_______________
PRESS THE SPACE BUTTON
All ur homies expect u to do well,
I’ve been deeper & deeper, therefore my dreams replaced words quite more & more often, to the point I couldn’t speak anymore
Should we check ourselves around?
Ain’t nobody really checking on ur mental health including yourself?
Or only ur physical health?
What a shame the games we play to maintain our status in The Hunger Games
& u keep turning ur personal hurdles into a rabbit & a turtle race
How’s the chase going knowing u’re the only one to race?
That playing « Super Sane » is an understatement when this kind of transformation require SPACE & STOPS
Letting everyone into ur space giving them a place to lie their burdens
Ur sanity is making me nervous, cuz u too busy serving sympathy to everyone else but ur own psyche
& now u might be less likely to save the world if u’re too busy fighting Divine timing by disguising those wounds u have,
yet instead of healing & visualizing Paradox being into your own soul
u keep looking for someone else to blame,
u keep looking for someone else to explain why Equivalent Exchange don’t apply to u,
why your peace of mind won’t reconcile with u
God complex with no God inside of u
but u want ur disciples to decipher u
how apathetic playing the victim
when ur pain is self inflicted, how passive aggressive
& now the Joker’s being afraid of the hand he’s been dealt with
How unimpressive
I declare war on ur intentions, on those excuses, I SEE YOU, they don’t sound absolute, only half true
Yes I see you’ve been using ur childhood traumas as daily mantras & have the nerve to look at Karma as if she’s doing something wrong, as if she’s the problem
All right all right…?
AS THE YEAR WANES
As the year wanes & its final hours slip like sand through trembling fingers, a strange alchemy stirs my soul
A bittersweet mélange of emotions too intricate to name
Nostalgia whispers in tender tones, weaving a tone of luminous memories, each a testament to life’s astonishing beauty & fleeting nature
Gratitude swells like a quiet tide, a recognition of the infinite blessings scattered along my path, pain was worth it all, their presence shining & humbling
There, too, the capacity to forgive emerges
A gentle unbinding of old wounds, a cleansing that leaves the spirit lighter
Yet, amidst it all, a shadow walks beside me, the silent specter of the unknown
It does not speak, but its presence is felt
A flicker of trepidation about the steps yet to be taken, the futures yet to be forged
And so, in this delicate balance of past & future, that don’t even exist, joy & unease,
I linger, suspended in the quiet poetry of the year’s closing breath.
Let’s welcome what 2025 brings on the table
Instead of butterflies in your stomach, look for someone who soothes your nervous system.
QUI SOMMES NOUS?
On veut se souvenir.
Ce que nous appelons la memoire,
Ce sont des pièces verrouillées.
Ces pièces ne datent pas d un passé. Elle remontent jusqu au commencement. Au commencement de toute chose.
Cet instant, est le commencement.
Il faut chercher la vérité comme l oxygène qu on respire. Elle est partout en nous.
Nous ne la regardons pas. Pourtant tout est à l intérieur de nous
Que recherchons nous?
La large majorité ne pourra jamais y répondre.
La réponse à cette question, devient ensuite la plus grande aventure d une existence.
Ce que nous appelons notre « vie », n’est qu’un instant, que nous vivons tous en même temps, a travers des yeux différents, pourtant par cet être complet, qui s est perdu avec le temps, que nous tentons de retrouver, cet être vivant sur toutes les dimensions et ce, avec une infinité de possibilités.
Tel un puzzle, comprendre celles-ci, nous amène vers le Soi.
Vous pensez vouloir une voiture? Une renommée? Faire les soldes? Montrer un faux soi afin d être aimé? Un bateau? Un mariage? Une robe? Des vacances?
Non.. vous cherchez, nous cherchons qui nous sommes en réalité, par tous les moyens possibles sans même en être conscient pour ceux se définissant par leur carte de visite ou leurs pensées dictées par le monde extérieur .
Le chemin conscient vers le Soi, est un chemin destructeur (ego), mais élévateur (Dieu - Conscience)
Dans un monde confus et perdu au milieu de mensonges et distractions, de corruption, à la quête d un bonheur éternel, inexistant car il n est qu état comme un autre, dans un monde où le paraître reigne, dans un monde ou l humain s est donné le droit d être le centre du monde abusant de tout pour son propre confort, démontrant à quel point son identité lui est inconnue,
Il devient impératif de se tourner à l intérieur & projeter dans le monde, une vérité guérisseuse.
