“Everything changes when you start to emit your own frequency rather than absorbing the frequencies around you, when you start imprinting your intent on the universe rather than receiving an imprint from existence.” ― Barbara Marciniak

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Autres / Other (Agenda, Journal, Editing)@ ShedMontfort Writing
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… QUI ES-TU?… WHO ARE YOU?… Kiyès ou ye?

Learning to love myself

I am learning to love myself
Through the pains
The misunderstandings
The rejections
I am learning to love myself
Through that ever present gap
From where I was torn
By those using the word “love”
As leverage
I am re-learning to love myself
I am not incomplete
I am not lacking of anything
I simply happen to be
A heart far too genuine
For its own wellbeing
A puzzle piece
Going through life’s adventure
In search of its true home
A healing heart, although afraid
Still unwilling to give up

Face your truth

You reach a point in life where you are just in the know, where you know the truth, your truth. Where you can no longer hide behind all the “fakeness” and the excuses. Where you are forced to admit your wrongs and misconceptions. There is no way out of that. No matter how much you may run from it, manage to keep so busy your mind can barely function, use all possible coverage to delay the inevitable self-analysis… There comes this time, this scared-to-your-gut terrifying moment where all rushes to the surface and you find it hard to breathe, hard to even remember your own name.

All the cover up, the make up, the pretenses, the turning-your-head-the-other-way tactics simply become pointless. Because You. Have. To Face. Your Truth. It is almost as if someone turned on a switch and all you had been hiding from came rushing back, bouncing right up your heart, making it beat so fast, you fear a heart attack. It is like you were watching a movie only playing in your mind and digging through your worst, very worst moments, those very moments you wished to stay clear of. You then cry. And whenever you think you have seen it through, whenever you think you have dried it all out and there can no longer be any water left in you for one last drop to fall even to save your life…. well the flood comes right back and you witness your eyes pouring water as if sweating off a 3 hour nonstop run up a mountain and your lungs ready to explose from lack of air.

You find yourself rummaging through lost artifacts and trophies and mementos which once held so much importance you had not dared think of your life without them. Yet at that very moment, all you can do is wish you could get one of those miracle erasers and wipe it all out, start new, forget what you had lived and hit that rewind button to get a chance, another shot at life… As if that were even possible…

Do you dare wonder how you will face this horrific yet so necessary moment of truth? … Or… Do you rather use the wait and see formula so much easier to swallow?

Take a pause

Life has us running in all directions trying to figure out the how and what of things, trying to make sense of senseless, trying to build our “self” from nothingness. We never stop, never pause, never take a break to ask ourselves the questions that truly matter. All we do is rush and push and run and climb and fall and complain and fight and again rush, push, run, climb… A never-ending cycle.

There comes a time indeed when we desperately need to press the pause button, a time when we need to stop all and face what we claim to value. May these solitary moments be chosen or imposed by Life, there is no escaping them. We are so inclined to run from one thing to the next that we hardly ever take time to acknowledge just how drained we are. It is as if we are running away from our own lack… of what? We can’t even answer that.

We worry about actually “looking” busy, important, in charge, in control… we worry over the image the world has of us, over the way they will evaluate our worth… How ridiculous isn’t it? Yet it is the reality of things… isn’t it? Stop right there! Stop the lies, the excuses, the pretenses. Stop building up your case as if you were preparing to be judged by the high council of Life over who you are and what you have done with your life. Nobody truly cares! Best put that in your mind.

Each person is far too busy over looking great and successful and extraordinary to truly notice if you aren’t doing anything. Each person is far too worried about keeping a certain image, a certain standard, a certain level in this madness of a society that you can fool just about any of those blind sheep by simply painting yourself in shiny matters even if underneath absolutely nothing can hold you together. Haven’t you realized that the questions asked are only about material things? Your studies, your degrees, your titles, your net earnings, your status, your possessions, how far you have gone, how the external world views you, what influence you have in the “popular” circles of the apparent worldly wealthy ones… and you think it is because they care? Wake up!!! They are only looking for a scale to compare their own greatness. If you fail to answer as expected, they suddenly feel over-the-top as they are by all means superior to your achievements. If you mention something they haven’t thought of doing themselves, be ready for it! A hidden knife will be pulled behind the apparent congratulations and the “why only this” type of questions will pop out of nowhere to bust your bubble… that is if you had doubts about your self worth.

It is extraordinary to notice just how confused people get when your answer is not based on material things but rather on soul, on values, on inner riches. It is almost as if this inner world we all know does exist no matter how we strive to ignore it, this inner world we call soul, it is almost as if it is the dark castle in all of the fairy tales and horror movies invented by man: something to avoid inevitably as if it didn’t exist… but same as those fairy tales and scary movies, you can only find your true treasures, your true peace, your true worth, by going through these dark dens, by facing your darkest fears.

No matter how well trained of a runner you may be, life will catch up at a time or another. So why not decide to voluntarily take that pause and deep-dive in your inner dark seas? You will for sure be surprised by what you will find: of course a few rotten skeleton you thought you have left way behind, but also unexpected splendors this materialistic world if forcing us to ignore, unexpected greatness resting within each of us.


Society’s speech

Do not disturb
As society sleeps
Your burdens?
Hide them!
Your sorrow?
Keep it on check!
Who asked you to speak?

Had you actually believed
The right was yours
To draw attention?
No one wants to see
That heart on your sleeve.
No one wishes to know
The nightmare tearing you apart
If you can’t pretend
Then you’ve missed your exit
If you can’t just play along
Then you must have
Picked the wrong song
Your image is what counts

Why bother?
It’s all about empty shells.

Do not disturb!

If you want part of this world
The rules are laid out
Pretend happiness
Extend your circle
Or …
Just stay out the line
And be your miserable, pitiful self

What will it be?
Your call!
Yet society won’t wait


Fear is but a thought

No matter how much we may fight, there comes a time when our inner walls shatter, when we crumble, when we fall, when all our strongly elaborated thoughts are drowned by unforeseen darkness. We push… It pushes back… We scream and ram… Nothing but emptiness… Aloneness… Obscure silence… Society lashes into us, sucking out our very essence; those we hold dear can barely fill the void… That is if they’ve even tried… No proper sense to life, no proper meaning or reason to go on… Nothing but shadows…

When these happen, when “things” come our way… things we should be scared of, things that should drive us crazy… we can choose to be drown by them…. Or to embrace them…. To go deep into what hurts us most and find the key to our own strength.

Fear is but a thought! Yes, just a thought. A simple thought magnified by our own personal internal lenses. Flip the coin! Transform those lenses into your own personal fuel, make that fear what pushes you forward. If you can turn it into “something”, “anything”, then it can no longer be a fear. It will then be an opportunity.

