Monologue with the night [6]

about me : most people who knew me think I do nothing. the truth is the opposite : I’ve done all I could. even more, it’s them who haven’t done shit. I will not argue with anyone about this matter, not because I am vain, but simply : it’s too complicate. Really. I am in fact no longer in this, I have become something like a ghost. A ghost in the shell.

I think it’ll be around twenty years more, the time I exist. Neither living nor dead. there is no iris, unlike in “the waste land”. Only T.S.Eliot could put a flower in this harsh cold poisoned liquid named loneliness. And I can not be a nihilist, either. Hey. Ice cube on the cake.

To be living, I need something. That something, I don’t think I can find it myself. Withdrawn and a bit defeatism, but truly : it’s in the hand of god.



  1. so i found your blog, randomly, because i was trying to look into the past, also, randomly.

    google told me you have some criticism words for me, which i’m curious about. of course, my curiosity is blocked by the amazing technology call password protected :). but it doesn’t matter. you apparently read my blog, and now i’m reading yours. another random connection in life. which is just enough to be considered beautiful.

    have a nice day

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