L'EPILOGUE, PARTIE 1
Je dirais que la partie la plus difficile afin de terminer un roman, une histoire, ou un livre, n' est certainement pas la manière que l'on a d écrire ceux-ci, mais de manière honnête: l’audace de trouver le bon épilogue
L’un des problèmes auxquels on fera face, ne sera pas celui du prologue, ni de la succession du logos, ni meme de notre capacité a mettre en mots des emotions qui vont bien au-dela de ce qui est du monde du concret, ni meme l histoire complete de notre vie dans les moindres recoins
La definition meme de chaque mot, et de chaque chose, l’annihile
Des lors, la remise en question meme d un roman entier, lors de la phase la plus difficile de tous nos écrits, concerne bien l’epilogue
C’est a dire, choisir le moment ou on decide de mettre un point final a notre histoire, et plus particulièrement la façon dont on veut qu’elle finisse
Est ce qu'on decide qu il 'aut mieux utiliser une fin ouverte et suspendue, ou alors une fin amère, comme cela arrive inévitablement dans la réalité
En ce qui concerne le fait d’annihiler toutes choses par nos mots et definitions, memes mots, qui pourtant, durant des années, nous donnait dans de liberté, nous poussent a nos retranchements lors d un epilogue, et meme a nous demander, si la veritable response ne se trouve pas dans la destruction meme de ce travail complet
Et peut être que la, se trouve notre liberté
La difference entre ce que nous désirons et ce que nous redoutons, est a peine plus épaisse qu un cil
La vie est ce qu'il reste après chaque separation, après chaque deuil, après chaque au revoir, après chaque blessure, après chaque mort
Nous avons besoin que quelque chose se finisse, se termine, aujourd’hui, afin que ceci meme, puisse ne jamais, ni se finir ni se terminer, mais perdurer a jamais en nos coeurs
Un fantome, dont nous nous rappellerons les doux souvenirs, ainsi que les doux regrets qui suivront
Tous ces details, auxquels nous pourrons repenser, pour attester que oui, on nous a bien donner un jour, une autre possibilité
L'EPILOGUE, PARTIE 2
ʟᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛᴇʀᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴇꜱᴛ ʙɪᴇɴ, ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇ ᴅɪꜱᴀɪᴛ ᴋᴀꜰᴋᴀ, ʟ’ᴀꜱꜱᴀᴜᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴇ ᴛᴏᴜᴛᴇꜱ ʟᴇꜱ ꜰʀᴏɴᴛɪᴇʀᴇꜱ
Les mots, nous donnent, le droit, ou pas,a la liberté, a qui sait les utiliser, les façonner, les rendre vivants, ou finalement les mener, nous memes a notre propre prison
La fascination que nous avons sur les choses, que nous n avons pas vécu, de la façon dont nous idéalisons nos pensées, de ce qui aurait pu être ou n est pas advenu, ou de celles qui nous empêchent de vivre, ou a l inverse, de toutes celles que nous avons pu matérialiser, mais resteront a jamais sujet aux interprétations de tous les autres lecteurs, selon leur paradigme de vie selon leur propre prisme
Est ce que tout ceci rend il, en definitive, hommage, au reel partage, authentique, vulnerable et pur que nous avions en notre coeur a chaque seconde, a chaque mouvement de notre plume?
Ce qui nous rend heureux, de manière certaine, ce sont toutes ces possibilités que nous aurons eu le courage d explorer au cours de notre vie
C’est beau d’apprendre à recommencer »
NEVER AGING
I dont age, I just dont believe in time (speaking by experience there), and I still have the magic inside of a kid, with some kind of wisdom and folly above, after all the shit I did or went through in my life.
I m 39, which shocks many, my only secret is here and now.
Life isn’t linear, I m not stressed by a future or a past that doesn’t exist.
I live now.
End of story
Ps: it was actually NEVER about my lifestyle, from what I ate or not, from my practice or not, it was ONLY by my mindset, mindset, where I join Einstein there: « time is an illusion », or Freud: I live many lives, wether it’s this dream or an other. Awaken or asleep, I know I m ALWAYS dreaming.
And for those who think « feeling » or being emotional is a curse: you missed the whole ride. The whole ride of what we call LIFE. You missed it all. It was always here and now if you allow it. FEEL IT ALL, show courage. Put the monkey mind in the closet for a while.
For the better and the worse, everything and all answers are here and now.
Love and forgiveness is always here for who wants to feel it for real. Come back to your breath, to your body, to your instinct, to your heart, to your truth, and in the present moment.
Never aging, cause living for real. Go try the unknown.
Never born, never died.
