I take
deep breaths and enjoy the silence while
the clock ticks and knocks at
my thoughts beating against my brain! It's
a snake-like thing that drags me down... But no 'nos'!
Only 'yes' and steps forward... [...] The pirate inside
o' me is already drunk and eager to some more!
More & MORE! Life's so great when you get to write it down,
when you drag Bad and Evil down with your head held high!
I run naked in the forest, looking for
the treasure of life. I run and shine like a sun.
The moon is jealous of this free state
ofmind of mine. I laugh at her. I tell her that we simply look
like each other. I run and turn into the sun and she runs after the
sun and gets her whiteness from the dim ray of lights she
oversees. I cheer up the moon and the moon thanks me.
I gave and got the joy of the moon in return.
I’m blessed. Lifegoes on for anyone, anything… My
clock stopped ticking. Space and
timesuddenly froze around me. I touch the sky and
kiss the rain. I smilerainbows and keep running. My
heart shines like it never did. I am love. I am universal.
I stop and sit and contemplate the calm water of a pond.
Aleaf flies to the gentle wind and slowly lays on
the water creating soft andpeaceful circles.
The miracle of life is happening right before my eyes.
Mysoul whispers words of truth and I listen to them. I
close my eyes and stretch out my arms. I offer myself to
the world. My mind, this quiet little place, is ready for
the beauty of life. My heart is pure and
my heartbeatsgolden. I cling to the grass and feel
it. Feel it. It’s fresh and my throat, dry
and shy, murmurs that it’d love
to kiss the pond and drink it until the
very last drop. The water in the air.
The water of the grass that I touch.
Thewater of the pond. The remedy against water is
even more water. So I diveinto the pond.
The water below me. The water above me.
The water inside me… I am the water. I feel life.
I can hear the dim roar of the rays of sun crashing on
the surface of water. It is incredible what
the mind can experience. The body is getting
bored. We go back on the shore and sit up
to contemplate this view. My body stands up
and it starts dancing. My arms, so soft, so loose and
my soul so flexible. I dance.
I feel the Earth every time I put one foot on
the ground. I feel the speed of the world spinning
round. I feel the wind of the universe kissing me
on the cheeks. My joy is complete.Extremes meet
in the middle.
'Reversed brainwaves and drum-beat shaped hearts roaring through the disheveled skull powder of eternity in space and typed dashed super 8 collages of lost memories. The fall is alright! The rise will glow! And hearts will shine like sun string rays looming over the crown of the Moon Ashtray.'
February 17, 2013
shut your whole body down
There is a chill in
the air that
keeps whispering
to me,
petting my hair
gently, running down
my spine to burst in
my pants.
The kind of chill that
cools and
shut your whole body
down.
It's you facing your own
death
and letting go your
utopian
connection to the
universe.
You are nothing but a
tiny bubbling pale spark of light.
Popping your way out in
the cosmos,
you find your place in
the emptiness of time
and space to settle down
and cry with joy.
Oh victory! Oh glorious
day! I made it! I made it OUT!
I have no fear now.
A veil shrouds your eyes,
catching a spell on your
consciousness
– no memories left
behind.
Pure annihilation that
finally out of breath
let it out and
spat it out and
vomited its true wild
unfixed uncharged mysteries and
dreams like nightmares
and
nightmares like dreams in
daylight bursting into
flames of powerful rage
and
a destructive middle
finger.
The day Dijon was wiped off the map
Taking
shelter on campus
They
said the city had to be put in quarantine. The authorities would not
let any one in or out. The first week Dijon started to be wiped off
the map, everybody called their families to ask them how it was like
outside the city and they said that the government decided to build
up walls to isolate the area without going into details. Every body
was scared. Riots started raging downtown. I lived near Place Darcy,
which was inconvenient for most of the population moved up to the
heights of Talant to have a clear view of what was going on as well
as to avoid the chaos roaring downtown. Some said the scenery looked
like one of a science-fiction movie. It was uncanny. The Paris-bound
down on the A38 was congested with dump trucks loading huge piles of
earth and concrete so that no car could get on or off the highway.
They closed all the roads linked to the city as well. People were all
over their computers and phones, trying to get some help from the
outside. The walls reached such heights that it became harder and
harder for people to observe what was happening at the doors of the
city. People disappeared. Some said as they came from what they
called the “inner wall” that authorities were setting up fires
all around the city to persuade the population not to try to get
through the barrages. Some others said that those whom nothing could
dissuade them never returned. We were trapped and from were I lived I
was literally stuck between two threats – riots got even worst
downtown and the deranging silence from the A38 highway up to Talant
worried people so much that everywhere you could see men, women, old
people breaking down in the streets, hysterical, sometimes naked and
lost children crying, looking for their families. The population got
insane. Dijon turned to a block of despair where chaos ruled over
everything leaving nothing in the streets to enjoy but fear. Gangs
were squatting strategic points such as the Theater or churches from
where they could easily get to the food rationing containers dropped
from helicopters every week.
