Trees hadn't changed since we walked in july to take the subway on a mid summer afternoon. It was my birthday and I wasn't feeling any delight. Details begun to spoil my life on, details about couple, details about food. I was beginning to erase myself slowly, and at this time I'll never know how far I'll go with this. You never know on which point you'll stop, still death, or alas, still something else. I did not want to think about something else. Instead, I was still trying to write my life like if I was afraid of losing everything. Especially the other one.
I took the 81 to go to the university at 6am. It was still night. For one week I experimented what it feels like to be rejected from the city centre. I always hated those peripheries, especially this one, who was bringing me such memories. As the hippodrome with those big white plastic roofs on the book fest: the first day we met again after we broke up. Pork and milk was shown, a documentary about orthodox jewish transgressions. I wasn't able to imagine the coincidence: few month after, I mean right now, I'm not eating meat and I avoid anything with milk. I ended my week at Parilly tired and stuck into sadness: one month of examinations, my insomniac thoughts, the therapy, everything was, every thing's still hard those times. Inselvini is always telling me I don't have to prove things to myself, but I cannot help. It's like I'm culprit all the time for being this fucking one and only, managing to break this vision, being perfection. Always perfection, and appearance.
We went out to party on the same road of Saint-Vincent. The Life can wait was full of red-hair teens and very young men. I was hanging around with Lucas the bisexual blue eyes, Alison the beautiful girl with only one arm, a lesbian addicted to Burberry and parties, a little black girl named Limia who loves role playing games and Hubert whose a very bad DJ. Our fucking team drank vodka and danced all night. I was feeling very sick. We sat at 5am on the docks and talked about ourselves: Lucas' adventurous love life, how fun It could be to be a vampire, how fun It could be to study at the Sorbonne's. I didn't tell anyone I was thinking to give my candidacy on the prestigious university. Inselvini's right, I'm always looking for higher. The fact is I really want to quit the city, quit those docks, quit those streets.
My last training lessons done, as the bus was running besides the park for the last time, I swear myself to never go back to Parilly, never go back to the book fest, never go back to the calm and sometimes sunny house upon the hill.
I took the 81 to go to the university at 6am. It was still night. For one week I experimented what it feels like to be rejected from the city centre. I always hated those peripheries, especially this one, who was bringing me such memories. As the hippodrome with those big white plastic roofs on the book fest: the first day we met again after we broke up. Pork and milk was shown, a documentary about orthodox jewish transgressions. I wasn't able to imagine the coincidence: few month after, I mean right now, I'm not eating meat and I avoid anything with milk. I ended my week at Parilly tired and stuck into sadness: one month of examinations, my insomniac thoughts, the therapy, everything was, every thing's still hard those times. Inselvini is always telling me I don't have to prove things to myself, but I cannot help. It's like I'm culprit all the time for being this fucking one and only, managing to break this vision, being perfection. Always perfection, and appearance.
We went out to party on the same road of Saint-Vincent. The Life can wait was full of red-hair teens and very young men. I was hanging around with Lucas the bisexual blue eyes, Alison the beautiful girl with only one arm, a lesbian addicted to Burberry and parties, a little black girl named Limia who loves role playing games and Hubert whose a very bad DJ. Our fucking team drank vodka and danced all night. I was feeling very sick. We sat at 5am on the docks and talked about ourselves: Lucas' adventurous love life, how fun It could be to be a vampire, how fun It could be to study at the Sorbonne's. I didn't tell anyone I was thinking to give my candidacy on the prestigious university. Inselvini's right, I'm always looking for higher. The fact is I really want to quit the city, quit those docks, quit those streets.
My last training lessons done, as the bus was running besides the park for the last time, I swear myself to never go back to Parilly, never go back to the book fest, never go back to the calm and sometimes sunny house upon the hill.
