50.000 Words.

Having a writig buddy is like:
-Eating ethereal yet plausible rainbow clouds and turning them into words.
-Having within one's inner furnace a phoenix as fuel that unleashes an outlandish inspiration.
-Understanding the meaning behind sentences such as this: "déjà que le nombre des mixtilles est pâle et que je t'en trouve un goût bien silencieux, toi qui avais l'odeur si tapageuse tant tes larmes sucrées te restaient prisonnères à pourir à l'intérieur".

I proclaim officially that my writer's food is Path's lemon cake.

Nothing can fill me more because of such an overload of gratitude right now.

So, I just want to remember the salvation it brings me to deliver every word and to read every word. 

To never forget and to commit.

Thank you.

The Old and Lonely Tree

Once upon a time was there
An old and lonely tree
By him folks have come and gone
And he was standing still

No carved names no dance and prayers
Took his sorrows away
He dreamed to have all lives and hearts
And own them on his own

Children's laughter, tears of joy
New born babies, too
Up he swallowed birds and bees
To fill his lonely soul

Now that he is all alone
The old and lonely tree
No more song is in the wind
And the tree is standing still

Once upon a time was there
And old and lonely tree
The clear and blue sky up above
And he was standing still

Shiny snowflakes, rain in spring
Could never ease his soul
He dreamed to have the whole wide world
And own it on his own

Oceans, mountains, flowers in white
The sun the moon and stars
Even the shadows swallowed he
To fill his empty soul

Now that he is all alone
The old and lonely tree
No more day or night exists
And the tree is standing still

Who can I kid, This song makes me shed some tears.  Once upon a time, I didn't know another Kaiba than Seto. Once upon a time T_T.

The Blues Brothers

On watch today.
My heart could take a chance but my two feet can't find the way.

Ergo

Study History.

Next time, we eat those who are doomed to repeat history because they necglect it.

Study history, motherfuckers. We're gonna need you.

EMT

No More :)

Write-O-Rama Jams

A thing of Beauty

One of these lines that make the series better than the book.

Ugly Boy - Die Antwoord

This Be The Verse

 They fuck you up, your mum and dad.  
    They may not mean to, but they do.  
They fill you with the faults they had
    And add some extra, just for you.


But they were fucked up in their turn
    By fools in old-style hats and coats,  
Who half the time were soppy-stern
    And half at one another’s throats.


Man hands on misery to man.
    It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
    And don’t have any kids yourself.

NaNoWriMo

This is the purrrrr-fect context to start a writing project.

Thanks, M.

National November Writing Month

Which reminds me of the old days of the Gorillaz craze while drafting the raw frame of a writing project.