..sauf qu’on n’est pas au printemps, bien entendu.
***
hier soir, extinction des feux ? 5h du matin. ce matin, donc.
guess what ? j’suis morte de fatigue.
***
J. a enfin trouv? une vanne ? me lancer, hier soir. comme c’est une fille ? la vanne facile, j’?tais ?tonn?e qu’elle ne trouve pas avant. mais en se justifiant d’user et abuser de sa nouvelle trouvaille, elle m’a lanc? : oui, mais t’es tout le temps bien, parfaite comme fille, alors bon, pour une fois que je peux te vanner… »
sur le coup, j’y ai pas trop r?fl?chi. maintenant, je me sens lisse. aussi lisse qu’une feuille de papier machine. et insipide. aussi insipide qu’une feuille de papier machine vierge. sans asp?rit?, sans rien ? quoi s’accrocher, se raccrocher. tout ce que je fais, c’est des bouts de feuilles de papier color?s, des bouts de plastique trou?s. des trucs ? accrocher. vachement interessant tout ?a. mes coups de blues, coups de gueule et coups de coeur, g?n?ralement je me les garde, tranquille au chaud. comme ?a, ?a d?range personne.
enfin bon, on va pas pleurer non plus.
***
d’ailleurs, en parlant de printemps et de trucs ? accrocher, j’ai not? ?a sur un bout de papier :
recueille mes soupirs dans le creux de tes fi?vres l?vres
que je suspende tes d?sirs au fil de mes l?vres fi?vres.

enfin, ouais, un truc comme ?a.
c’est con, ?a aurait ?t? surement plus joli en photo.
***
avec ?a, ce soir, je suis l?ch?e dans la jungle, donc pas couch?e avant 5h ? nouveau, pour une vir?e en bo?te par plaisir et obligation. et vice versa. mon expo est pr?te, reste plus qu’? vider mes cartes m?moire et charger mes films.
ne pas oublier de signer les photos, ne pas oublier de laisser mon site et email, ne pas oublier de graver ces cds, ne pas oublier de ne rien oublier.
ne pas oublier de tout oublier.
***
il est idiot ce post, quand on y pense.
quand on y pense pas aussi, d’ailleurs.
mais bon, ?a va ?tre tendu du string d’?crire quoi que ce soit d’intelligent ce soir.
je remets ani difranco ou pas ?

(parce qu’on a beau dire, un p’tit cocoon crash tous les 3 mois, c’est ce qu’on peut trouver de meilleur pour sa t?te sur le march? ? ce prix :D)

Bravely I look further than I see
Knowing things
I know I cannot be, not now
I’m so aware of where I am, but I don’t know where that is
And there’s something right in front of me and I

Touch the fingers of my hand
And I wonder if it’s me
Holding on and on to
Theories of prosperity
Someone who can promise me
I believe in me

Tomorrow I was nothing, yesterday I’ll be
Time has fooled me into thinking it’s a part of me
Nothing in this room but empty space
No me, no world, no mind, no face

Touch the fingers of my hand and tell me if it’s me
Holding on and on to
Love, what else is real
A religion that appeals to me
I believe in me

Can you turn me off for just a second, please
Turn me into something faceless, weightless, mindless, homeless
Vacuum state of peace

On and on and on and on and on and on and on and on
I believe in me
Wait for me, I’m nothing on my own
I’m willing to go on, but not alone, not now
I’m so aware of everything, but nothing seems for real and
As long as you’re in front of me then I’ll

I watch the fingers of my hands
And I’m grateful that it’s me
Holding on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on
I believe in me…

k’s choice – believe

outside it’s snowing right now.
i wrote a text yesterday called april in new york.
i wish i could leave now, but i can’t
so you know,
i’ll just watch the snow falling
down, this is march in paris…

we’re sitting on the steps of a post office, and i breathe in deeply
then the nose in my scarf, coughing, choking,
they’re all laughing
looking at the sun’s reflections that a window projects
in the street.
i get up, i put my my hands in my pockets,
looking at them, trying to listen to them,
their laughter that sounds louder than anything
in my ears.
i notice some cars, a highway
on the sidewalk. i look closer,
the cars are white, all headed towards
a puddle of dirty water, and always
a stain of light, like the pavement isn’t clean,
i dig my camera out of my bag, and i frame
the stain,
the cars, so white, so white on the dark sidewalk
the lines,
i hear their laughter and their voices,
i turn around, they’re looking at me,
they’re saying something
P. takes me by the shoulders and looks into my eyes,
i say something, i try to explain
but the words melt in my mouth,
i laugh,
i breathe in briskly, i try to find some oxygen,
P. is on orbit, J. says so urban jungle,
i turn around, stare at the cars,
then at the sky, so blue so white.

we decide to move, we walk slowly,
they’re talking too fast and i’m freezing
my ears are hot, my feet are light, like a cool breeze
we’re hungry now, and thursty,
we enters in open bars and shops,
to give our flyers,
the village is so friendly now,
i can’t focus, i try to focus,
i frame in my head the time passing
so quickly,
blue and yellow,
i can’t talk
i say i’m in a time warp,
i’m in a vision trap,
with spots and colors bouncing
irregularly in front of my eyes,
we get in, we get out, i lose their sight,
i frame in my head the time passing
so slowly,
i stare at faces, windows and empty shapes,
it’s getting harder to unglue my gaze
from the streetlights and the gutters
it all melts into some completeness
but i’m lonely and i want to close the shutters
that open to this world.
i start to panic somehow,
i’m convinced i’ll never have enough time,
time for what ?
the time is distorded, and the city is blurry,
i feel we need to get out,
i need to get out, i’m in such a hurry,
i need to run, it’s sunday,
but i don’t have the time, i don’t have the time.

at last we find a cosy place where we sit
and order breakfast.
i stay silent, like no word is ever going
to fall from my mouth
except for a joke, and they laugh ever harder,
i can’t follow their moves, their talks,
they’re too loud or i’m too quiet,
through a haze of noise and pastel colors,
i hear J. asking if i’m okay,
i flash her smile, her eyes, in my mind,
i take my camera to picture her and A.
to feel less uncomfortable,
sitting at this table, with no clear line
to follow.

we leave around seven,
for another round of bars with our flyers
i wish we could stop again,
i wish i could be in control again,
i wish i could think,
we decide ourselves for a last glass of wine
and a cigarette,
the darkness around helps me
to stop losing my grip more completely,
i stretch my legs and i’m not going to fall from the stool,
the air i breathe isn’t shaky anymore,
and maybe it’s easy for my eyes to move,
around me they’re talking busy,
slowly, my words quit stumbling between my lips
and when my drinks are finished,
i can picture myself walking on a soft mist,
i close my eyes, i focus on a point far from now,
and i breathe out,
deeply…

soundtrack : k’s choice – not an addict

ta da la lam da dam da la laaaa
la la la lam da dam da la laaaaa
la la la lam da dam da la laaaaa…

j’ai fini de pr?parer les photos de P.K.

ta da la lam da dam da la laaa…