Being 30. Sorry 31.

And still so lost.

I am feeling so lonely. I have prayed many times for those I love in the past. I sat on your stair and asked you to give joy, health and happiness to many of my closest. I thought about them a lot on my knees bending under your willingness. I thanked you for making me alive and lucky. I thanked you for what I had lived and for what I was going to. I hoped I'll be strong enough to walk the way you opened for me and I felt blessed for having a roof above my head always and the comfort some doesn't even have. But today I feel down. I still have everything I need. I am still a lucky girl. But it seems I can't find happiness in what I have. I'm healthy and I'm loved by those who really know me. I won't ask you for more money or more friends or more opportunities or even for me to find my soulmate if he does exist.. I only would like a sign that everything is going to be ok. I feel forgotten and ignored. I feel lost and fade. I feel going down with nothing to catch to prevent the fall. I've been trying harder and harder and even if I failed so many times to be the person I wanted to be. The smart girl I believed I was and the kind girl I will always be. But I had no recognition of it anywhere and it's being difficult for me to keep running. I can see people around me being sad too and not being able to help as much as I could. I can see all the effort I've made to help myself and the others with no luck or rewards. What lesson should I learn then ? This seems self centered and selfish but here I am asking you for help. Please help me.

En roue libre. Merci Harry c'est exactement le terme. Chassez la nature elle revient au galop. Celle-là est de ma mère. Bizarre adolescente. Aujourd'hui folle.
Je me demande parfois si il vaudrait pas mieux que je me rende. Je me vois tendre les bras pour qu'on me mette les menottes. Me faire interner pour le crime de la folie.
J'ai jamais su si c'était parce que j'étais différemment intelligente ou complètement conne.
Je réfléchis pas assez avant de parler. Quand je suis complètement moi. Je suis cinglée. Je suis une gamine aussi. I'm a fucked up. Et je finirais en hôpital psychiatrique soit mon pire cauchemar.
Je préférerai mourir que d'être ranger dans cette chambre pour dégénérée mentale.
J'y pense beaucoup à mourir. Beaucoup trop. Je me dis que c'est génétique justement. Que ça tient d'une dégénérescence qui s'expliquerait scientifiquement. C'est pour ça que je tiens droite encore.
Emprunte aux drames que je créais. Par solitude et ennui. A la recherche de l'excitation émotionnelle ou de l'extase masochiste d'avoir vécu des situations extrême ou à côté de la norme.
J'ai toujours l'impression d'être incomprise. D'avoir tellement de complexité interne que je m'y perds. En roue libre.
Je suis déficiente. Je suis sur le droit chemin mais de temps à autres faut que je tombe dans le fossé. Chassez la nature elle revient au galop. Comme si je ne contrôlais plus qui j'étais. Ça pourrait bien être de la schizophrénie ça non?
Et je n'ai que 28 ans.
Je passe mon temps à décevoir et surtout me décevoir sans même savoir qui je voudrais être vraiment. Et qui je suis. Ce que je vaux.. Rien. Je ne veux rien.
Je veux vivre. Contradictoire. Je veux la paix seule et je veux l'amour accompagné. Là je suis plus du côté du premier.
Je veux mourir et je veux respirer. Je suis angoissée parfois. Ça me prend comme ça.
Why? Suis-je folle ? Oui.
Combien d'années encore avant que je ne sombre entièrement. Ce monde est devenu fou aussi. Comment vais-je y vivre ?
Comment garder le cap. Je suis tellement abîmée aujourd'hui puis-je encore changer ? Est-ce irréversible ? Que dois-je faire?
Comment avancer ?
Folle.

 

Here it is: I fall for guys who challenge me intellectually or spirituality but because I'm not at their own "high" level (of ego) I find myself endlessly trying to keep up and prove them I worth it... when from theirs criterias, I don't and I end up acting insane and being doomed/rejected/despised...
Erw. Ét. Jul. all over again..
Okay now we've got the problem.

What's the deal? What's the issue here?

First I'm not confident with myself. Even being realistic and being way aware I've got a lack of culture and a really crap memory.. I seem to have built a profound inferiority complexe leading to instantly fail or worse doing everything to mess stuff up.

Second, I'm a lazy fuckin Bitch. I know I have the potential I do but I just don't use it, I just don't do it. Why ? Refer to the first point.

Third.. I am probably insane. I can't stand boreness and this shittest life everybody seem to be handling ok I never cared for it. I wanted my life to be full of "Bigs" even if it meant obstacles and dramas.. That's when I find it exciting and real and where I feel alive.. When life purposes start to make sense and when it has real deep emotional means. Love sadness death.. Signs of something even bigger.

