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Conjure by writing it down.
With words, Seal the evil inside.
French, Londoner, Male. This is my writing blog.

As a cloud of starlings, my memories

éparpilles moi,

rends moi fou.

Fou moi le feu.

Envois moi en enfer,

si tu le peux.

Fais le pour moi,

renvois y moi.

Détruis mes restes d’espoir.

fais moi voir ce dont le futur est fait.

fais moi désespérer,

fais moi désespérer,

fais moi désespérer.

Car si pas maintenant,

je crains que tu ne le puisses,

plus jamais.


De l’acier dans le dos,

tu gêneras moins,

La lame de mon couteau,

te soignera bien.

THE ROVER (2014)

This movie was so casually, frontally, honestly sad.

on an other note, I hope my neighbour gets stabbed in the abdomen real bad several times and that she agonises for a VERY VERY VERY long time laying on her cheap carpet like floor for all those evenings of mine that she ruins blasting her cheap ghetto bang bang like music all over my place like it’s fucking disneyland.

(Thank you Anon for the tip about gif size)

(Thank you Anon for the tip about gif size)

Anonyme a dit: the gif is too big

Oooh I see! :o Thank you Anon!

I made a gif that animates properly on my laptop, even when I’m creating the tumblr post for it, but once posted it just freezes ??

Les vitraux

I have bits of it.
Don’t really know where it goes.
Pieces after pieces.
Can’t see the end of it,
Nor its beginning.
It is all so dispersed.
Like this day,
When you broke the church’s window.
Edges after edges.
Cut after cut.
And I finally understood,
And accepted,
That breaking feels so much better
Than building.


T’as pas déjà à m’être utile, les amis ne sont pas des objets !”

Then what am I supposed to be? What is the box I’m supposed to fit in?


"nobody on the fucking store"

"nobody on the fucking store"

Près de la rivière, tu n’iras plus.

I can feel it again.

The thing inside.

It comes back, at times.

Fall asleep for a while…but, oh, so easy to wake up.

I can feel, it has awoken, again.

Bitting and clawing its way out.

So enragedly trying to leave the chains,

of my entrails.

And I don’t know anymore, what is the best.

When it sleeps so tight, so profoundly, that it nearly dies.

Or when it craves, rampages inside, for destruction.

Longs for all the wrong it could cause.


Sometimes, I wonder…

what if I’d let it out?

How bad could that be…?

Ce que tu as trouvé, sous la pierre, près de la rivière.

Everyone I know, no matter who I’m looking at,

Everyone I know expect something from me.

Whether they need me to handle my life,

Whether they need me to force my destiny

Whether they need me to disappear, to get out of their way.

Everyone whose face I recognize as familiar,

Every single person I know,

Everyone I know, expect me to change. To be, different.

It’s in their eyes, when they look at me.

Whether it’s with pity, because they think they know about me.

Whether it’s with judgement, because they think I don’t worth it.

Whether it’s with amusement, because I’m a living reminder that their

life is not that bad.

Everyone I know, those faces,

Those persons I should be calling friend, and talking openly to.

All of them, expect me to change.

To lose. Kneel. Surrender.  


It’s in their eyes, when they look at me.

It’s in their voice, when they pretend we’re something to each other.


And I’m this close to give up. Give up for good.

I am so close to give up. Change. Lose it all, and become

Something I’m not. Become that thing they need me to be.

I’m this close to turn into something so bad, something so wrong,

They’ll come to regret all these times they look down on me.

They’ll regret it…For ever.