside,

and it is different for each individual. It's your inside connecting to the outside for a moment.

----------------

Le bonheur n'est pas un etat stable, ce n'est pas un environement dans lequel

on s'enveloppe, le bonheur est quelque chose que l'on doit sans cesse recréer

et qui vient de l'interieur de chacun d'entre nous, on ne peut pas l'attendre

et l'on ne peut pas betement s'en contenter, l'on peut faire l'experience

d'un moment de bonheur, l'apprecier pleinement, mais il ne faut pas croire

cet etat immuable, il faut le poursuivre car il s'echappe au gres de nos

changements emotionels, de nos decouvertes, de notre curiosité qui crée de

nouvelles envies, de nouveau besoins. Le bonheur est un etat qui nous

appartient car c'est nous qui le produisont, et qui est different pour chaque

individu.

How many people own a universe as wide in stories, in ideas, in reflections and analysis as mine, and nevertheless am i not an interesting person?!

-----------------------

- "Yes, the objective is also to accept all the choices made by the other, that everyone is completely free, i'd like that someone wants to come back to me indefinitely, yeah i'd like that...
without she feels constrained or guilty, only because she wants it for herself and uniquely for herself.

Inconditional love.

And if she goes some other places to see some other people from time to time it's not a problem, i can't control it, but that i am someone important for her and when she's with me then she gives herself entirely, in her true personality.

Like this until the end.

I must be an absolute romantic, or a simple utopian, a dreamer."

-"All this is poetic, i think all you tell me deserve
to be written in a book."

-"And i know i'm able to share everything, all i am in my truth, to only one person. Thanks for your pretty compliment."

-"I'm sincere, i think all you said is so touching."

old song

Here i am again exciting my curiosity with a million subjects, people and ideas to check, i'm all over the place and my mind copes very well, it galvanizes me, it's my food on which i thrive, i have plans and when they answer me back i'm overwhelmed with electricity.
When i'm passionate i can't be betrayed by myself because i go toward the good willingly and knowingly.

I will learn to control those phases to be a happy and confident person.

There are so many norms i don't understand, so many things i don't want, so many opinions and behaviors i can't stand, that i have the impression i'm bound to live in a box, or worst to live only in my imagination, for now it's like this reality doesn't suit me, i can't feel good in the world i know around me because so many things are not up to my standards, so much is vile, stupid and cheap (here my distorted perception makes me think "begining by my body", though i'm aware it's only a conditioned thinking), because of that i can't have it as easy as others, i have to strive, scramble and fight heartily, earnestly to reach what i need.
There's one thing i can do to be fine, Living up to my own rules!, finding out the burrows where the smart people are hiding, as few as they can be, i must keep that hope and that i'll find my place aside some of them, in simple acceptance, in love, in trust, in communication, in sharing.
I'll hold on to my needs, what i want close to me, what i want to be part of the world i crave around me, what i believe, what i know that's good up to me, because i know, i know i have to trust myself to be able to trust what is good for me, to build up with others that world i will feel joy to live in!

Ideal is availlable for everyone, this knowledge must be shared, i'm not a dreamer, i'm a humanist, i want it for me first, because that's all i can control and act for, my own life, my own needs, then share it with others fitting my real self.

And all along, with you.