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This is a more personal response to chenvictor's journal (and especially the comments following) - I wanted to keep it separate from the intellectual debate.

First, a quick recap of the Quebec school system. We have 5 years of high school, 2 years of CEGEP, and then 3 years to a bachelor's degree due to equivalencies, and from there the sky is the limit as far as degrees are concerned.

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the pool

a requiem for beauty, lost and desiccated. a requiem for the pool and the stars and for the summer and the spring.

they are all fading and it is coming, slyly, like a thief. i wish i was like them, numb and smiling so easily. the world seems such a far-off place, full of lovely things to look at and touch.

how i wish i was young again, playing in the shade of my lime tree, its fruit ripe. how i love being a child, his doll. dress me and brush my hair, play pretend with me. reality laughs too harshly.

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dieu m'a dit : "aime ton prochain".

... et si je l'aime pas?

(I deleted the journal, sorry i've been away for a few days! you're all beautiful.)

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i'm not the way that y☻u found me

i am sad because you are not around, my bad apple, my little ghost

i want to tell you stories but they'll hurt you,

so they hide beneath my bed where they can poison me instead, quietly, wishing my flesh from my bones and breaking every single one.

mon amour,
mon Calvaire,
mon Golgotha,

tu feras
une petite mort de moi.

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Is insolence beautiful?

Judge me not for what's in my coffee mug, but for what fills my whore mouth.

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l'humain, ou son insupportable condition

My thorax is buried under three tons of dreams and memories.

The saccharine virgin turned to the conveniently drunken harlot. Dressing quickly, before he can. My marble bones suffocated by a bag of warm fluid. You can't look while he fucks you, the agony in his eyes is too much.

Hiding, three months under the influence, never waking up.
Hiding, three months spent quiet, shrouded.

Naive dreams turned to dust. Wanting to be so many things but lacking ambition and talent. Resignation to the fact that life will be what it is.

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i suppose that not having many any friends is sort of sad and it kind of makes me envious of the people that do

and while i somewhat do crave to be around other people... at the same time i really don't want to be around anyone anymore.

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summer time


time        goes

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Oh, I wish I was but a doll, with you to dress me and brush my hair! The world of adults is much too bright, much too large and far too frightening.

Another 2 months and a half of stolen summer to endure, and maybe it will be worth it.

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by Clint Mansell

too tired to even write so have this

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Lying in the bathtub with all the water run out, wondering about divinity and what it might mean.

Wondering about what the future means, what I might feel in three days, what he might be feeling in three days. He would like to marry me, he says, and I think the same, but I know I will make him sick, so for now we wait while we are young. Ah, innocence and naivety - so wonderful, even if it is conscious.

Wondering about others, how much I fear them and how I don't know how I will act when they are around. So many dead minds, dying imaginations, wastes of flesh.

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All I've managed to eat in the past 48hrs is some bread... I think I am sick... And tired

I need to stop hating myself...because that makes others unhappy
But I don't know how

This is pathetic

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a personal journal

I really don't talk about my family very much on here, because I usually don't have much to say on them. I do my own thing and I don't really interact with them.

But for the past month or so, it's been almost unbearable. My mother and sister always get angry or upset when I'm seriously involved with someone, for reasons that are unclear to me. They say that it's because I get too involved, I've always had the suspicion that they're both bitter and unsatisfied with their own romantic lives.

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growing up

go to work, find your church, let your dreams die.

when home is no longer home, where do you hide? in love or emptiness?

but the vacuum is suffocating
and love is only temporary relief

clinging to temporal things makes you weak.

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like an abused cat, who won't let anything within ten feet of him.

it can tell that we are both the same, sometimes,


both howling for love like babes far from their mother's kiss.

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