À toi qui arrive, Ô piètre voyageur
Pitre de façade, malheurs en profondeur
Toi qui t’embarques pour ces bien étranges rives
At first, she is scarred. She wears several necklaces, even a candy one which strangles her fragile skin. She wears sunglasses, big ones, like pretty much everyone here.
I have to say I am a bit mad. Okay, I’ll admit, I am so mad smoke is coming out of my nostrils. Peace off.
Claudia is sitting on the couch. At first, she is scared by my questions and answers with monosyllables. She doesn’t know it is like that for everyone I ask my questions to. Love is a lock and at first people are shying themselves from it.
Let’s push the doors of grocery consumerism. I like witnessing the experience, the image, the philosophy of the chain. I think of all those marketing teams discussing which message would seduce the consumer. Humanity is dissolved in the grand paradox of buying/selling shit: making you feel unique while spending $ on the exact same thing than everyone else.
Here we go.
Hey, you here. More excitment here
I have spent the last week wandering around and asking my three little questions.
I have done my deed of bad stuff in oder to get away with whatever bullshit I decided doing. Yes, I am borderline and addicted to addiction, so let me tell you going out with me can be quite the adventure. Inspired by the many life lessons I have gone through while invading dance-floors and douching it seriously up, I have a few advice on
When you dive into your own past, the bricks of memory lane fade as you go deeper into yourself.
Memories have their own light, and I know when an event has been stored within me as a thread of my past, because the images come back shinier, wet from this special sunshine of our unconscious.