Dark horses running in my mind. Then from head to toe. Dark horses smoking tasteless cigarettes. So all the shrinks think that I must control my impulses, that i’m very unnecessarily impulsive. Reasons lying beneath my mistakes. What is a mistake anyway? I see a boy making love to me while we listen to Bach. The room is dim. Wait, that’s an old story, that’s not me. Who is me? This me is not planning to sleep tonight. But what if the next me decides that she should in the morning. A dying man downstairs. His moans kill me as he is being killed by whatever his disease is. I don’t want to die in longtemps while i’m in pain. Plus i seriously don’t want a smartass making my dying a topic of her writing. I sense an emerging need of escaping, by what substance, does not matter. Impulse, please be calm, you will not call him tonight, he cannot come over and fuck you. Impulse, be calm, me don’t need a get away. You need to stay in your borders. I draw a chalk borderline for you. Impulse listen me needs to graduate, me needs a job, me needs to say “hey you old bastard, you can’t control me with your money anymore, i’m earning my own.” Why are there old bastards? Whey do they fuck with us? Why can’t they just be proud of us? Why do we care? Pourquoi JE m'en fiche?

Mad monkeys shouting out loud: Meme. Mad monkeys in cages, smoking. I smell weed, which i lack maintenant. I smell alcohol in my veins, smoke in my hair and shit in my belly button. Belly buttons always smell like ass. Belly buttons pierced, belly buttons tattooed. Nobody says a goddamn thing. Bellybuttons are by products, from the adaptation of the umbilical cord. Belly buttons are sad, very very sad creatures.

White horses running in my mind. My mind is a jungle. Jungles, which i loath. I miss the calm stress of Paris. I miss going insane when i could not comprehend what people say. A foreigner i was. A foreigner i am. Does not matter which country. Which city. Which community. A foreigner is who i’ll be. This shrink today, she said i have no confidence in my self. No, i have self-esteem, but no confidence. How the fuck am i supposed to trust myself when i don’t even know my favorouite meal. Je deteste les fruits mais i like pears. I like the sea, la mer est calme. Unsound is la mer. You could not hear this dying man’s cries for help in the sea. You could not hear Virginia talking in the sea. Or could you? Did you Virginia? Have you ever happened to talk to me while I tried to fall asleep underwater? Have you tried to trick me using that twisted mind of yours? My mother, i think she has met you Virginia. I think she has met you in a box of pills, in cold hospitals.

Hospital, arf, je deteste! La maison dieu, dear dieu, what am i supposed to call you? Do you really heal? Do you really? Are you really mon dieu? I don’t like sharing you know, i can get extremely jealous. What i hate sharing the most is the attention. You have to be focused on me. Moi seulement. This is insane, amour, why do you keep staying? How do you put up with this? Je suis desole tout le temps, je suis mal, mais tu exiges rester. Maybe that’s why, while i was crying in your arms today, i said “my shrink says i should admit that life is boring and accept it like that, but i resist to admit that life if boring”, life ain’t boring my love. Cooking for you, j’aime. Cleaning is my obsession, so that aint boring either. I don’t like studying but i draw pictures near the pages. Family reunions, graduations, funerals, packing suitcases, these are all boring but i find a way of making them not boring. How dare can she say that life is boring? How dare can she say we are boring? How dare can she confront me saying that maybe i’m not so very serious in this relationship? “Tu es ennuyeuse!” i should have yelled at her face and leave that fucking room. I trust in us. Lies, mistakes. What is done is done. I HAVE TO think they did not happen, or else, je peux pas vivre. In your arms, i cried today, you held me close, my Leonard, he came home yesterday early. Because i was alone and going insane again. He came home with food, ice cream and a white rose. I dislike flowers, but this had a meaning. So i decided not to eat it. My Leonard, he knows me, more than i think he does. My Leonard, he’ll catch me if i fall, but, he’ll leave me, if i slip.