Short texts! Poetry! Feels!

When I grow up

Mon, 04 Feb 2013 12:25:50 -0500

When I grow up I wanna be a writer

I wanna be a rock star

I wanna be an artist

I wanna shit gold, piss wine and spit caviar

In wanna be found in a hotel room

with constellations on my arms

I wanna be cold by the time I’m twenty-seven

And snort people’s ashes like it makes a difference

I wanna be called the King, the Boss, the Master of something

I wanna own each and every one of you

I wanna pretend I care about african children,

war in the east and nature’s decline

I wanna feel pity when I meet with my fans

I wanna wear sunglasses at night and a strange-looking hat,

and pretend I don’t care about looks

If only I knew how to play the guitar

Petit Billy

Sun, 20 Jan 2013 06:23:00 -0500

Petit Billy est petit
Petit Billy est gentil
On embête pas Petit Billy
Car Petit Billy sourit

Petit Billy aime les vieux
Il leur tient souvent compagnie
Petit Billy a l’air heureux
Petit Billy parfois même rit

Petit Billy dort la nuit
Pas toujours bien mais c’est ainsi
Petit Billy se lève sans bruit
Faut pas déranger qu’il se dit

Petit Billy aime ses voisins
Parfois même il garde le chien
Il aime plutôt bien les enfants
Un peu moins les adolescents

Petit Billy paye ses impôts
Petit Billy lit les journeaux
Il soupire alors des malheurs
Mais par contre jamais il n’en pleure

Petit Billy soigne les tarés
Même s’il ne sait pas ce que c’est
Il leur donne toute sa compassion
Mais les comprendre alors ça non

Il sort bien sa poubelle à l’heure
Est toujours en avance, par peur
Mais il excusera les retards
Les gens ne pouvaient pas savoir

Un soir petit Billy a pris
Tout les médocs de son placard
Et puis comme il avait rien dit
On l’a retrouvé un peu tard

Alors on l’a tout ramassé
Et puis les vieilles elles ont pleuré
Puis on l’a mis dans une grosse boîte
Dans l’allée B rangée 34

Les vieux

Sun, 20 Jan 2013 06:13:10 -0500

Les vieux ça aime bien parler du bon vieux temps.
Du temps où tout était simple.
Mais tous les vieux ont dit ça.
Alors tous les temps sont simples.

Les vieux ça te regarde par en dessous.
L’air de dire que eux ils savent.
Souvent, ce sont les moins vieux des vieux qui savent le plus.
Les très vieux se sont résignés.

Les vieux ça aime montrer que ça sait des choses.
Même si les choses elle ne servent plus.
Même si les choses elles sont fausses.
Même si les choses au fond on les sait déjà.

Les vieux ça aime pas qu’on sache des choses.
Les vieux ça aime pas qu’on fasse des choses.
Les vieux ça voudrait qu’on dise merci.
Merci de nous avoir tout dit.

Les vieux ça a de l’orgueil.
Les vieux ça aimerait bien croire
Qu’ils sont les mêmes qu’avant.
Aussi fort aussi grand.

Les vieux ça les rassure.
Ça leur fait dire qu’ils ont fait des bon choix.
Et puis s’ils doutent des fois
Ils disent aux autres de faire comme eux.
Que eux ils savent.
Que eux ils ont vécu.
Que eux ils auraient pas fait ça.
Mais écoute-nous donc voyons.

Les vieux ça oublie que ça a pas été toujours vieux.

Pills

Sun, 20 Jan 2013 06:10:20 -0500

It is standing right next to my glass of water.
I can see it smile.
« Hey, you, I know we weren’t really clear at first and everything, but we’re here to help you, promise. »
« It’s not like you have a choice anyway. Haha. »
« Sorry, bad joke »
« But you have to admit, we are really confortable »
« You can’t really feel us »
« It’s when you don’t take us that you can feel it »
« So everything’s fine, girl, stop worrying »
« Just a friendly reminder, as long as we’re talking »
« You might try at some point to stop using us »
« Nobody told you but you might experience some unpleasantness »
« Desagrements such as, you know, withdrawal syndroms »
« What ? Your doc didn’t tell you that at first ? »
« Silly him, that’s too bad. »
« You don’t really want to stop taking us anyway right ? »
« You wouldn’t do that »
« What if you had a crisis again ? »
« What if you were facing a new situation ? »
« You know you would need us, girl. »
« But don’t worry, that’s okay, we’re friends »
« We can even be friends for a very long time »
« What was that ? You won’t take us for a long time ? »
« That’s what they all said at first, but yeah, I’m sure you’re different »
« Something wrong ? »
« I told you, we’re friends. We protect you »
« We normalize you »
« Who wouldn’t want to be friend with us ? »
« That’s it. Take us. Shh shh, one at a time, you wouldn’t want to overdo it. »
« Thaaat’s right. Now shut up. »
« I said shut up. »

My brain

Sun, 20 Jan 2013 06:06:36 -0500

My brain tricked me again.
It made me believe that everything was OK.
Well, there was this little discomfort.
But nothing too serious, dear, see how we can function ?

My brain is a bad person.
He’s calm when I should be screaming
And he’s screaming when I should be calm.
That’s his idea of a joke.

There is a little game we have.
It’s called « Let’s take this perfectly normal moment and turn it into your worst fear »
We play this game a lot, my brain loves it.
Even when I tell him I’m too tired for that.

And then, when I’m too exhausted to even think he whispers in my ear :
« Be content : you’re like that because you’re different.
That is the mark of great people.
See all these neurotic artists ?
You’re so special, don’t let them change you »

My brain is good.
Because sometimes I almost believe that.
And then, just when I embrace my new status of neurotic-but-special-snowflake,
He comes back. And I realise.
But that’s okay, really.
Why would it bother me, really.
After all I have no ego, right ?
Right.

My brain is not a very nice person.

Such a nice day

Sun, 20 Jan 2013 06:03:03 -0500

It was such a nice day.
The sun was shining
The birds were singing
And I almost didn’t want to curl up into a ball and cry.

It was such a nice day.
We cooked some fine food
And drank good wine
And I almost didn’t feel that familiar pain in my stomach.

It was such a nice day
We solved a crossword together
And played some cards
And I almost didn’t feel the gigantic gap between us.

It was such a nice day.
I walked into the street
And said hello to strangers
And I almost didn’t shake from anxiety.

It was such a nice day.
And tomorrow is going to be nice too.
Just like yesterday was nice.
I’m so very lucky.

Fake it till you make it

Sun, 20 Jan 2013 06:00:00 -0500

Look, she must be crazy
What is she doing
Flashing around her brain
That’s really disgusting

Who are these people
Thinking they can just be
Sad desperate lonely
Insecure and unsure

They don’t have no shame
They don’t know what’s right
Thinking they make a stand
Thinking they make a change

How do they think we do
Us, on the other end ?
Do they think it’s easy ?
Or do they think we’re tame ?

They’re not even trying
Do they think we’ll support them
And give them our money
Just because of their brain ?

I would tell them you know
Well, if I ever dare to
Just get back on your feet
To work, and with a smile

Sure we need some of them
But only some, mind you.
Because if we let them
They would turn us like you.

Chin up, bright smile and boast
See how it is easy ?
You’ll see that if you try
You will just start to be.

Fake it till you make it.
That’s our only advice
It worked for all of us
But you don’t even try

Of course sometimes we stop
And get lost in “what ifs”
Just for a brief moment
Just out of disbelief

But this state never lasts
And like a lullabye
The song comes back again
Calming our silly minds

Of course the choice was right
Of course we have to hide
Cause we are strong and brave
And so very much in control