Parisian streets

Filled with stories, with tears and joy, with unspoken wishes.

These are my green lights, my squared stones, my roads to myself and to the world.

Each day, a new street awaits while the known ones seem to caress me. Each night, these quiet and noisy streets converge into one amazing journey...

Speed

There are moments in life when everything seems to run so fast that your head spins. New friends, new projects, new city, a new you. Not sure if there's an improved version of you, but definitely a different one. Somehow more mature, more focused but also more adventurous.

It's like you could take a trip to the Moon while visiting a XVth century castle and stopping by a XIXth century store. Like everything is possible. And yet you fail to let yourself dream because responsibilities could come along.

I will turn 23 pretty soon. And it makes me ... dizzy.

2012 wishes

It does seem I neglected my own blog... but I was concentrating on my real life, writing in a real diary.

Nonetheless, since 2012 has just begun, it's the right time to restart writing, sharing feelings and projects... For the time being, I can only wish for sunny days, poems to be read, streets to be discovered, kisses to be given and dreams to be fulfilled.

Question mark

Do you ever wonder what it would be like if...? Deciding what to wear, where to go, what to say, when to do it seems a bit overwhelming. Actually, we can never be sure that was the right thing for us... Would it have made any difference wearing blue instead of purple? going right instead of left? opening the shiny door instead of an old one? being here instead of somewhere else? loving...?

Si tu veux nous nous aimerons (Mallarmé)

Si tu veux nous nous aimerons
Avec tes lèvres sans le dire
Cette rose ne l'interromps
Qu'à verser un silence pire

Jamais de chants ne lancent prompts
Le scintillement du sourire
Si tu veux nous nous aimerons
Avec tes lèvres sans le dire

Muet muet entre les ronds
Sylphe dans la pourpre d'empire
Un baiser flambant se déchire
Jusqu'aux pointes des ailerons
Si tu veux nous nous aimerons.

Baudelairian (Ciel brouillé)

On dirait ton regard d'une vapeur couvert ;

Ton œil mystérieux, — est-il bleu, gris ou vert ? —
Alternativement tendre, doux et cruel,
Réfléchit l'indolence et la pâleur du ciel.


Tu rappelles ces jours blancs, tièdes et voilés,
Qui font se fondre en pleurs les cœurs ensorcelés,
Quand, agités d'un mal inconnu qui les tord,
Les nerfs trop éveillés raillent l'esprit qui dort.



Tu ressembles parfois à ces beaux horizons
Qu'allument les soleils des brumeuses saisons ;
— Comme tu resplendis, paysage mouillé
Qu'enflamment les rayons tombant d'un ciel brouillé !


O femme dangereuse ! ô séduisants climats !
Adorerai-je aussi ta neige et vos frimas,
Et saurai-je tirer de l'implacable hiver
Des plaisirs plus aigus que la glace et le fer ?

...?

Peut-etre pas en rose... Au moins, c'est pas en noir!