Now that I have said it, let me see how far this can take me! I am no magician! I am just a woman going through her own battles.


2006 – 2018… Tout un voyage…

Entre l’écriture et moi… Une histoire de passions, de déchirements, d’angoisses, de séparations amères et de retrouvailles enivrantes… Une histoire toujours inachevée…

Dans mon “ERRANCE”, cherchant à guérir de mes blessures, je me suis “MISE-A-NUE”. Il est parfois bénéfique d’interrompre le silence par le cri de nos émotions “UNVEILED”. Ainsi ai-je compris combien la vie était “PHENOMENA“.

Après un temps de pauses et d’introspections, j’ai pu immortaliser mes “EPHEMERIDES”. Je me suis tournée vers la spiritualité avec un “COEUR EN VEILLE”, cherchant à comprendre le sens du tumulte en moi. Ne voulant rien oublier de mon vécu, j’ai retracé les “VISAGES IMMORTELS”, ce qui m’a porté à admettre l’aspect plutôt “PECULIAR” de mon existence.

Suite à un arc-en-ciel d’événements et d’émotions sans précédent, je me livre donc “HEART & SOUL” à la Puissance régissant l’univers. Dans l’espoir de réponses, mes pas me porteront peut-être vers les souvenirs d’antan pour admettre mes “CONFUSIONS”, confronter mes “ILLUSIONS” et traverser mes “NUITS BLANCHES”. “IRONIE ET SARCASME” font pourtant le poids sur la balance… Tout a sa raison d’être… ou de ne point être…

L’existence est une pièce à “DOUBLE FACE”. Il faut savoir quand avancer et quand se tourner vers les ARCHIVES du temps d’autrefois… Le plus important, peu importe la route, l’expérience ou les charges s’imposant, il ne faut point perdre de vue que la clef de toute existence reside dans la recherche de “KLETE NAN KALVE”. Aussi l’âme, traversant les diverses étapes et tribulations de cette existence, garde-t-elle sa nature UNTAMED, pure et intacte.

Around the clock…

Tic… Toc…

The clock is ticking. Each passing seconds gets my heart pounding. Each passing second and I lose myself a bit more in those clouds, in those thoughts, in the longing to fly away… away? No! Wrongly said! Simply fly! Open wings, fly. Soar above all, as the wind takes me … back to the good, up to the heavens…


Is there any such thing as “reality”? Do we really age? Do we actually gain or is it just a way to pretend that our posture and poise mark who we truly are inside?

Tic… Toc…

I no longer know, I can no longer control the liquid flow of inner vibration. With each tic a piece of me is taken away, with each toc a piece of the puzzle is set in the way.

My life, your life, who truly care? We are all up for the same crazy, rocky, inspiration ride…


On prétend tout savoir
On prétend avoir une quelconque importance
On prétend être des êtres à part
On prétend ne rien attendre des autres
On prétend avoir une connaissance claire de ce à quoi on aspire
On prétend que la fin n’est qu’une utopie
On prétend vouloir…
On prétend pouvoir…
On prétend même ne point avoir de prétention
On prétend encore et encore
On prétend encore et toujours
Mais dans le fond, que sait-on vraiment ?

Je Suis Maya…

Je suis Maya, Sony Vridzka Maya.  Je suis le personnage imaginaire né de l’insomnie d’une fille, d’une femme, d’une enfant.

Un souffle!  Je ne suis qu’un souffle qui l’emporte à l’autre bout de l’île, de son imagination, de l’autre côté de l’horizon, de l’autre côté du temps.

Vridzka!  Ce nom me plait!  Simplement exotique sans paraître irréel.  Cela sonne étranger, lointain, voyage… Une envie de voir plus que les quatre murs ordinaires qui encombrent, étouffent cette vie alanguie. Vridzka! Comme une brise au lever du jour, un voile d’or sur un champ de bataille au temps médiéval…Ou même, et pourquoi pas, une ombre de douceur sur la tombe d’un chevalier dont l’armure rouillée chante encore les gloires… ou la défaite.

Vridzka!  Je vous offre une place dans l’antre de ma vie, une place où l’oubli vous tiendra compagnie, l’oubli de vous-même, de vos racines… L’oubli… L’oubli même de l’oubli.  Je vous offre en hommage un présent du paradis.  Je vous raconte mon âme, je vous raconte ma vie.  Enfin… celle que j’aurais voulu connaître, ou plutôt celle d’une petite fille dont la confidente n’est autre que moi.

Laissez moi vous conter, comme le ferait une enfant, laissez moi vous conter ma naissance en ce temps. Par une nuit étouffante d’angoisse et d’amertume, je me vis apparaître, émergeant de la brume.  Mes yeux rencontrèrent pour la première fois un monde de cristal sous le cri des orages.

Je me nomme Maya.  Symbole des montagnes, de l’éternité.  Je suis une fleur pas encore fanée que l’existence foule du pied.  Je suis tour à tour reine et esclave.  Majestueuse sur mon trône d’étoiles… Délaissée… marginale.    Dans cette forêt sauvage où se croisent chaque jour le désir de muer et celui de rester figé, je deviens eau, libre et fière, ou même roseau me pliant aux lois de la guerre.

Maya… Une affirmation qui me coûte cher!   Car faut-il bien du courage pour reconnaître son identité!  La lune est mon chant aussi bizarre que cela puisse paraître. Elle que je n’ai jamais pu approcher est bien la seule à lire mes pensées.  De part le monde, des monuments dressés tentent de charmer cette dame voilée.  Mais ces monuments ne lui disent rien que déjà elle ne savait.  Le vent, son plus grand amour, peut se faire brouillard pour la séduire, tempête pour la conquérir, zéphyr pour la bercer.  Que ne ferait-il! D’ailleurs…Qui ne succomberait à ses rires!

Assez! Mon esprit s’envole trop loin de mes frontières! A nouveau je me présente: Sony.  Mes pas ont foulé le chantier dans lequel mes entrailles sont ancrées.  Terre! Chère terre!  Ancre qui me retient sur les rives de la raison… Je ne connais qu’une parcelle de cet univers et déjà je m’y attache tant… Mon voyage vers l’inconnu me semble un tourment.

Sony… Des cloches carillonnent à chaque moment; mon cœur à leur rythme palpite, tressaille… Comment, comment ne pas sentir ce feu, le feu de la vie parcourir l’espace, dévorer les moindres parcelles des astres, se fondre en ces derniers pour devenir à lui seul l’unique beauté ! La jouissance parfaite! L’éclat cent fois millénaire!