What's the solution here ?

Keep fitting that world I truly despise.. Run away from conventions by travelling all my life.. I wish.. Internally create the Complicated..
Done done done..

Dunno.. Don't know what to fix and where to star.. Don't know if my dysfunctional behavior can still be changed and how to process..

I am a screwed up. And I do need help.

 

Can't say I'm not thrilled with the news.

This is brilliant and this is really what they wanted either or not I might have think they're a bit young...
Makes me feel old myself. And so does my dad. I always assumed I would be the first one.. first of my generation.. being a woman .. wasn't the black cheep or the black seed but still. This is bitting me in the aSs..
Here you are 28years old single lost and stupid lady but the failure of them all.. and not even a success on properly failing..
I wanted to be a mother for a few years.. I hoped I'd be married by next year only 2 years ago.. and instead I'm going to other's wedding, minding their kids, or waiting for some to just pop up out of their bags.
How do I feel really?
Sad. In some way. Also anxious. What if I'll never be mum? What if I never meet the guy? What if I die from genital part cancer before I even got the chance to conceive..
All of that is killing me somehow desperately.
Sometimes, even if I'm not really religious.. I turn into God's will and I pray.
I just need to believe in myself don't I?

Love is a drug.

It hits you straight in the heart and eat you so quick you've no way to turn back.
I saw him, once. I turned back over myself and faced a stranger. A charming one. One of those, you think "Hey, he's real good looking". And by then you're already screwed. You might be sober, or even being on the defensive side of yourself, boom, the guy starts talking and you can't run away more than a few minutes before curiosity fills you up again and you end up going back to him... when it's not him who follows you around...Cat and Mouth, excepted you've just became the stupid mouth playing along like the cat.

Like a cigaret. Like alcohol. Like drugs.

You're all like, keep cool, he's just another drunk asshole flirting around looking for sexe or fun or time to be wasted, but even if you don't know it yet, you've already fell way down the hard path. Love at first sight? No, you couldn' t say that, that would be naïve...but you're thinking "what if?", "What if this one was different?" or even worse "what if this one was THE one?". And that's the end of it. 

The guy sober up, you haven't filled his expectations for some reasons you know disppoint you in your own and deep self. You haven't been smart enough, you haven't teased his attention enough, you weren't beautiful enough, worse, again, you didn't totally let go and he will never know now who you really are. 

He propably IS the wrong one after all. Because he never let you the chance you thought you desserved. You realise he actually never really try to know you. He kept talking and talking about him, his life, everythings that he's done, that he knows, he spread all his smartness over you like you were the shitty piece of bread that need to be buttered up. And you let him. You've tried the hardest to fill the blank of your own lack of culture and you miserably failed. Your ego is badly hurt and you wish you were the strong and clever girl you've wanted to be since you were little and never really became. But hey, you're other things too.

Right now though, you're only lost, and feeling good at listening to people, story to make you feel useful on Earth. The Mother Theresa syndrome, daughter of God, doctor of pain, convincing yourself the only reason you're here is to help others. 

Him, you can't help. He doesn't wanna be helped. He doesn't want you. 

He might have told you, as a reason or as an excuse, that he didn't forget his ex. What a fuckin reason. You'll not believe him, because you want to believe Love goes a long way if you only try it. 

So then you face yourself again and you realise that it is not you who weren't good enough for him but him who was to screw up to, at least, look passed the short time he spent with you. And that's not that he's not smart. You know he is. He might just be scared or so obssessed with himself he can't see further his own little nose. That wouldn't be the first time.

Unfortunately, it's too late. As I said Love is a slutty drug.

A day later, you feel better, past goes away, your defense memory pushed his face in a deep and locked drawer of your heart with all those who hurt you a way or another. You're not even angry at him or at yourself. That's life. You don't actually care that much. You don't despise man kind either, you're way passed that state of mind, you're just hoping the next time you fall for someone, that person would feel the same. That's all. And then, you're being smart again and focus on other things that matters more. Like your books or movies or studies. Your future as a single woman.

But like a drug addict, sometimes you find yourself pinched in the heart in the middle of nowhere, thinking I wouldn't mind being asked for a kiss again...actually I wouldn't mind seeing him again. Keep strong, the feeling will disappear soon enough. Give you the time of a cure. His name might have taken over all the others guys names, from your ex to the several one night stands. But he's probably just the closest version of what you were looking for in a guy and not even a perfect one. Still you keep hoping life will surprise you, but you'd rather expect never to see him again for you not to be disappointed. An then, you think again.

