Une fois encore chambouler les préjustifés, préjudiciables, préjugeotes.
Ce n'est pas compter mais donner, donner,
donner.

Octobre - Francis Cabrel

"She was real, and you could feel it with every nerve in your body."

Tales

Like in the olden days of Knights and Ladies
Plights and stories
Flights of fancy
Fights and fury
Nights of glory.

La monture - Julie Zenatti

Stepped out of the party. Streets below.
The red ember of your cigarette drew shapes hanging in the night.
The air was cold . Filled with clichés. I pointed out : "stars". "indeed." Our breaths lingered for a while.

I breathed in the scent of smoke.

Dance - Lady Gaga

I should come with a warning:
"I hurt people".

Sleep - The Dandy Warhols

Hungover

Que l'ouïe, l'odorat, la vision prennent le dessus.
Que se perde l'esprit dans la fragrance indienne.
Que s'évanouisse.

We waited for the rollercoaster with growing excitement.
And when fear took over we were pinned to the seats.
Adrenalin rush. Speed tears.
Now to prolong the aftermath.

They weren't there - Missy Higgins

Even the devil wouldn't recognize you.
(I do)

They say cats can wait for hours without twitching a muscle.
Like sphinxes they know time'll pass and all riddles'll come clear.

So I'll sit through the night and watch the silent unmoving dark.
Stare with songs in my head at the map of all stars and wait for the pattern to have been there all along.
I'll unravel the scarves around my neck and lay them down like sleeping question marks.

They say cats can wait for hours without twitching a muscle.
So'll I.

They weren't there - Missy Higgins

Roads

A characteristic of Indian writers is to see structures in the shape of the world, and find meaning where others see chance.
Rushdie and Roy have left this imprint in me - an eye for reccurency, a deep faith in cycles. But all hints to the meaning stay few and far apart.

Vanilla scent. Blue paper goose. Radar alert. And now those markings on the wall.


Who are we kidding?

Meme la musique s'écoute en boucle.
Circles - circles - I think I really like circles...

They weren't there - Missy Higgins

eyeroll

Grad school is so overrated.
I'm back in middle school , lost in a maze of booze, coolness and hype.
But this time I'll befriend the losers with high held head.

I need some time aside. Feels like weeks since I've seen anyone or walked across the heart of Paris. I need some time to come back.
And decide what this year's gonna look like.

One T - The magic Key