Tout est question de sémiose, petit Arlequin.

Samedi 21 janvier 2012 à 2:59


And I don't understand anything cause I'm stupid. Don't ask, just don't ask! To sit on a pink sofa. In a old market. Question. Butch, femme, this kind of slang. Choice. CHOICE. CHOICE. Am I wrong? Is it just an appeal? I am fucking lost. Fucking lost. Doublé chuchoté. When I see them, my head turn out. Spliff. Why I haven't rolled? Forget these bollocks and your angryness. You failed. Again, AGAIN? Better? I hate winter. In a manner of speaking, new wave. Everything's right. My brain is off, my eyes opened. My body and my instinct want a girl. A GIRL.

HALEIGGLCECKUEEGQKEFC and I'm becoming mad because of for where why I fuck ponctuation I fucking don't care and stop watching on me like a burned synagogue threesome no way what wah how how how explain me please please please to meet you have a fucking beautiful face and you drive me crazy crazy FFS what's thaAAAAaaat fuck hormones buy dildos play me hard and putain de ta mère vas-dis moi où trouver ça ça ça pour je sais pas je prends le risque de tout détruire tout détruire encore et encore parce que je ne sais faire que ça. Mais tu te rends compte dans l'état das lequel tu te mets pour des meufs ? Des meufs, quoi ! De quoi te détruire la gueule.

Mais rhaaaaaaAAAA. Etre délibérément hétéro, c'est tellement confortable. Ma cervelle se traine dans la boue en hésitant. Mais qu'est ce que tu fous, t'as 20 piges, c'est le moment de vivre ta vie, de te taper des trips, de partir loin, d'aller de l'avant, de tester tout et n'importe quoi. D'être complètement mad, d'acquérir de l'expérience, de faire des rencontres, de baiser. BAISER LA VIE. Tout ne tient qu'à un putain de fil. J'ai même pas le cran d'ouvrir un tiroir pour prendre une paire de ciseaux. Mais bordel. Dieu que je me hais. 

And to talk about is not enought Kochanie. I don't care about porn, I don't care about hentaï or bdsm. I don't care, let's be an open couple. Trust us, fuck these stupid rules, fuck who you want, I fucking need a girl. And you can smile, that's just killing me. Is there anyone able to understand me? Come back Chou, don't be shy and let's have fun in a bed. Benefits. It doesn't matter. 

PUTAIN, je deviens désespérément folle. Une ado, une putain d'ado. 


Samedi 14 janvier 2012 à 12:38

And black stuffs. Just need my piano and cry on it after a strong splif. Sometimes, that's all I need. No reason. Do you realise how much I miss it and how I am becoming MAD without? MADAME MAD.  MADM MD AM mmm. You see? To disconnect. For nothing.

Pusillanimous, chimeric, decemvirs & metempsychosis. Useless translations. Sade, isn'it? The Marquis in the maquis is an anarchronism. HAHA. 

Samedi 14 janvier 2012 à 0:19


I jumped over the mirror. I'd seen my reflection winking the crack in the dark. Have a look on the book. Sooth smooth smoke shut up my shot mouth. My 1001st personnality answered by a creamy stream of screams. Broahahaha, don't want to see none of them. At the end, flowing in that foul fuel.
I wanna die right now. Cause I can't listen those extravagances anymore and not able to write that I can't say. Poor littlecuteanddangerous you, the only thing to to relieve you is taking a gum and chewing. So miserably, fees of tiny thin fun. 


Jeudi 5 janvier 2012 à 1:53


Lost catalyst. Broken, une bobine. Blur, in the dark, dirty glasses. Raining mind. Spared thoughs in the windy drops. Angry sky, hungry questionnement. Starving of answers. Tesla coil, transformed energy. Pampered on a sofa, walking on my back. Rolling like a square. Energy in the teeth. Could you run in the 4th dimension without feeling the waves of nodes? Not able to assemble two words together. Finding the end in the filter of your inexisting coffee machine. In your neck are hidden too much barbed wires. 


Mercredi 4 janvier 2012 à 12:00


Silly to assess a year. Anyway, nearly the anniversary of the leaving, coming. Depends of your point of view. Relief? Comfort? Notions quite hard to tell apart actually. Discovering. Living, not thinking and being egoist. Just HUUUGE change. Lost yourself a bit more to find the way. Crazy way, let your mouth opened and not contain your fury anymore. That's new. You came blank as a virgin and now? Now look at you, you look like Dorian Gray. Let's paint. Let people make an image of you, who cares who you are, when even you don't know it anymore?- and say what you fucking think when necessary. 24 years of silent rebellion, THAT has been crazy. Incredible, stupide. To live in the frustration of your "unspokeness". Smiling face, being nice, helpfull, kind. GNAGNAGNA. BLABLA. I am, I wanna be. A bitch. Tick the right answer.   

Anyway, everything is revolved. I probably needed a cut, an abrupt change. To advance and assert myself, even if I hate these fit of temper, anger and other words finishing by -er.  I make me laught in front of the confusion, moody and impulsive. And I hate myelf. Action vs reaction. Intolerance, and lack of understanding, impatience. I'm becoming exactly that I hate in human race. But I feel better.

Ass kicker, he said.
My pleasure, I answered. 

Should be wrong to say "I'm not a fucking sucker" Cause NO NO NO. Nice pear, pice near or whatever. STUPID. Anyway, smile and enjoy. Fantastic weekend, surprising, high. Realized who are your friends and who are "less". Change of depth. Sad but true. So immature observation. Can't say I've been waiting for another answer, cause everyone is always alone in this monumental slapstick comedy. AloneandaloneandaloneandaloneAND ALONE. Impossible to talk about essential things. Have to cure it, becoming a real problem. Or not. Actually, if you face to the reality, nothing's changed. You're still a pawn on a chessboard.  Second line fucking you, hierarchy, dry. You're still doing nothing, you're still shuting up. Contrast and paradoxe. I'm everyting and nothing, so wrong and grapoeibcqjqd. It looks so negative, but I feel so good! SO GOOD! I got you. Pampampam 

Even so, I should be careful. Bitter review stating that lots of foods disappeared of my life and portions increased. Cause of aliments, money, brain, lazyness? JUNKFOOD. Nevermind, now I've some HNY postcards waiting to be written. 


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