And you know life's complicated. Love hasn't any universal definition. And who knows what's going to happen next. So, because you actually liked him somewhere just as a person, you surprise yourself being able to only expect friendship from it. And if not, who cares. You're so not going to waste another minute.

Because after all, c'était sûrement juste un coup de coeur. 

And you're way stronger than that.

 

Colorless

Feeling like a black and white picture,
My heart's living between light and dark.
My soul's dying in the blessed future 
Of the night, hoping for the color, 
To come back.

I want to get married.

One day. No matter when.

Only thing I know is How. Cos I DO want all the fuss, the white dress the all over the top decoration table and everything BUT being kind of minimalist myself I want it to be, in a spiritual way, a simple marriage. 

I want it to be somewhere green or sandy, in an open space, outside. I just want an arche of flowers above my head when I say Yes. 

I want my dad to bring me over the aisle and I want my Mum at the first row minding my kids if I have some already. I want Laura, Tania and Eva as my cherished and beautiful bridesmaids and I want my brother to be the best man. All my family and friends would be here and here they are : 

Family :

1. Geneviève B. 
2. François-Xavier J.
3. Jean-Louis S.
4. Maxime J.
5. Mathilde G.
6. Claude F.
7. Pierre J.
8. Eliane
9. Véronique B.
10. Christian B.
11. Philippe B.
12. Violène C.
13. Franck B.
14. Malik M.
15. Delphine M.
16. Anaé
17. Catherine A.
18. Pierre-Emmanuel J.
19. Anne-Geneviève J.
20. Louise A.
21. Clémentine A.
22. Marie-Nelson J.
23. Anthonin J.
24. Marin J.
25. Gabriel J.
26. Rémi G.
27. Adrien G.
28. Fanny G.
29. René G.
30. Jacqueline
31. Geneviève G.
32. Jacques G.
33. André C.
34. Philippe C.
35. Marc C.
36. Karyne B.
37. Raphaël C.
38. Lauriane C.
39. Mathis C.
40. Joëlle
41. Séverine
42. Mehdi
43. Eliès
44. Géraldine+1
45. Carole+1
46. Aude A.
47. Célia B.+1
48. Anaïs de V.
49. Paul
50. Liam
51. Jérémy A.
52. Hortense A.
53. Jonathan de V.
54. Marion de V.
55. Ambre
56. Elona de V.
57. Jahana de V.
58. Marley de V.

Amies:

1. Laura Z. +1
2. Tania R.+1
3. Eva G. (+Kéliane et Aélia)
4. Lucie C.+1
5. Elodie B.+1
6. Sarah Gils+1
7. Salomé B.
8. Anna E.+1
9. Ciara
10. Camille G.
11. Aurore P.(+1 avec Enora et Ewan)
12. Judith
13. Louise D.(+1 avec Jeanne)
14. Louise F.(+1 avec Pierre et Suzanne)
15. Solène W.
16. Héloïse (+1 avec ?)
17. Alexia+1

Amis:

1. Ivan B.+1
2. Bachir F.+1
3. Dorian H.+1
4. Miles L.-C.+1
5. Yannick B.
6. Melvyn E.
7. Florentin T.
8. Mathurin D.+1
9. Nicolas M.
10. Olivier V.P.+1
11. Fabien B.+1
12. Harry B.
13. Anthony P.
14. Ludovic M.+1
15. Olivier J.+1
16. Florent C.+1
17. Geoffrey L.

Being realistic I'll never get married...with all those people...Let's just say I'll have a huuuge party then, as fake wedding..and as a real one, let's with the future..

Dear Quentin..no

Dear Mister Tarantino,

I'm sitting on the sofa with my dad, like we do most of the evenings. The sofa is small but we both lay our legs on the stupid ikea table in front of us. My dad watches TV while I'm having my last cigaret. Sometimes we speak about movies. Tonight I'm complaining about recent french movies being all about love and couples, cheatting, or smoking, or naked, being gay or lesbian, it's always about love and blablabla...I'm asking him, well, after Amelie what do we have here in this country as a real good movie, and he's like "Hey, we've got Dupontel.." and I can't count Dupontel cos he's my favourite french director...and then we talk about The Artist but none of us actually watched it..eventually we are caught by the TV screen and I'm thinking of you so I say:

"Dad, you know sometimes I imagine the day I'm going to meet Quentin Tarantino and I get really scared cos I don't know if I'll be able to speak... and if I don't meet him before I die, I believe I'll die sad.

- why don't you write him a letter then? You do know how to write, don't you?"