Sony… Un murmure au creux des veines qui frissonnent dans l’attente.  L’attente d’un rêve, d’un espoir, d’une quête… L’attente d’un but, d’une fête, d’une passion.

Je suis Maya, Sony Vridzka Maya.  Je m’appelle … tout simplement.  Je suis vide et plénitude…  L’écriture et le papier… L’un et l’autre… L’un sans l’autre…

 Texte tire de “Errance

Pawòl Fanm…

Ou fè m mal…
Mwen chita bò kote w
Men ou pa wè…
Ou pa wè dlo ki paka koule ankò
Ou pa wè san m ki fin seche
Ou pa wè vwa m ki fin ale
Ou pa wè kè m ou fin rache
Ou fè m mal…
Chak jou ki pase
On ti kal nan mwen ale
Men sa pa di w anyen
Ou pèdi nan sa ki enpòtan pou ou
Ou pèdi nan plezi lavi a ofri ou
Ou pèdi… ou pèdi nan sa mwen pè nonmen
Ou fè m mal…
Men ou blye
Ou blye si se mwen ki kenbe kle nan m ou
Ou blye si se mwen ki ba w tout fòs ou
Ou blye si se po m ki sèvi w kouvèti
Le mak sou po w vle fè w pèdi tèt ou
Ou fè m mal…
Mwen bouke di w li
Ou fè m mal
Mwen bouke montre w li
Ou fè m mal
E se domaj sèl jan w’ap konprann li
Se lè w’ap chèche m
Pou detire venn ou yo fin krochi
Menm van pap kite w jwenn sant mwen
Pou soutni w lè pye w pati

The Puzzle

Life is a puzzle. We are each tiny pieces trying to fit in the overall picture, trying to find the spot where we belong.

As the years go by, we smooth our edges, clean our tips which have been torn by our failed attempts to fit in the wrong places. As the years pass by, we learn to be more careful, more attentive, more conscious of our choices. No matter how well-placed, well-shaped a spot may seem… we keep in mind the pain of lost times and efforts caused by forcing ourselves to blind in, … we hold back, observe, think, analyze… and only then do we take the step…

Life is a puzzle. Impulsiveness is the master puppet. Pain is the teacher. At at the end, our brain and mind finally collide and their union brings forth where truly sits our wounded edges.

Resilience – you either get bitter or better

The first version of my story, or should I say of my testimony, was written/typed on February 5th 2015 as I was still at the hospital. Just for accuracy sake, I will point out that my left hand did the job as my right hand was immobilized. I was far too tired of repeating what had happened over and over and wanted to put a stop to the questioning. I was asked why write it in english? I will answer: why not? The important thing for me was and still is to express myself and I did it as it came, not overthinking whether or not english, french or creole was an option. The important thing was to let all out.

So for those who truly care, for the barely curious ones, for those who like that “lady” only focus on what’s making a hit, here is a compiled version of my journey. Part III is yet to come, but I wonder if I will force it out.

Anyhow! Enjoy the ride!


I have gone through what many would call a life-shattering event… I call it resilience: an opportunity to grow, to face my deepest fear, to discover my inner strength.

Wednesday January 28th, 2015. I go to bed feeling sad and tormented for no apparent reason. Nothing seemed amiss, yet something was eating me up. I cry, pray, and meditate. Can’t put my finger on what is bothering me. So I let go and focus on what had brought me previous moments of joy…

Thursday January 29th, 2015. I absolutely do not want to go to work. Something since the night before is nagging me, pushing me to stay home. I walk all over the house, bug my mom some, and look around my room in search of the perfect excuse to stay home. But…. Have to drive mom to her Thursday benevolent activity and must hold my part in the office team. So I get my act together and get ready for the day.

I look in the mirror and smile to myself. Hey! Who said self-encouragement doesn’t work! On set, key on ignition, car ready, and there we go.

In the office, the usual drill… but I can’t eat… my heart is still heavy. I joke, discuss important office matters, prepare files for reports to be submitted… but I am still not “there”. I look at my list and can hardly find the usual drive to step into my game

Around 11-ish, I head for the church after notifying my manager. Mom is done so we head to the bank, which I hardly ever do on weekdays. The teller assisting me takes forever… I start getting annoyed, but I rein-down my temper and use all my reserve of patience and good manners

Noon-ish. Finally heading home to drop mom. Don’t know why but I make detours I usually don’t do before taking my usual route. Somewhere between 12:35 and 12:40, I live the most nerve wrecking 5 minutes of my life.

As we hit a small traffic, a man comes to my mother’s window trying to open the door, a gun pointed at my mother, asking we put down the window. My car windows been darken, he cannot see inside the car. He is on edge it seems, looking back and forth, seeming rather at odds with his red-and-green stripped shirt, sunglasses and black beret. I put the car on reverse, go back a notch and hit drive full force heading left. But a local transportation car trying to hit a double line blocks me. This time 2 of them come to my side. Second reverse, and trying to head to my right…. All of a sudden, I hear a weird noise, see my right hand shaking as if I was staring at someone other than myself, see my car hit the back of a car and here my mother scream “Jesus”.

The car stops. I cannot recall if I turned off the car or if it happened by itself. I see my window tumble down. I tell my mom to call my boyfriend then I open my door and step out. I see blood all over my car seat, on the floor, and on me. Then I take note of the hole in my right forearm… Weirdly (thank God) I do not feel any pain, but remain solely focused on taking my mother to safety. I look around and there is no sign of the bandits. I turn around and see this woman trying to take a pic of my bleeding arm!!! Unbelievable! Should have lashed at her, but my focus was elsewhere. I hear someone scream a man’s name and realize they were calling a man stuck between the wall and my car! Gosh! I hit someone…. No time! I lend a hand to mom telling her to come out quick. She takes her bag, slides over my seat and comes to my side. My brain is on overdrive: 10 more minutes and I will be fainting. How I know that without any particular medical knowledge? Only God knows!