I
stayed home for one week with all of the shutters of my apartment
closed. I got to hear from a few friends whom we agreed with to meet
up on campus where it was said to be safe. I barely slept at nights
so I decided to pack and leave my building to find my friends. I had
decided to take a long detour to avoid the gangs. It took me an hour
and a half to get from Rue Devosge down to Boulevard Strasbourg ; I
avoided avenues and preferred narrow streets and made it to Place du
30 Octobre safely. As I walked up the hill on Boulevard Strasbourg, I
realized I had to get around the hospital where there would probably
be a hypothetical concentration of horror scenes and crazy people
trying to steal drugs from the storage. Better be paranoid than in
danger. Psychoanalysis is not worth being put away in books. I chose
to live it. It was impossible to get any pieces of information from
anyone. Most of my friends texted me, telling that they had lost
contact with most of our friends and acquaintances. Edouard said he
went outside twice the first week they decided to put Dijon in
quarantine to get some food and he got into a fight he managed to run
away from. I was about to get to his apartment, texted him, asked him
if he were still there. No answer. I had to hurry. It was almost
sunset. I walked up Rue du Point du Jour, then Rue Henri Joly and all
the way up Rue des Planchettes. The scenery was hard to believe. The
whole place looked like a ghost town. Down the avenue, ashes were
fuming where you would expect to see huge amphitheaters and half of
the main building facade fell down on the grass and trees and cars. I
could feel my whole body shaking and my blood boiling. What happened
there? Who did this? There was no way gangs could have done such a
thing. My phone broke the silence. I almost had a heart attack. I
answered. 'JM! Run! There are people coming in your direction!
RUN!!!' 'Where are you?' 'RUN!!! TO THE GROUND FLOOR!!! NOW!!!' I ran
across the avenue as fast as I could and then stopped abruptly. They
were here. My friends. Edouard held me in his arms so tight that it
hurt. I was speechless. What the hell happened here? Why were they
all here? There were chairs and tables everywhere. Some were thrown
randomly in front of the doors while others were piled up looking
like barricades. Elsa gave me a cup of coffee. Tatiana was sitting on
the floor staring at her phone. Florian did not turn his head from
his computer. Agathe was fixing a radio. She looked up and smiled.
'We're glad you made it.' 'When did you guys arrive?' I looked
around. There were blankets on the floor. Sleeping bags. A kettle.
Bowls. Spoons. A knife. A bat. Edouard looked at me and asked me if
the group of people he saw followed me. 'I don't think so.' 'How are
you?' 'Feeling much better now. I'm glad I can finally see you guys.
Downtown, it is so silent that it freaks me out. I don't know where
they all left.' 'We heard that they built up more walls to close all
the gates around the inner wall. It seems they only left the one
located in Lac Kir open.' 'So do you think we're safe here?' 'It's
better than downtown and there's a lot of spots where we can hide in
case...' He voice shook and he started crying. 'I'm sorry. I haven't
slept in days. I can't help it.' 'Don't worry man. We're all here.'
'No we're not,' said Tatiana. Everybody looked at her. Florian
stopped typing on his laptop. 'We know Tatiana. But don't worry. I'm
sure they're fine.' said Elsa, trying to be as reassuring as
possible. 'I meant, at least, we're together.' Edouard put his arm
around me and pulled me aside. We went upstairs and sat in an
amphitheater.
They
have been here for a few days already and Edouard mentioned scary
screams that they can hear at night. He barely closed his eyes and
spoke quickly. He surely seemed exhausted and stressed out. I asked
him if the gangs made it this far for they only have interest in
controlling the food rationing. He said that they never showed up
here but that we had to leave this place and find a better shelter
anyway. They were here two nights ago when the facade of the building
fell. He said there was an explosion and that they could hear planes
patrolling over the area. They still did not know why they stroke
only once but he assumed that the rest of the population outside the
walls knew more and disapproved of such a move from the government.
He mentioned Tatiana's state of panic and told me what her family
said. Apparently, the government justified the quarantine for there
were high risks of a rare infectious disease reported by the hospital
a few weeks ago. They said people were dying here. They said that the
government decided to destroy the whole city. We went back
downstairs. Elsa was holding Tatiana in her arms. They were sobbing.
I could not believe my eyes. I never would have guessed that such a
thing would happen to us. And what was that so-called infectious
disease anyway?
It
was getting late and Florian and the others already fell asleep.
Agathe, Edouard and I decided to stay up all night. 'Do you think
it's gonna happen again?' asked Agathe. 'I don't know,' said Edouard
'But we have to be careful. I don't know what this so-called disease
is and I don't get it. Why would they keep it secret from the public?