27 years old, 28 next monday, and I hadn't thought about that ever. Surely cos I was having some kind of fantasy that one day I'd meet you in the middle of nowhere, you'd see me and we would fall in love (now you're wondering why I'm complaining about french movies being all about love when I'm a fairy myself)...we sure got some kind of huge ego somewhere, can't deny it.

So I ran up my bedroom and grabbed a pen and a piece of any paper on my desk. Starting to write I realize I couldn't make sense at all in all the things I could think of saying. I am not even convinced you're actually going to read it. But I don't want to fall into the "grab his attention" shiiite people gives to be noticed. And by writting you up front is the equivalent of doing exactly that. So what should I do? Keep hoping I'll meet you eventually and believe it with all my heart cos that's the only thing I really seek or do something about it...like writing a fuckin letter. 

It's all about honesty isn't it? Being true to yourself. I could tell you about my life, my old times waiting at the Mezz in Dublin hoping if there was a bar you'd pick if you were in Ireland it would be that one, or the fact that I'm a stupid french woman still studying Cinema and working on a theses about how you picked and treated women in your movies... I could tell you I would love to meet you to interview you about that, or because I would sooo love to write your biography myself by being your confident...and hey! Here I said it. But the truth is I want to meet you because I feel like I can understand you and that maybe then... you could understand me. For who I am.

I've never felt understood. My love stories are messy as F**. I lost someone a long time ago and couldn't built something after that. I spent my all life thinking that world wasn't for me. And that it was way too unfair to actually care. With your movies and I mean all of them (wait.. except for Reservoir Dogs I promise myself I wouldn't see in case one day there will be no more Quentin Tarantino movies to watch...) I felt relieved...because I felt like I wasn't alone after all.

This is so dramatic, I sound pathetic dammmn, dunno whatelse to say now.

I wanna do something, ONE thing, before I die (therefore before you die too! hehe) it's to meet you. Actually seat somewhere and talk. Whatever the subject, whatever if you end up not liking me or being bored, I just want to look into your eyes and see.

And then I'll ask for the moon.

Lucile

 

 

 

 

I just can't believe I've told him. I did it. It could have taken me months to admit it to myself. But WOLO. I stopped in front of him before to leave and I blew it out, everything unfolded and when the flow finally left the room, he said :  "I'm sorry."

He had told me before, only because I asked him clearly chosing words not for him to escape the question, that he didn't fancy me. That he thought I had understood it. How could I have understand when he was looking at me this way? Is it just new to him? Was he just protecting himself? Why is everybody telling us that something is going on between us?

I was following my instinct and my knowledge, so far, on men's behavior. And what it looked like was that he likes me but was too damn afraid to accept it himself.

BUT, it's like a game for him, I'm some kind of unknown specimen flattering his ego, filling his lack of exaltation, being funny, turning around him and satisfying is tendency to egocentrism. Same game I let myself play years ago with a guy from school I had huge admiration for. Is this love? Was I right to tell him? 

At that stage, I just need to stick to the fact that he chooses to tell me he didn't feel the same way. So I started the "moving on process". Only a day goes by and here, he is telling me, out of nowhere, he's happy to see me and other littles things that made me think "Hey! He does like me!". But he's like a serie of waves, going way above his head and falling way under his feet. He probably realised he said too much and went back miles behind. Is it cos he IS scared? Don't have a clue anymore.

Today is the first day for weeks we aren't exchanging some kind of stupid texts. I am wondering if I should really give up and believe him when he says I'm the 1% of women he will never be attracted to. Too stupid, too crazy, too hysterical. I can't be weak tough. I'm not gonna text him, plus, he has been really out of consideration of my own feelings lately and... I can't just laugh about it.

Will I move on? I have to. I always said when you meet someone who matches you it has to be/feel simple. With him it's a challenge. He's not reachable so I'm going buldozer. When too strong/straigth doesn't work I'm trying humor, or when humor doesn't work either I'm faking to be smart. Yesterday I pretented I didn't like Houelbecq style of writing when I haven't read one book of him, or I said that before "le siècle des Lumières" there weren't many things interesting to read when I didn't have a clue of what was litterature after that.
This has to stop, I mean, if he doesn't like me as he says and isn't able to see whatelse I can offer why would I persevere.

This is just another me trying to make people like me? Or me bored trying to create some excitement? Or is this me really falling in love? 

Whatever. I'm not gonna persist to seduce a guy who can't see outside the boxe. What I really need he's a guy fighting for me for once. I probably don't worth it "smartness wise" but I kinda hope I'm not that stupid.

I'm going to hide a bit in libraries, a hand on my face and think before to see.