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2009 12:56

Remember last year





I had not known my name.
I knew nothing of those around me.
One night in late summer. A
besieged apartment.
The taste of whiskey in your mouth My brain whirled
in a sea of cocaine torpid
I was single.
My heart was lost in a land Germanic
And I did that for only memories
The empty promises of an unlikely stranger
A quick kiss and seasoned.
I desire a fruitful meeting new
to absolve abrasions of love
In a new love and Paris.
You had eyes the color pool
And I knew the immeasurable absurdity
In the evening
That would be you.

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I stayed there.
Assisi.
It was late.
Maybe too late.
But I had nothing to fuck.
My body told me to wait.
Wait a minute.
more minute.
Just a minute.
I had hoped that everything is different this night.
I put my best dress.

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minutes of the board meeting of January 8:
Bruno our mascot, the nickname given by Hervé Nontron camping in the Dordogne, is not renewing its membership in the club, we wish him safe journey and hope to cross.
- Christmas dinner, 9 January: 16 hours of preparation room and meals
- weekend of Pentecost 2010: some proposals for three days, so a meeting is scheduled for select committee to discuss three days
- upcoming rides: no tours scheduled for the moment, because with the weather it is not possible to predict the outputs.
- next board meeting: Friday, February 5, 2010 in Juju (weekend of Pentecost: the choice of destination tour in September: 2011)

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I had a fur coat of a bitch.

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NARRATION nf 1. Story of an event, a series of facts 2. Academic exercise editorial

He wore a plaid cardigan, skinny jeans and Crude Repetto white, he was a singer of a group Shabby rock, he found me suspicious.
I thought interesting, with verve pedantic, his young voice husky poet cardboard, I was probably too abused vodka.
I had found in an apartment fundamentally rotten, decrepit, the kind that I found cool in 15 years, vinyls embedded everywhere, where there is room, a mattress on the floor worn sheets questionable, a kitchen with tons of disgusting stuff stacked.
It certainly reminded me when I lived in the 15th when I kissed with Jean-Emmanuel, except that the neighborhood was more expensive than books graphic-arty-arty-arty-tortured-and MYASS stuffed animals replaced furniture 45.
I wore my black boots, day lambda black leggings, a black tunic dress-way asymmetric year 80 (which you find in trendy shops twenty years later), a black cardigan cut to the brother, my hair fell on my wise shoulders, I was clearly disguised as a hooker with lip blood, eyes, smoky, opalescent complexion, a luxury bag black leather studded, anything that could get close to this wave-Paris-bobo rock my cursed addition gotho-fashion attire was undoubtedly my incurable neurasthenic condition that I inherited at the end of college. I asked
pass the Doors, I smoked cigarette after cigarette, trying to display a false note for debonair look cool, friendly and completely delighted to end my evening in a slum in the 11th arrondissement.
You did not exist, I was in the land of vodka and tonic and New Order, I spoke English alcoholic, I kissed my emotional void with passion, everything was dirty, everything was predictable, but all was forgotten.
It was everything I hate, self-confident, conceited, worked in an art gallery, stung other fags, hid her eyes in her hair sauerkraut, ersatz aesthetic who strutted to use obsolete words and silly, who spent most of his time to intellectualize everything.
I annoyed to see that the natural attrition was a virtue, that seem to be outweighed this and still 4:01 in the morning.
In my case, I feel like a primitive exchange of bodily fluids.
More minutes passed on, my mood was more physical. More
j'ingurgitais alcohol, my love became more lucid.
I love with a ghost, a ghost, a shadow of a current of air.
I had the illusion of love, but I was just a piece of meat cold and bitter Unable
transport in love.
He told me he read Bernanos, I had absolutely nothing to fuck.
I wanted to run away, running at full speed, far, far, the Forest Gump, abandoning my insensitivity, my lack, my worries and my troubles in this 35 m2 which reeked of deception.
"Without you I'm happy "
[ little girl's voice capricious
is wrong, without you, I'm at an impasse in my life. What a sham
this evening.
I'd like to love you but I can not.
I already hate you, and it's sad that happened after all the orgasms
that you gave me.
What a mess.]
He offered me a coffee to go, and everybody knows I can not stand it.
late night, early morning, I did not know.
I looked a little.
Him more poetic, myself and more trivial, we were two lonely souls. He surely wanted
kiss.
I returned as I was coming,
Only.
free in my actions, I was no prisoner.
I flirted with Jonathan, I failed to Raphael, who was certainly in love with me, I had not turned the page with Adrian, I sucked in Lucas Hall bath for my birthday, Camille wanted to see me & Fuck deeply Guillaume.
autosexuality I will practice and not depend on any cock.
Such were my thoughts when the orgasm came, my arm numb, I fell asleep immediately.

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You are not a solution.
Actually,
You've never been one. Distraction
carnal
From my nights lonely. Poison
latent
Of my desires night.

But your name is

My mouth spits
Every enjoyment
Let others give me.
It's your voice that speaks to me
your body is fucking me.


's why we should stop
see us. Because I become

Addictive.
Bestiale. Compulsive
.

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5:15 7:34 3:32

NEW, NEW nm masculine singular adjective

1 nine, which is fairly new, very recent

2 that replaces something or someone

3 unique, innovative

I conclude my night to sleep three,

Where I started 2009.

I love, I was dumb.