We cross and I go straight to the Official car on the other side of the street. I bang on the window and tell him I am hurt. He opens the back door, gets my mom and myself in and tells the driver to speed to the hospital… I tell him which hospital to head to. I ask him to take off my ring as my fingers are getting inflated. Mom helps me take off my jacket… I ask the man to make a knot with a shirt found in his car because my blood is pouring all over the place. I feel myself fading. I ask my mom to call my manager. I spit out the number trying hard to focus on not fainting yet… I needed at least one person to know. She is unreachable. I then tell mom again to call my boyfriend. He answers. Mom doesn’t seem to find her words. I take the phone and talk to him… can barely recall what I said, but I know he was stunned. Once I give back the phone the pain hits. I still ask mom to call my mentor… my former manager… both unreachable! But I still breathe because I know that with that one person reached, the game is set. It all happened in a matter of seconds, but it felt like an eternity…

I start to lose my hold … the man gives his number to my mom and asks me questions to which I answer without fully understanding what I am saying…. I start to faint… I ask him to let me lean on him and he keeps on telling me to hang on. I put my injured hand on my mom’s cheek and tell her to calm down because I am fine and we were safe. I stare in her eyes and smile then lean on that Good Samaritan whom God placed there at this exact moment to come to my rescue. I am fading… I am in and out but still answer his questions. I hear him give final indications bringing the hope that the hospital is near. We make it but the driver is hesitating. Eyes closed, my breathing shallow, I guide him. The man jumps out and screams for a chair. He helps mom get off the car, then me. My legs give in. He carries me to the emergency room. As he is about to take the stairs, the security guard helps him after hearing him say it was a gun wound and seeing the amount of blood on our clothes.

We reach the emergency room on time and the doctor in service automatically wires me to a serum. I start getting back to myself. The man gets ready to leave. I hang on to his hand murmuring “thank you” with whatever strength I could manage. He tells us to call him if anything.

I find it hard to breathe, but the doctor tells me I am fine, it was just my body going on panic mode. The door opens: my manager, director, and chief of security walk in. I smile just enough for them to see I am ok. They ask questions, I manage to answer… but only barely. My heart is pounding. I am again restless. The door opens again and my boyfriend walks in, face completely ashen and torn by an indescribable expression. My breathing eases automatically. He stands near and I lean my head on him. I finally felt safe. May seem overly girly and romantic, but after nearly going on the other side, I didn’t care that others were there.

From there started the journey for the bone x-ray which would clear the way for the surgery…


There is so much I don’t remember, so much my brain simply didn’t, couldn’t register. Now at nearly 3 months away, the questions are flashing at me like many tiny light bulbs about to combust….

From the stairs to the emergency room… I know I lost it because I don’t remember the nurses we encountered on the way, that weird bell sound, entering the room, been seated in the wheelchair, the needles through my veins, the pressure of the bandage as it is set on my wound, the voices around me rushing to keep me alive, my mother’s explanation, the urgency of each movement as I sit motionless…. I didn’t know any of this…. To me it was just the stairs and letting go of my human guardian angel’s hand as I was leaving the room….

I know now what it means to be in and out of reality…. The doctor talks I answer, mom talks I answer, my director talks I answer… But I can barely recall anything said, except some seemingly insignificant details… I don’t remember what I did or said, just some flashing images as if I had been coming out of a deep deep dream… And maybe it was the case… Dying almost felt… Normal!

At a certain point of time, things sort of got clearer, my brain seemed to have gotten enough back up from the serum because I could actually talk and be heard… What I absolutely do remember though: the gentleness of the nurses, the motherly way the doctor watched over me, the anxious stares of those who came, the hidden worry in the voices around me, the anger and despair in the two persons I care for most, the strength my mother displayed although watching her only child fade right before her eyes… the safety, love, and recognition that washed through me as well as a deep rooted desire to sooth their worries… Managing to smile and remaining reasonable although all I wanted to do was crawl out of my skin… No easy task! But besides all that happened, I felt protected and cared for…. That was all I actually needed.

Back to reality…

… They ask to talk to my mother. I ask him to stay with her for me. I know how mom is: she definitely needed the support. As they all leave the emergency room, I look around. The doctor in charge was standing next to me, watching my every move… there is so much I don’t seem to recollect, or perhaps I should admit so much I didn’t know when they took place, like when I got put on the wheelchair, when my wound got bandaged, when they inserted the needle to hook me to the serum… it seems I had passed out pretty badly. The nurse asks me if I want to drink some water. I say yes and they bring me a cup of hot water. I make a face and they laugh. I know I am on chock but boiling water? Seriously? That’s a straight ticket to diarrhea. They add up some cold water to it and I try to drink once more. I look at myself… not so pretty! My skirt had blood filaments; my toenails look as if a paint pot had been thrown at me. Heeeeewwwww! I needed a serious cleanup. I so hate the smell of blood… and I had just that all over…. I am feeling like throwing up… I can’t breathe… put me closer to the bed I ask, I really need to rest my head. Doctor makes small talks while I try to catch my breath.

They all come back, ask me questions, take note of what’s important, smile at me, tell me not to worry while their eyes… I best be strong for all of them. That’s what I am good at… I have to!

We are asked to go elsewhere to get the x-ray done. Don’t know what is discussed with my mom, don’t know any of the planned details… Boyfriend leaves to handle whatever is related to my car and some of our belongings still in there… There is lots of talking around me about the hows and whys of leaving the hospital… I somehow zoom out although my eyes are wide opened… We leave the ER and head to the provided car… Now that’s another dilemma: getting out of the wheelchair to get in the car with both my arms occupied… We manage and as mom sits next to me I put my head on the window and close my eyes… My skirt was getting cold now caked with my blood. My once white shirt turned a dirty type of color like washed-off-red, my sandals feel like sand had been sprayed on them… Oh well…

As we leave the hospital, I see a blue local cab get in… My manager talks to someone on the phone, then tells me something… My brain was back on lockdown mode, didn’t grasp a word she said… As we reach the last turn before the clinic we were heading to, I see my two coworkers and dear friends walking… I don’t really understand what they are doing in that area at this time of the day… One of them waves at me while the other one makes a gesture pointing toward the clinic… Then I understood! They had been in that local cab and headed straight to the clinic as they missed us at the hospital! I was truly touched and happy to see them.

At the clinic’s door, again the getting out problem. Surrounded by the 3 ladies, my mother and the driver, I slowly glide (not walk) toward the entrance just as a lady comes out stating “if you are here for an x-ray, the machine doesn’t work”. She said it in such a peppy voice it seemed as if she was rejoicing. I get a slight panic as I lose my step and my breathing changes. They rush me back in the car and oh gosh! Relief!

The ladies get in with us. They were not about to leave without knowing what would happen and as we drive to the second known place, they try chatting with my mom while keeping their anxiety on check. But I know them. I can hear it without them talking and feel it as the closest one plays in my hair. In the Radio-Lab’s parking, again the fight not to lose my footing. As we reached the stairs, the man guarding the gate tells us that it is already closed. I don’t look at anyone but simply sit on the stairs, my back to the wall, eyes closed. Didn’t care about the dirt, the people passing by, the stares, the state of my clothes… Didn’t care! Someone talks to him and summarizes the situation. He goes in for a few seconds, then comes back to let us in. Getting up was another problem, but it happened, don’t know how. One by one I take the stairs as if it were the hardest thing ever. I dropped myself on the first chair that came to view and laid my head on someone while the others were handling the administrative paperwork.

