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art is the sex of imagination.

for more of my photography, you could try here. all the photos there have been taken by me, and I also post music (mostly instrumentals from various composers), quotes and original writing.

The day after is always the worst.

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endless.

so this is me, Oasis.

In some diner in a small town two hours away from this quiet bedroom I'm in now. Two hours away from these posters on my wall. Two hours away from that little case with a leftover pink pill in it, stowed away in another, larger box which is filled with wood chippings, dental floss, teeth-whitening gum (which is probably a scam, anyways), condoms and styrofoam casing for whatever was previously in there. Two hours away from the place where everything changed, from the place I was born, where I tried my best lived and love for the majority of my life.

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sin is honoring desire above what you know is right.

I know a lot of things.


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Mother,

The reason for everything : why I've been so cold, why I keep acting up, why I sneak around and lie, is simple. I don't want you to love me anymore, I hardly deserve it, if at all. That's all.

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I want to save you.

Even though you hurt me so much, even though I suffered so much for you, even though i've spent countless nights crying because of you, even though I drank in desperate attempts to forget you, even though you humiliated me, even though you abused me, even though you exposed me to things I'm still not ready for, even though now I'm in love with someone else who loves me...

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No more computer,

So I will be writing from my iPod. Sorry, my journals won't be as long or elaborate as I would like...

Good things : I now officially have a boyfriend, I slept over at his house, and I have never really felt that at ease with someone before.

Bad things : I sort of didn't tell my mother where I was or what I was doing and now I am grounded. And my boyfriend is leaving for 2 weeks on friday and I already miss him so much.

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it's like i'm her new nightmare, she ain't escapin'

I got very, very angry the other day. The initial reason for the anger is trivial but it made me so angry that I shouted to my mother that I have slept with someone twice my age and that she therefore had no more right to interfere in my life.

Anyways from there everything sort of went downhill, but I think there was some sort of relief from my parents because they finally knew why everything had been so wrong with me the past seven months, because no sane 30 year old would interact with someone my age the way it happened.

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On réfléchit plus tard, maintenant, il faut rêver.

I want every day to be like this summer.

Picnics. Holding hands. Stolen alcohol. Friends. Drunken sleepovers. Air kisses. Balloons. Free outdoor concerts. Weed. Avoiding parents. Camping in parks. Short shorts. Smooth legs. Photographs. Being with him. Having random people call us faggots and smiling and saying yes. Having random people call us adorable and smiling and saying yes.

Yes, this summer is beautiful. It is free. It's an endless pool of comfort and rest for my soul. And I have him. Whatever I did to deserve someone so pure, so good, is beyond me.

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Hope is a dangerous thing to lose.

My relationship with my parents is going steeply downhill.
My mom just pretty kicked me out until friday and I have until like, 3 hours to get out, so I'm going to stay at my dad's two hours away and I haven't even called him yet.

I don't even understand, I don't argue with my parents, I don't ask for anything. I guess we've just grown distant.

I should probably go now because I need to pack stuff and call my dad.

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expectations.

Je n'oublie pas. Je repense souvent à notre rencontre initiale. Tu m'as pris et il n'eut aucun besoin de déclaration. Je t'appartenais. Je me demande si je serais jamais si certain d'une chose comme je l'ai été ce jour là. Même si oui, mes instincts me tromperaient surement une deuxième fois.

I don't know how to feel most days.

Happy, because I have someone I'm comfortable with, finally. I've waited long, too long, to find something like this.

Sad, because I don't know if the feeling is legitimate.

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starving to be safe

Life is strange.

At times where you feel like you've already felt everything there is to be felt, where you think you know what people are like inside and out, the universe has a way of shattering all that.

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innocence.

I was sitting in a park with the guy I'm seeing, and we were cuddling... All of a sudden we hear a little girl say : «Aaaaw, you guys are in love!»

It makes me happy that she saw only love.

It makes me sad that as we grow up we forget that that's the only thing that counts.

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i'm in a really good mood now.

I met someone. I think I may like him.

And I'm happy about it most of the time, though it's not always the case.

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merveilleux.

Je ne sais plus trop quoi penser.

Je pourrais être optimiste, essayer de voir la beauté de la situation. Même son prénom est symbolique. L'ange de la guérison. Ma guérison. Au début, j'avais ignoré... mais je garde espoir. Peut-être. Le mot idyllique, ce mot qui me hante toutes mes nuits et tous mes jours, qui représente ma fantaisie la plus profonde, pourrait peut-être se manifester dans la réalité.

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The ends of your body are not where you end, no - you are endless.

I don't even know what to write here anymore.

I've realized that I'm the same as everyone else. I have fallen victim to routine. Identical weeks repeat themselves. I'm tired of being a slave to them. School. Meals. Saturday fun. Sunday hangover. I console myself by thinking that summer is soon, two weeks only. But after that, more routine, until that is all that's left. Endless numbered days.

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