Monthly archive November, 2001

At the Window | A la Fenetre

“I have not always had this certainty, this pessimism which reassures the best among us. There was a time when my friends laughed at me. I was not the master of my words. A certain indifference. I have not always known well what I wanted to say, but most often it was because i had...

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Okay

My Father says Okay when he’s too bored to comment or answer your questions. This morning I asked him if he had keys to the house. “Okay,” was his answer. “Okay. Bye!” I said.

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You forget

You forget that I’m also just a girl too, you know

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Souterrain

photo here

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The world’s seams

My life, so far, is written on flat surfaces that can absorb ink or lead. This is what I realised, going through pieces of paper covered with my handwriting, and as usual, not being able to throw anything away. At the back of receipts. At the back of smudge-inked photographs. Old journals. On book margins....

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If I died it would be a shame

because i love walking in the air so much and killing ideals of people so much because i still don’t know if I’m alive or if im just a concept of time or if i focused too much on the fucked-up state of life maybe if i died now it would be a shame because...

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