After 10 to 15 minutes (or so it seemed to me), I was taken to the x-ray room… All this moving got the best of me and while the man was positioning my arm, I threw-up on the floor. The man said it was a good sign and that it meant my body was fighting back. I didn’t comprehend a thing in what he said though I heard the words. We are asked to wait for the results by the receptionist. I am again feeling restless and ask every few seconds if we can’t leave yet. At some point, not too sure how it happened or what led to that, mom squeezes my injured arm. I scream and everybody jumps. Could have actually laughed at their reaction if that dizziness was not trying to get the best of me.

After what seemed an eternity, we are given the x-ray copies. Now it was getting up, walking, take the stairs, getting in the car… Finally seated, I laid my head back… Was finding it hard to breathe again. I don’t recall much of the trip back to the hospital, though I think I spoke to someone on the way. Back in the ER, I finally get to lie on a bed. Oh heaven!!!

I answer questions, smile, but somehow I am so very detached. The first surgeon comes in and explains to me what will be happening during surgery and also the mandatory steps that will follow. I still manage to make him laugh when he talks about antibiotics… How is it I can joke in such a situation… Only God knows!

Boyfriend comes back with our belongings! Apparently my car had already been secured before his arrival so nothing got stolen. A State Rep is with him, asking if I can explain what happened. Mother doesn’t want me to talk. She starts telling the story but get some facts wrong as she was confused as to the how and when it all happened. I let them know I can make the report and take over where mom had gotten. I am shaking, suddenly feeling cold. Out of nowhere the State Rep said that the person my car hit before crashing in another car was in quite critical state… I really didn’t need to hear that… Tears are piling up… “No tears!” I turn my head to look at the one who said that and instantly gain control over my emotions… After the report is done, State Rep leaves with his assistant.

Someone brings office t-shirts so mom could change. Same someone stays with me in the ER while mom and the others disappear once more, heading for the administration office. She jokes with me while the nurse takes blood samples for the routine tests and then gives me my first injection…. Felt like fire was poured through my veins!!! But it was necessary… As I said to the doctor, who knows where that man’s hands had been before he touched the bullet that hit me in his gun… There goes my crazy imagination again! I definitely would take 10 shots if needed!

A few more minutes or hours passed, I get my arm prepared for the upcoming surgery and my clothes changed into hospital robes. I am taken to my room where 2 unexpected visitors show up. News does travel fast! My main surgeon drops by for a chat. Test results were ok, x-ray showed some bad damage, my overall state was good, no food or drink until further notice. Weirdly that day, I had only taken juice in the morning… Serendipity? Talk about that!

I am again in and out after the doctor’s visit. How much time passed? Who came by? Who was with mom?… A total blur! Two nurses show up to take me to surgery room. I smile at mom, crack a joke with a friend who ended up been there God-knows-how, and watch the walls as my bed is being rolled out…

And there we go! Step 2 to my healing process.


I am blessed. There is no way out of that. I am blessed and loved and cherished and if I ever doubted it, this traumatic experience actually proved it to me.

11 months and 2 weeks. That’s how long it took me to finally be able to get back to my public life. 11 months and 2 weeks, yet I am still not completely healed. Do I dare complain? Absolutely not! I do cry when reminiscing what I had to face, but I have never been happier or more alive…

(To be continued… Maybe…)

(After 3 years… I doubt anything else will be added to this text)

From me to me – another beginning

A new year has begun

I am absolutely unsure of what it has in store for me. I can’t even say I am listing new resolutions… What is the point anyway? Resolutions are written down every single year, month, day… Yet not even 2% can dare say “Yes! I have followed through”.

For this year, I wish me the best of times with the artist in me, with the dreamer I am hosting, with the adventurer I have discovered. I also wish more stars upon my more down-to-earth half, less worries, more smiles, more carefree thoughts when facing unborn dreams (why fuss over what is not and may probably not be when that energy can be invested elsewhere)

I have a ticket from Heaven for a new free 365 days ride. Keeping my fingers crossed that I will make the best of it. Wishing me the best of luck

Belle ironie!

Chaque année à pareil moment, que l’on en soit conscient ou pas, on se laisse piéger par cette croyance selon laquelle il faut un bilan de l’année prenant fin et préparer une liste exhaustive de résolutions qui, on le sait bien, n’ira pas plus loin que la feuille de papier ayant servi de victime à un rituel superbement ridicule. Et tout ça, dans le but d’être “prêt”.

Et si l’on changeait la donne pour une fois? Ceux et celles des générations passées savent bien à quoi s’en tenir quant à ces “resolutions”. Et si pour une fois le “focus” ne se basait que sur les bonnes choses à conserver? Et si pour une fois on abandonnait les rêves farfelus causant une superbe crise de déprime au bout de quelques mois d’abandon? Il y a déjà tant et tant de choses chamboulant l’univers, pourquoi ajouter encore à la torture?

Des résolutions? Je n’en aurai pas cette année. Je les remplacerai par un désir plus concret… Une quête perpetuelle vers le beau, l’authentique, vers mon “moi” caché, vers cette humanité enfouie sous tant et tant de couches de haine voilant elle-même une douleur inavouée… Je me contenterai de chercher le beau, de voir le beau, de trouver le beau en tout et en tous même dans les situations qui assurément m’arracheront le coeur et la peau. Il n’y a qu’ainsi que l’on peut faire face à 365 nouveaux jours d’incertitudes.

Quoi? Vous me trouvez pessimiste ou fataliste? Vraiment!? Soyons honnêtes! Pouvez vous sérieusement sans la moindre hésitation prédire très exactement à quoi votre voyage de 365 jours aboutira? Les résolutions, ça c’est dans l’ordre des “peut-être” possibles dépendants de notre seule intervention sans tenir compte de l’univers en constante évolution. Mais dans le concret, qu’est-ce de plus sinon un jeu de hasard?

Je me contenterai de ma quête du beau. Qu’importe si vous pensez que je me limite. C’est bien ainsi que j’ai surmonté la chute libre de mes résolutions, envolées en un battement de cils. Voir au delà de ce que me montrent mes yeux m’a permis de comprendre, d’apprendre, de découvrir, d’apprécier, d’accepter, de grandir…

Ces derniers 365 jours ne furent en rien ce à quoi je m’attendais, ce à quoi j’aspirais. J’ai pourtant été fidèle au “positivisme” exigeant de ne se concentrer que sur ce que l’on voudrait introduire dans sa réalité … Cependant… Je ne m’en plaindrai pas. J’en suis sortie meilleure. Je me suis découvert des “qualités” et une endurance que je ne me connaissais pas. J’ai aussi découvert la face cachée de mon monde, à savoir les vraies mains tendues, les vraies voix constituant mon système de support. Je suis reconnaissante! Oh combien reconnaissante malgré le sang versé.

