j'ouvre un dernier carton qui trainait. dedans je retrouve mes carnets de corentin cariou. j'ouvre et je me relis. il y a plein de petits mots gribouillés tard le soir, probablement ivre. dont celui-là, qui je pense date de mars 2011. je sais pas, ça m'a étonnée, je n'ai aucun souvenir d'avoir écrit ça.

my heart is made of thousands hearts.

comme une grand-mère vous ménage toujours une place chez elle, je conserve toujours une place dans mon coeur pour chaque personne que j'aime et que j'ai aimé.

j'en ai trop je crois alors je les distribue à qui veut, à qui va. parfois je vide le stock. je suis à crédit. quelqu'un me renflouera. 

combien de vies vivras-tu à mon côté ? combien de vies resteras-tu dans mes pensées ? combien de vies me tiendras-tu la main ? combien de vies vivra mon coeur dans le tien ?

combien de vies un passé peut-il subsister ? combien de vies un souvenir peut-il persister ? combien de vies un fantôme peut-il hanter ? combien de vies un coeur peut-il endurer ?

is silence really charming? i'm wondering why it is all about silence. even when i'm flirting i noticed it's better not to say anything. use your eyes, speak with them. use your smile, speak with it. but don't speak. i met two guys lately. two guys really different.

with one, we talked a lot, it was really interesting and comforting, i felt like a connection. we wanted to know more about each other. but time flies when you're talking and kissing and dancing and drinking and then, the night was over. then nothing happened. like we badly trespassed the silent line. and now, a couple of days later, i'm a bit sad because it seems that nothing more's gonna happen with him. (meaning no second date)

with the other one, i barely told him my name and nothing else. it was thrilling, surprising and i felt light to do whatever i want without any consequences. the night never stopped because we stayed together without trying to realize what we were doing. i felt happy and not anxious about anything. like we didn't trespass the silent line. and now, a couple of days later, something is happening. (meaning second date soon)

so, i should say: it's better to shut up and you will enjoy it more? i can't believe it, even if half of what i say is meaningless, i wanna talk, i love to talk and i can be pretty good at talking as much as i'm at listening to.

i'm a sharer and i will share. fuck silence, fuck secrets. i'm not living in a silent movie because as soon as old filmmakers managed to add sounds in it, they did!

How to define strangeness of your life? I mean I like strangeness, I think I prefer strangeness because it sort of gives me a feeling of being and/or feeling special. But why do I need to feel special?

Love. I guess it comes from love. Yes, again.

Being loved by someone means that this person finds you special. Special is so much subjective anyway. Well does that mean if no one loves you, you cannot feel special? I guess that's what bothers me. I'm my own mirror and I have to judge and face me by myself.

I'm now used to loneliness, whereas I never thought I could be. I have built a way of being my mirror without being so much hard on my self (and I know I'm quite lucky because it is not so easy). What did I do, well I simply gave myself some free time to reborn, to create a new way to fit to life. I enjoyed it a lot, and I managed to do it twice already. But anyway, once you resurrected, what are you supposed to do? Die again?

Is that a vicious circle I'm living in? Crossing paths, meeting people, kissing strangers, waiting for phone calls, checking inbox, hoping and dreaming, wondering and doubting, deploring and giving up, weeping and missing, burying and mourning, resurrecting and starting again.

What makes me like this? Am I these kind of person? And what kind of person is that supposed to be? Why am I sometimes considered as a girl who sleeps and gets around whereas I definitely don't think myself like that. No, I don't have any problem to have sex. Yes, I have some difficulties to have a relationship. Does it have a real connection? I do know a lot of people would answer yes. Same kind of people would say as well that you can't find the right person in a bar. Well, I'm in a bar as well and I can be the right person, right mum?

What makes a choice a choice? A consequence or a hazard? How much my life defines me, or is that me who defines my life? I don't deny my responsibilities, but there must be life parts that we don't completely decide otherwise culpability and fears would destroy everything.

Still, in my relationships, I have been living similar experiences for a while and I really wonder about my responsibilities in there. Is that kind of a mature state of mind to start thinking we are responsible about everything that happens into our life?

So question is why am I living dead end relationships since 4 years?

Some would say “be thankful for what you got”. In that case, I would agree and I'm really thankful for some men I have met. But who can help me to get rid of my eternal nostalgia?

Some would say “you didn't find the right person yet”. But what if I already did? I mean I cried like a baby 2 days ago watching “Sweet and Lowdown” (Woody Allen) when Emmet Ray (Sean Penn) comes back to Hattie (Samantha Morton) and finds out that she finally made her life without him.

Some would say “you don't really want to commit”. Well, that's the closest theory I guess. But I don't like it. I thought many times I was ready to commit. Maybe I was not.

Well let's start with a bit of my story. I have been living in Paris for 6 years.

I moved to Paris in 2006 with my boyfriend, let's call him Ts, and when we got separated I stayed in a crazy colocation for 3 years. 3 years in a relationship and 3 years as single. Sounds adventurous, isn't it?

For some reason, my ex has been kicking out of his flat at the same time as i decided to leave Paris. As we are from the same city, we did rent a truck together and brought all our stuff together to... let's call it BG.

What a feeling. We came to Paris together, then we broke up, but we kept contact (yes I'm a keeper), and then strangely we have to leave Paris at the same time. Yes I see a sign, don't you? Well it is a sign, except that he has a new girlfriend. I had a couple of boyfriends myself, but nothing really worked out (bastards). And mysteriously Ts kept on being secretly the only one for me, but only in my dream of being adult one day (later, maybe).

What was my point? Ah yes, why I decided to leave Paris.

Well first of all, I think I decided not to dream anymore. Enough is enough. Enough of the dirty crowded subway. Enough of spending all your money in everything who can make you forget how creepy your life is. Enough of a job where you are nothing. Enough of not cooking anymore. Enough of tiny flat, tiny elevators, tiny restaurant and bars, tiny seats... Enough of being thousands of people doing the same thing at the same time. Enough of indifference. Enough of me.

I wanted more simplicity, more freedom, more happiness. The only answer I found was to leave.

Don't get me wrong Paris is beautiful and fucking alive, and I know I will miss it. I have spent there the best years of my life so far. I have been living amazing experiences, meeting people that I will love for ever. Crazy life.

This is it, the end of Paris. I quit my job, I left my flat (the pic has been taken the last evening at my flat). I had at least 10 leaving parties. I said good bye to the same people 2 or 3 times. Being emotional is exhausting. But guess what is the worst? Family. We are very independent in my family. As this has been one of the biggest decisions of my life, I was expecting a lot of support. I had none. I had more support from my boss than from my parents. Come on, is this real life? Does that mean being an adult? Crap.