{"id":97,"date":"2004-01-22T19:02:07","date_gmt":"2004-01-22T18:02:07","guid":{"rendered":"\/?p=97"},"modified":"2004-01-22T19:02:07","modified_gmt":"2004-01-22T18:02:07","slug":"pink-bullet-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/2004\/01\/22\/pink-bullet-2\/","title":{"rendered":"pink bullet #2"},"content":{"rendered":"

home at last. i press play and lay back on my chair.
\na long shiver.<\/p>\n

I was just bony hands as cold as a winter pole<\/em><\/p>\n

outside the night has fallen, and i feel like i’ve seen none of the faint daylight all day long. <\/p>\n

Over the ramparts you tossed the scent of your skin and some foreign flowers<\/em><\/p>\n

i keep in mind that it won’t be long anymore until i’m finally free. i count the days flowing slowly away like the thin notes of a distant guitar flowing inside my warm space. <\/p>\n

tied to a brick, sweet as a song, the years have been short but the days were long.<\/em><\/p>\n

a very short break, like a breath. and it starts again. i keep holding my breath when i walk under the rain. even the rain is pale these days, even when it cowardly stays in the grey hazy skies. <\/p>\n

when our kite lines first crossed, we tied them into knots and to finally fly apart we had to cut them off.<\/em><\/p>\n

i think about a sentence that i’ve read on L’Excentr?e’s comments<\/a> : \u00ab\u00a0true friends are lonely people who accept each other\u00a0\u00bb.
\ni’m not sure to know what it means, but i find this definition beautiful. beautiful enough to make me wonder…<\/p>\n

Since then it’s been a book you read in reverse so you understand less as the pages turn<\/em><\/p>\n

meanwhile, i keep having good news, and read every one of the city lights as a sign. a sign of what, i’m not sure. it’s like you arrive on a subway platform just when the subway you have to take arrives, too, and it happens everytime for a few days. no matter what, you’d take it as a sign. <\/p>\n

the years have been short but the days go slowly by, two loose kites falling from the sky drawn to the ground and an end to flight.<\/em><\/p>\n

it ends with the long moan of an electronic organ. my tea is cold by now.
\noh well…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

home at last. i press play and lay back on my chair. a long shiver. I was just bony hands as cold as a winter pole outside the night has fallen, and i feel like i’ve seen none of the faint daylight all day long. Over the ramparts you tossed the scent of your skin […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-97","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-unfinished-thoughts"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/97","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=97"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/97\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=97"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=97"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/julietterobert.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=97"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}