Alors… Ces fameuses résolutions? Vous pouvez vous les garder! Ce carcan ne sera plus le mien.

On ti souri

Gende jou ou leve, ou tèlman poze tèt ou kesyon, ou santi ou vle fou. Ou santi sèvèl ou prèt pou pran dife. Ou santi si ou te ka jwenn bouton “rekòmanse” a, sa t’ap pi gro mirak ak pi bèl chans nan lavi’w.

Ou rann ou kont konbyen bagay ki pase anba nen’w men ou pat atrap pou yon rezon oswa on lòt. Se nan jou sa yo ou wè tout sa ou manke. Se nan jou sa yo ou wè lavi tout moun pi bèl pase pa’w. Se nan jou sa yo menm moun ou pata renmen vin tankou li a, ou gen enpresyon se sou nyaj l’ap mache tèlman afè li sanble ap mache.

Hmm… Mwen pase maladi, men mwen poko konn remèd la. Mwen gen pou mwen jwenn li yon jou. Pou kounye a, men sa mwen gen pou’m di ou. Moun w’ap gade a, moun ou panse ki gen tout sa ou ta swete a, moun w’ap regrèt ou pat fè menm jan ak li a, èske ou sèten ou tap ka bwè nan koup li bwè a? Èske ou sèten sa li fè pou li rive kote li ye a, ou t’ap gen fyèl, ou t’ap gen kè pou ou fè menm jan an tou? Èske ou sèten kote li pase yo anvan li resi rive a, ou t’ap ka pase nan yo? Èske chayi l’ap pote a, chayi ki kache anba tout opilans li a, èske ou tap gen zepòl pou ou ta pote’l?

Men konklizyon pa mwen dapre sa mwen wè, dapre sa m’ap viv, dapre sa ki ap toumante m. Ou pa janm fin konn on moun nèt! Ou pa jan fin konn sakrifis li fè, ni soufrans li pase. Nou tout krye menm jan, nou tout senyen menm jan, nou tout rann fyèl nou menm jan lè lavi a ap sakaje nou. Se pa paske lòt la nan on chato, pou ou panse lavi li pi bèl. Se pa paske lòt la vire tounen li nan avyon, vire tounen non li sou jounal, vire tounen l’ap fè lòt zanmi pou ou panse plat mayi ak sèl ou a pa gen gou. Nou chak gen on grenn zanno kay ofèv. We li si ou vle, fèmen je’w sou li si ou vle, men chita rayi tèt ou paske ou pa gen ase, oswa rayi lòt la paske ou trouve li gen twòp, se on sèl rezilta l’ap bay: jou w’ap mouri, se remò sèl ki ap kanpe avèk ou. Ou mèt di tout kalite pryè, devide sòm, grennen chaplè, men si ou bay remò manje ou pou sa ki pa rive fèt yo, remò pou chans ou kite pase, remò pou okazyon ou pat profite, remò pou entèl ki fè on lòt rout men ki rive pi vit pase ou… si ou bay remò manje ou, pa gen anyen k’ap ka sove ou.

Aprann wè sa ki bèl nan lavi’w. Si se pou krye, ou mèt krye, sa pa deranje. Pito ou krye tan pou ou vin chimè. Men lè ou fin krye, sye je’w, lave je’w byen epi chèche kisa ki bèl nan lavi ou. Li mèt piti, men li la kanmenm. E lè ou jwenn li, kite li fè ou souri. Senp ti souri sa a…. Ou pa konn kisa li ka chanje. Senp ti souri sa a, se ka se li ki kle ou tap chèche nan gro liv, nan gro kontak la. Anpil fwa, nou dèyè gro mirak, gro evennman, gro eskonbrit… men anpil fwa, pi bèl ak pi gro eksperyans lavi nou konn pase nan on senp ti souri.

2018 Agenda

  • – 120 pages for the 52 weeks of the year with an extra 53rd representing the first week of 2019
  • – Wide space for each day of the week clearly identified and dated
  • – A quote per week to keep you motivated and push you to thinking. 
  • – The 6 x 9 size makes it ideal to be carried around and its thickness allows you to write without the fear of it tearing off.
  • – Comes in 2 versions: full colored interior with glossy cover and  black & white on beige paper interior with matte cover, 
  • May you choose the full colored or the black and white on beige paper, you are sure to meet the exact same motivational content as you move through the weeks

Available on:

Mets sur ma route…

Tu connais déjà les sentiers que j’aurai à parcourir
Les défis que j’aurai à relever
Les combats que j’aurai à livrer
Mets sur ma route les personnes que je dois rencontrer
Réserves-les moi comme cette place en Ton Coeur
Protèges-les afin que je puisse par eux
Découvrir ce que tu souhaites que je découvre
Et que par moi ils puissent accomplir ce à quoi Tu les destines

Tu connais mieux que moi
Les besoins de mon coeur
Mes rêves, mes espoirs, mes désirs
Les aspirations de mon ame
Prépares le coeur de celui (celle)
Que j’aurai comme compagnon (compagne) de route
Prépares mon coeur pour qu’à Ta Lumière
Il puisse le (la) reconnaitre

Tu connais tout!
Qu’en tout temps
Ta Volonté soit fête!

Extrait de Coeur en Veille

A qui le tour?

Nous sommes tous comme des pions sur l’échiquier, comptant les jours, comptant les heures, espérant contre tout espoir que la faucheusse passera loin de notre case.

A chaque jour, un nouveau deuil, de nouvelles larmes, un nouveau mort. A chaque nuit, on passe au crible la liste globale tentant de retenir le cri silencieux qui nous étouffe à chaque annonce. A chaque moment , la même question : et maintenant, à qui le tour ? Qui sera la prochaine victime de cette galère qu’est devenue la vie de tous les jours ? Qui sortira le vaincu de cette lutte sans merci ? Qui glissera de justesse de ces zones grises où la mort attend oh combien patiemment le passage calculé de la nouvelle proie ? Qui tombera encore sous le poids des armes assassines ? Qui, pour un oui ou pour un non, gardera à jamais le silence tandis que les cris accompagneront la montée de son âme ?

A chaque jour, le même refrain ! Et jusqu’à quand en sera-t-il ainsi ? A quand la fin de l’horreur ? A quand une journée sans cercueil ?

Serendipity – world blind

We hardly ever realize the link between events until we are actually stuck somewhere, blocked by a moving wall and unable to move without some serious effort from our side.