Why can't they simply send people to check up on us?' We were tired.
Agathe dozed off. Edouard could hardly keep eyes open. It all became
so silent when I could hear a crack coming from the end of the
hallway. I panicked. I did not want to wake the others. There was
another noise coming from the same direction. Was anyone trying to
break in? It was pitch dark in here. I decided to go and check this
out. The doors were closed but I could feel a cool draft coming from
the back. I stopped and looked up and turned around. Suddenly, I
could hear someone grunting right behind me. 'JM?' Edouard's voice
echoed from the other end of the hallway. 'I'm here!' I turned around
and a hand grabbed me, pulling me down. I screamed and all of a
sudden, Edouard, Agathe and the others appeared in the hallway
pointing their flashlights in my direction. A body was scratching my
face and biting my neck. I could hear my friends shout out my name
while my vision blurred and my mouth tasted like blood.
Chapitre Premier
Touch
the sun and kiss the rain
It
was about midnight when I entered the Sé Bar. As usual I would order
a pint of white beer and sit at one end of the counter. I always sat
right next to the entrance from where I expected the same young man
to spend the night a couple of sits further. The first time I saw him
I remembered he was smoking outside. His 'rollies' as he called them
made perfect circles as he smoked. I was sitting inside, observing
this strange looking guy asking for a cigarette to whoever he was. He
entered and ordered a couple of drinks. As the night went on, he kept
on drinking cheap rum and started smiling like a child and took a
pencil out of his backpack and wrote on a napkin. He stared outside
the window pane and contemplated the rain that started pouring on
Emile Zola square. That night I waited for him to leave the bar and
took the napkin he wrote on after he looked at the rain. This is how
I knew who he was. His note said : Touch
the sun and kiss the rain.
He was alone. I felt funny for a moment because I started smiling the
same way the young man did. I kept on seeing him at the Sé Bar and
after the departure of the lonely poet, I would take his napkins that
he left for dead on the counter. I wondered how he felt when he
abandoned those notes. I decided to keep all of them. There was no
reason for this young man to write without being read. Reading is a
passion. Each word coming out of the unknown is a bracelet one wears
in secret. Everybody has a secret. I read the notes that this young
man left every night after each rendez-vous. One
night, he left a note that said
'Do you like what I write?'.
The world started to spin faster and faster. I almost fell from my
stool. My soul started to distort itself and my body felt so heavy. I
felt guilty but happy at the same time. I hate asking stupid
questions to myself. My body speaks for me. I ordered one last drink
and walked all night long. I could not help but think about him all
the time. It felt like this other guy suddenly attracted me. I looked
at my own reflection passing by the shop window of a bakery. Was I
smart-looking enough to get to speak to this unknown and strange
person? I stopped in the middle of the crossroads in front of the
theater and laughed. Who was I to think that his note was addressed
to me? The week after, I ordered my third pint feeling my throat
twisting inside as if my soul wanted to cry. He was not coming this
night. A hand of rain pounded its knuckles hard against the
cobblestones of the square. I left the Sé Bar and started walking
home. The sky soaked in the Earth which swallowed my soul. I was
about to open the front door of my building when I heard 'Hello?' My
blood ran once through all my veins. Shaking, I turned around and
there he was. 'How are you?' he asked.
*
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Lost
in syntax
The
sun pierced through the shutters and a thin ray cheered up my face. I
opened my eyes cautiously as I remembered what happened the night
before. I felt a faint as sat up on my bed. Time froze for a moment
and my heart felt like it was about to tear my chest apart and break
free. I remembered. A strange 'hello' echoed and I remembered. The Sé
Bar. The rain. There was a face. I smiled. Where was the rest of it ?
I took a shower and remembered. K. something. We smoked weed all
night long and talked. What did we talk about ? I drank my tea and
remembered. We had sex. I remembered we talked all night long. I
remembered the ecstasy. I was walking home and he was following me.
We laughed when he told me he saw me laughing in front of the
theater. I felt so stupid and then he kissed me. He said he felt
lonely. I said I needed a little company. We had sex.
I
left my apartment and on the door there was a note. I started to cry.
I felt so terrible for those words were not for me. Could this
scattered memory of mine deny the wonderful night we spent. I could
not even remember his name. Those words. This unknown handwriting.
What did I say or do that could leave such an impression on this
stranger's mind ?
I
have a smile curled up on my back. I can feel its gentle breathe. It
tickles. I tremble with pleasure. I have a smile in my bed. I tornado
it in my arms. It happinesses me. I miss it. I love it when its lips
break through. It earlobes me and I belly it. We for-some-timed
ourselves. I want it eternity. I pagan it . It divines me. I bird it.
It flies me. It wings me, I angel it. It smiles to me and I gentle
kiss it. I shyly breeze it. It hurricanes me. I miss it. I praise it.
