Oh Sun! I hate you!
And not only because you're a God!

While musing

I had in mind, my crooked front teeth, brittle, scaling teeth, and also, the eyes of that girl, the eyes, the eyes, i've got something for the eyes, the unexpressive eyes, because it's not the eyes that display, and let us sense the emotions on a visage, it's the stretching, rolling, and creased flesh all around.
The eyes are like jewels, polished, cold and beautiful jewels, abstruse as galaxies, tainted marbles, mysterious puzzle of light and colors, eyes are nothing more than dull abstract beauty.

(ask me which eyes, in that dream it was those of beth thomas, the child of rage, set on the body of that luscious girl i knew, dreams make strange combinations, and one thought during the day made me remember it, "eyes are little and pretentious collectibles like that")

Stroll in faculty garden (Observation and Silly Rambling)

Teens are impressionable, their self esteem isn't formed, not strong enough, so when someone, maybe older, comes along and show some desire toward such fragile persons, many fall in the thinking of being special in that presence, ending up getting attached over that only reason.
To me it's more a proof of lack of personality, a proof of insecurity, the teen doesn't choose consciously and his ego needs the other to feel fine in himself (which is already paradoxical, to search self-confidence in the other, one should search in oneself, that is more sensible to me), without the other there's a missing or self-depreciation, this setting starts, in my opinion, an unhealthy relation based on a confusion of feelings, mixed with what is perceived of the other's talks and gestures, compliments or desires.

When someone is strong enough in his self confidence he is able to make a real choice of who he wants to frequent without being influenced, i could say manipulated, by the other's display, which can be faked or interested (through feelings and moves), and in the end it doesn't matter if the other is sincere or not, (we can never be sure about what is in the other's mind, but we can know our personal self for sure), because the awaken one will judge for himself what makes him feel good and will choose accurately to stay or leave at every moment, to meet or act whenever he really wants it and not for the purpose to get a deviant ego boost, which in the end will get stall, and will let a constant state of helplessness inside the needy person.
I think that's how a lot of girls gets fooled by an imposing presence, an image of the father or the professor. Males are more inclined to hide their needy behavior and turn to violence.

Grim (who's to blame)

I think i understand serial killers, and feel a kind of sympathy for most of them, evidently i don't side with their acts but i understand the undermining events and cogitations, along time, leading to those desperate and unconscious acts.

No other one

Did you ever have to turn your head far up to the corner,
until you tweak your neck,
pretend to be distrated,
to save your face,
while being openly insulted in the street,
if only your ears could be shut with tiny flaps,
on command.

In a moment of aggression,
being able to break down all senses instantly.

I'm asking,
did you ever have to pretend you were rightfully elsewhere
while a couple of persons were shouting at you coarse words,
but you even saw it coming,
from down the alley,
and you say to your pals,
which were walking that street with you
and thought to bring light on what happened

"Really! Did those suckers said that?!".

But with a false surprise,
pretending to be strong,
inside,
that if you had heard
you would have saved your integrity as a human being
in a dignified way.

But the words,
and the laughters,
hit you under the sight of all.

And alcool,
and youth,
isn't an excuse.

In that moment you attempt to ignore you were stoned,
tied
at a stake of undisguised truth,
right in the heart of your humanity.

I'm begining to question
who's wrong
and who's right,
who belongs where,
and who doesn't belong anywhere,
this is not an accident,
and pretending i could exist,
more than anything,
makes me want to cry.

Disapear.

To put things how it must be,
all in the right order.

Listen (fishermen's tale)

I'm a woman. I go to that dance class every thursday. I'm amongst familiar faces. I say hello to all when i arrive. I've talked and know a little part of everyone's story. Each male member made me dance at least once. And there is that man. He's not unforgetable. Nor pretty, nor talented. But he is smiling and polite in my presence. He innocently proposes me to dance, regularly. He sometimes speaks veiled compliments to me. We're not intimate, he's just a man from the dance class. Amongst others.
There is that day. It's late in the night, the class is over. A small bunch of us is waiting in front of the porch. That man is here too. The wind blows, i'm cold. I'm watching around, i could do with a little comfort. A soft piece of affection. Human warmth, in the end of that tiring day. I focus on that man. I'm getting closer, by little steps. I smile sadly, and jokingly say : "I'm a bit cold". He opens his arms timidly. And i wrap myself, encompassing him with my own. On that moment i feel safe. I needed that. Behind me another man gets close. He brags vulgarly and giggles at me : "Hey! Me too i could do with some comfort, don't you want to snuggle up against my chest too". That second man has his charms. I observed he was a good dancer. But He never watched me dance or said hello with envy. I'm thinking : "You can shoot around buddy, you'll never catch me". I'm for the fisherman.

Observing my own evolution

And i send you back to all those songs

Like silent calls to no one

I answered them all!

Not solved them,

but presented my honest and disposable self.

I'm proud i'm smiling now.