I am facing one of these moments now. Yet Serendipity is what comes to mind. All the puzzle pieces are so well put, so well laid out, it is choking how blind us human beings can be! Each tiny rock well placed, each little dust well positioned, how more obvious does life have to be? It is as if reading a book or perhaps using a pirate’s map. The clues are so very obvious that only our very own self blokes the knowledge to the greater being.

Don’t get confused! Read it over and ask yourself how many time the obvious came knocking at your door but you simply stood there, stunned as if your inner compass had not yet showed you the way.

Dark Valley, world apart

I am from a place
Where shapes and shadows
Hold a life of their-own
The sun shines at night
The moon is queen of the day
The fool is the one been followed
And the wise is set astray
Love is a farfetched notion
Only found in books and fairy tales
Harshness is the everyday potion
Drunken willingly
Out of despair

I am from a place
Where a word of kindness
Is like disease in one’s bones
Where one’s worth is hardly noticed
If not tarnished by wickedness
And made impure
No matter the stones moves
The mountains brought together
It is never nearly enough
For a tiny sand dust
May cause any given castle
To crumble to nothingness

I am from a place set apart
A world shying away
Simply letting the clock tic away
I am from a place
Where the heart is a pilgrim
Where home is a dream
Where “me” is nonexistent

Conversation avec mon coeur

Bonjour Mon Coeur!

Comment te portes-tu ce matin? Je sais! Je sais! Tes pensées te troublent et l’agitation semble vouloir avoir raison de toi. Je sais tout ça. Je sais aussi que je n’ai pas été à la hauteur. La crise  d’il y a quelques mois a affaibli ta maison, elle a rendu tes muscles moins puissants et tes veines un peu tremblantes. J’aurais du garder un oeil plus ouvert sur les colères et les nuits blanches. J’en suis désolée, Mon Coeur. J’apprends. Tu sais bien que j’apprends. Je fais du mieux de mes moyens pour t’empêcher de trop subir les frasques de mes pensées en débandade. Mais j’ai fait du progrès hein?! Allez! Admets-le! T’as vu le nombre d’angoisses que j’ai reprimé afin de t’éviter de trop t’emballer? Bon… J’ai bien failli commettre quelques bévues dans ma guerre contre la déprime et les idées noires, mais je me suis reprise hein! Ça t’a étonné aussi n’est-ce pas? Me retrouver face à tant d’indices et ne pas flancher, continuer sur ma lancée en gardant le regard fixe, c’est déjà pas mal hein? J’ai assuré n’est-ce pas? J’admets volontier qu’à des moments, j’ai eu envie de tout laisser tomber, de simplement lacher-prise et me laisser emporter par le vent de la fureur, par le désir de sang que seuls peuvent provoquer les non-dits, par le tumulte des souvenirs enfouis mais regorgeant encore du pus de la déception… Mais je me suis retenue! J’ai ajusté mon cap, arranger mon voile et laisser couler l’eau amère qui menaçait de me déchirer la gorge. Ha! J’ai assuré! Je t’avais promis, Mon Coeur, de faire plus attention, de mieux  te protéger contre d’éventuelles attaques, parce qu’entre nous soit dit, ces vautours une fois installés, les détrôner est aussi compliqué que déplacer une pyramide d’Egypte.

J’apprends, cher Coeur, oui j’apprends à ajuster mes priorités, à ne pas me laisser emporter quand mes principes et mes valeurs sont foulés, ignorés, massacrés par l’egoisme froncier vivant dans ce coin d’ombre caché en chaque humain. J’ai fait des progrès et j’en ferai encore! Petit à petit! Mais sois patient avec moi s’il te plait. Des fois j’oublie et je me laisse prendre aux illusions. Pardonne ces écarts s’il te plait et ne te fache pas trop. Suis humaine avant tout et cette tendance à espérer, et espérer trop vite en plus, c’est bien humain n’est-ce pas?

Je suis contente qu’on ait pu se rapprocher de la sorte. Domage qu’il ait fallu ces circonstances particulières, mais tout arrive pour une raison n’est ce pas? Quand les émotions et la logique ne se parlent pas, c’est la catastrophe au sein de la maison. Mais là, ça va mieux. Je t’écoute, tu me guides, on forme une bonne équipe n’est-ce pas? Allez! Il me faut entamer ma journée. Je te laisse un moment. Une dernière chose: aide moi à calmer mes ardeurs et aussi, fais un coucou à mon cerveau. Il ne  m’écoute pas toujours, mais à toi, je sais qu’il ne refusera rien.

A bientôt donc Mon Coeur!

Fire to Ice, Opposites blinding

I came upon him
Heaven knows how
Just a thought, a simple thought
And it spiraled into…
A full bloom moment in history

Different, so different
Yet similar on so many levels
Our lives colliding
Our bearings crashing
Our barriers mixing
Our wishes entertwining
Our desires finding their echo
Our hopes and losts binding

Like day and night
Fire to ice
Complementing one another
Soothing that emptiness in each other
Growing as vines one in the other
Finally letting go of what once
Caused our worlds to shatter

Monde en plein délire

Je me retrouve encore une fois à me poser la même question: sommes nous vraiment conscients? Nous nous tuons au travail, faisant tout et n’importe quoi pour qu’un monde éphémère nous prenne en considération… Et après?… On tue, on vole, on maltraite, on viole, on trahit, on détruit… Et après?… L’argent et les titres deviennent priorités tandis que nous perdons un peu plus chaque jour de notre humanité… Mais… Et après?… Que l’on ose faire montre d’émotions, que l’on ose laisser percevoir ses sentiments et l’on devient la risée d’un monde qui se perd… Mais après?… Après la gloire, les titres, les débauches, les mythes… Apres les trahisons, les blessures, les guerres ne repondant à aucune logique, n’ayant en fin de compte aucune raison, après ces disputes, ces quêtes de vengeance, après ces injures, ces gestes de violence, une fois proche de la fin… Comprendra-t-on enfin!?…


J’ouvre les yeux… Encore embrouillée dans les méandres du sommeil, je peine à prendre pied. Petit à petit mon regard s’éclaircit. Je ressens comme un fourmillement quelque part dans ma tête… Ma tête? Non! Ce n’est pas exactement ça. On dirait plutôt un souvenir qui tente de remonter à la surface, comme une vérité connue, mais que ma nature humaine me force à fuir. Et la pensée effrayante me gifle en plein visage: ceci n’est qu’un rêve. Je prends conscience pour la première fois, comme suite à un jugement sans précédant que je ne serai pas toujours “présente”. Je ressens la douleur de cette absence imminente, de la disparition de ce film en couleurs qu’est l’existence sur terre. Je me demande si d’autres ont ressenti la même chose ou s’ils ont préféré faire semblant de croire à cette illusion d’immortalité.