It heartbeats me. I heart-attacked it. It mouth-to-mouth me. I kissed
him.
We fire!
Karl.
His name was Karl.
*
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Oh
victory !
I
spent the morning in my apartment trying to realize what this feeling
was. I was jet-lagged with my body and soul. I could not find the
balance and could not stand it any longer. So I went outside again.
It was sunny and the world seemed at peace. An old lady smiled,
walking her dog. The dog smiled to the old lady. I smiled and felt
lucky to be such a privileged witness. Life was good outside. I spent
most of the afternoon at a café, drinking wine and eating a sandwich
for both my lunch and dinner. I read the rage of Arthur's bittersweet
poetry. I felt like this day was kind to me. The sun slowly went down
and the shadow of François Rude square spread its chilly gentle
breeze over the fountain, forcing its statue to sleep. Then came a
strange sensation. A smack in the face. A violent outburst. Where
should I go then ? I stopped thinking for my feet already knew where
to go. I could not keep on hiding inside and the sweetness of this
day for sure was foreshadowing the end of it. Karl was waiting for
me. On my way to the Sé Bar, I closed my eyes for a little while and
tried to picture the best place to be.
My
eyes fixed the sky and it felt nice. The dark blue of what is bigger
than what a soul could dive in cheered up the wind. My soul so big.
My needs so pure. My smile bigger than this universea.
Every single invisible footstep I made wondered how it felt like
being as high as the clouds and I finally understood. Wisdom and
peace of mind were both where extremes meet. In the middle. In
between. A perfect harmony balanced between the ground and the sky. I
opened my eyes and stared at what was in between. Nothing. Absolutely
nothing. No matter how hard the rain might pour. It would never fill
up what is in between – the safe zone of the soul. Oh my soul! You
are flying where your feet cannot walk. Oh my body! You are resting
under a tree, watching bees and butterflies fighting for daisies.
Your smile and your existence in between proves once more that even
what can fly struggles for freedom. Oh victory! I found it! My peace
of mind! Oh victory! My body now gazes at my soul bigger than the sky
embracing the Earth, stretching, kissing the sky. Somewhere in Dijon,
someone finally felt peaceful. I opened my eyes in front of the Sé
Bar and there he was.
*
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Not
really, no.”
He
smiled and kissed me on the cheek. 'How are you man?' he asked. All
my fears vanished. I switched off my emotions, ready to face the
stranger named Karl. 'I'm fine. How about you?' And it went on and on
for a couple of hours. He told me how handsome I looked and I told
him how beautifully he writes. When I asked him 'How do you write?',
he simply answered 'Sometimes, I just can't help but express how I
feel and shit. I just put it down on paper and let it go.' I remained
silent for a short while and then he asked me 'Do you write?'. He
ordered two pints of white beers .Me 'Only in my head. I cannot find
a way to put down words on the paper.'
'Have
you tried?' he asked. Me 'Not really, no.'
'How
do you know then?'
'Dunno.
I feel like I can't express words properly on the paper.'
'Take
this.' He handed a pen he took from his backpack. 'Could we have a
napkin please?' he asked to the waitress. 'And there you go! What's
in your mind. Be honest like you were yesterday.'
'About
that. I'm afraid I passed out the other night. I'm sorry for what I
did.'
'You're
sorry for what you did, huh?' he looked funny for he smiled but when
he answered he was somehow serious. 'Well I guess we smoked way too
much. I should be the one to feel sorry. I literally followed you
until you were home. In my defense, I was drunk and the waitress told
me you were taking my napkins and that you read them. I guess I was
curious. That's all. So there's no need for you to apologize or
whatever.'
'Ok.
I guess you're right.' Then he laughed and went on. 'So. What's on
your mind.'
'No
don't do that. I don't know how to write.'
'Oh
shut up! You know how to write. You just don't know what to write
about.'
'That's
the problem. What do you want me to write about?'
'Anything.
Absolutely anything! One day I wrote about a goldfish that committed
suicide.'
'You're
kidding!'
'No!
Its name was George.'
'George
the Goldfish?'
'That's
right! Now stop asking questions you already know the answer and tell
me what you want to write about.'
'I
really don't know. Maybe not tonight. I'm still tired from last
night.'
'Yes
you are.'
'I'm
not joking. I feel more like walking home.'
'Oh
I see. I'm sorry if I'm bothering you.'
'No
you're not; It's just that I really am tired and I don't feel like
being out tonight. I should go home. I spent the whole day at a
café.'
'What
did you do?'
'I
read poetry and then I came here.'
'I
see... well do you want me to come over your place? We may talk for a
while and then I'll leave you alone.'
'Or
we can do that too. I don't feel like sitting here all night.'
'Shall
we go ? Beers are on me. I insist. It's my way to apologize for
following you last night.' I laughed. He paid and then we went out.
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