Je sais! Le sujet effraie et fait se redresser tous les poils du corps comme un animal face à un danger impossible à déceler. Il est pourtant nécessaire ce réveil à la réalité. Il faut bien se mettre face à l’evidence. Bien des êtres restent bloqués dans leur suffisance, oubliant que tout n’est que passage, nuage dans le ciel emporté par le vent, petit ruisseau se jetant dans la mer devenant ainsi inexistant.

Ephémère… Tout n’est qu’éphémère… Se le dire est une chose… L’accepter? Un tout autre poids.

November introspection openings

Question of the day.

How can one “genuinely caring” survive in a world where it is the “I” that counts and not “we”? Where each being is focused of their own personal interest and not on what can affect another? Where even loved ones seem to have far more consideration for non-close-relatives then their own ” family”?

Is it then so surprising that said genuine soul goes into disguise and builds protective walls against all harshness and simply refuses to leave all doors open? How ironical is it then that this soul trying nothing more than to protect itself now suddently becomes the ennemy of those unable to use its kindness anymore as they please?


I have often wondered if that word could ever be fully understood, as it is often blocked in the simple logic of not having anyone around, of not being with anyone. But deep down, it absolutely isn’t that simple.

Alone is being in the crowd even surrounded by close ones and feeling lost and out of place.

Alone is not knowing who to turn to when that sudden grip holds our heart and makes our soul shiver out of fear of the unknown

Alone is having your echo answer back when you cry out of pain and anguish, when you desperately need a helping hand, but only meet shadows passing by

Alone is having no one to applaud your efforts, rejoice when you climb higher up the ladder, shout words of encouragement when you are close to breaking down, open their arms to welcome you when you feel this ship called life is about to go down

Alone is staring at your face in the mirror and wonder who that person can possibly be

Alone is not knowing which step to take at a crossroad and having nothing but emptiness pushing you forward

Alone is wishing for what can never be, knowing the wish is impossible, yet still wishing so not to let go.

I believe THAT is what Alone should be described as

… kisa demen ye?

Lavi sa a tèlman frajil
Pran tan w gade byen kote w prale
Kiyès w’ap kite dèyè
Nan kè kiyès w’ap kite tras
Pa di wa tann demen
Demen? Kisa demen ye ?
Kiyès ki konnen ?
Demen ? Ki moun ki konn kote l kache ?
Ki moun ki konnen ki lè lap rive ?
Lavi a frajil…
Pran tan w, poze san w
Viv li byen
Demen ? Pa gen pèsonn ki konnen…

Ekstrè Klète nan Kalvè

Fight back

Is it normal to feel sad? Yes

Is it normal to feel drained? Yes

Is it normal to have down times? Yes

Is it normal to see nothing but a total blur at times? Yes

Is it normal to think this post an apology for negative emotions? Yes

Now, is it normal to back down and simply let yourself be dragged by the veil of uncertainty? This one is a big, fat NO

I am not trying to be overly positive. Not at all! There are indeed times where, for no apparent reason, something simply feels amiss like you just don’t recognize yourself and you end up wondering what’s the point of everything… I mean really EVERYTHING. You simply get lost in translation, out of words, with no desire to move and step up. It is as if an invisible force was trying to pull you under with each weird thought, weird nightmare, and weird emotion leaving you emptier than you were already feeling…

I am going through such a moment and, call it serendipity, call it faith, call coincidence, call it signs (as I do), many things simply pop out of nowhere to remind me that I am on my journey for a reason, no matter how confused it gets me at times. I saw the “fighting pain with laughter” video on Facebook, I saw some specific self-acceptance quotes on Instagram, I received daily motivation readings from a friend with details on the why of the world’s tormented current state… these signs are there to remind me that I AM, that I am not just a vegetative being, but a thinking one.

I am NOT a mistake. I was not just dropped there "out of the blue". I may still be struggling to find MY reason for being, my reason for being on that specific path. But never more will I believe that I just "happened" to be here at this stage, at this age, in this position simply by sheer luck. No matter the pain, the tears, the doubts, I will LEARN, TEACH and GROW through it all.

le monde s’en fout…

de tes peines
de tes douleurs
de tes angoisses
de tes nuits noires
de tes larmes
de tes cris
de tes murmures étouffés
de ton coeur ensanglanté
de tes retards
de tes chimères
de tes doutes
de tes arnaques
de tes amours
de tes pertes
de tes espoirs
de tes galères

le monde s’en fout!

et si tu te mets en tête que peut être tu sauras être différent, crois bien que ce monde putride et insolant saura t’ouvrir les yeux et te faire voir autrement.

Arrete!!! (TBT Septembre 2014)

Ne te méprends pas en me voyant sourire
Tu ne sais ce que cache ce masque de bonne humeur
Tu ne sais les larmes qui couvent ma peur
Tu ne sais le poids qui pèse sur mon coeur

Ne te méprends pas en entendant mon rire
Tu ne sais quels cris il etouffe
Tu ne sais le martyr qu’il engouffre
Tu ne sais la rage dont il est le souffle

Ne te méprends pas!
Ne me juge pas!
Au delà de ce que ton regard perçoit
Tu ne sais le tumulte
Dont mon âme est la proie

The New Found Society (September TBT)

How ironical… I was told lately that diplomas and dedication aren’t what actually take you to the top in the nowadays society. In order to succeed:

  1. you must be willing to stoop low enough so to have your nose close to the ground;
  2. you must insure to have the right acquaintances in your agenda;
  3. you must agree to be stepped upon, used and abused, and turned into whatever is deemed fit at any given moment;
  4. and no matter what it takes or how it might destroy you, you must absolutely find a way to be known by the “big” of this world, do their biddings, be at their total and full disposal, and what sounds even more extraordinary, be also willing to stab them in the back should need be when in presence of the appropriate “bigger” party.

That got me in thinking mode for about a week, caused a huge depression and made me wonder why on earth my mother took so long to bring me up to a certain level of education, shape me with so many values, build my personality with so much knowledge of what is right, wrong and unacceptable, if all I need to do to be known, valued, recognized as the wonderful person and worker that I am is to just “lick” whatever comes my way. I am not frustrated! Do not get me wrong. I am just… out of words!

If that’s what our society has fallen so deeply into, then I shall remain my unknown / shadowy / not-so-popular-pitiful self, earning just enough to keep my head above water and fighting hard enough to keep the true values alive and not the newly-stated-fast-way-to-get-up-the-ladder methods.

This is just my point of view. See it as you will.