No one is good or bad. We are all everything we see in the world. I had this sensation of not being understood for a long time. And one day I clicked. I changed MY reaction to some events and situations or conversations and all the outside changed at the very same time.
We complain about the behavior of an other, yet we never wonder what is in us that attracts it. It’s never about others. It’s all on us and taking responsibility for what we feel, position ourselves and put clear boundaries.
That was a huge work for me. Yet worth it.
EMPATHS AND NARCISSISTS
The attraction comes from the same wound
Yet I love to analyze myself & I realized that being an empath doesn’t make us naturally kind & understanding
Being an empath is a coping mechanism same as being a narcissist is an other coping mechanism
The narcissist will control it all & try to feel worthy by playing with extremely emotional people (cause they don’t feel anything) & will enjoy to destroy them, in order to feel alive & superior, or feeling a power over others in order to fill their own emptiness
Yet we often see the empath as the victim. Yet the empath isn’t born empath. He became an empath also as a coping mechanism from childhood
An empath has been raised in a atmosphere that was dangerous to him & where he never felt listened nor respected as a human being
The empath often come from toxic families where he always had to adapt & tried to not be hurt nor diminished & the only way for him to survive, wasn’t to attack the others but to understand, observe & feel them SO well that he could manage to love the close people who hurt him , despite the mistreatment they had to endure. In order to not suffer neither
As everyone speaks about narcissists, I d like to raise awareness about the fact that being an empath isn’t a gift. It’s also a coping mechanism
People see me as a gifted person cause I can read in the mind of people & I can feel everything they feel, therefore know them quite quickly, without even speaking. Yet that is also a terrible work for me cause it’s actually exhausting to manage my feelings & all the other ones feelings & emotions at the same time
If I am a solitary person, it’s because I have to protect myself of everything I feel when I m surrounded by the croud
I feel, I see, I listen, I smell, I receive way too many informations in crossing someone s eyes & Its overwhelming
Obviously we could say it gives the quality of humanity but never believe an empath doesn’t have some work to do in order to heal
An empath is a person who s hypervigilent since childhood & suffers too
DID A THIEF STILL YOUR PEACE?
How does it feel
Knowing that a thief
Can come and steal your peace
'Cause your lack of boundaries gave
them permission?
You're just a gift that keeps on giving.
A Santa Claus with no Christmas and
return.
No excuse should excuse you from not
putting yourself first.
What're you scared of your past or
something?
What're you scared your friends gon'
laugh or something?
'Cause what you feel is what you attract.
So if you assume or consume the idea
that you're lacking,
That's exactly what you'll be waking up
and having.
Absence for breakfast.
You're a habitual skeptic
And a visual paradox being the culprit in
question, but
You keep looking for someone else to
blame.
You keep looking for someone else to
explain
Why equivalent exchange don't apply to
you.
Why your peace of mind won't reconcile
with you.
God complex with no God inside of you.
But you want your disciples to decipher
you? »
WHEN MY SPIRIT DANCES WITHIN MY LINES
I’ve been using writing as prophetical amusement 15 years ago, that got me to have infinite wonderings & questionings bringing me to healing processes
Observing the audience as they lick the drips of the consequences of their lips,
Rock & roll in my soul, « Beethoven in my flesh, can u taste this sound? »
Can u feel the rounds of sleepness nights I sacrifice to counter up lines that can make ur spirit rise like Ouija board, verbal sources that can make u like a demon shake,
I m an earth sign, intending to make it feel like an earthquake,
So I have to keep it real
I heal through those writings, like a phoenix with 13 ghosts in me
Does ur passion derives from ashes which puts the kneel soul in me,
Of course I’ve got to go, I’ve got gold to weed, of children that don't have the time, to analyze their own dreams when they wake up
So I want to take a fountain of truth & poor it into the juice that are fountains for u to drink,
Just for them to not have the word « life » as a hard pill for them to swallow
I want my writing to help the pessimist not worry about tomorrow when there is so much beauty in today, despite the beast at bay,
Allow me to create fairytale that will keep u all safe
Allow me to play it a bit rocky & put creeds in a cage, to help destroy these empty voids
Allow me to turn Pinocchios into real boys. Real men
Bring me ur limits, if u conserve ur minds on a dinner plate, would u bring me ur restrictions?
For in return, I ll create a pic-nic on the top of the hugest hill, where we can sit on the sand by the oceans (see this doesn’t make rational sense, yet I live in dreams)
Frankly I m hoping this cause has some effect cause u were witnessing a butterfly effect in motion for all those years
This isn't a hobby
Not when I’m daydreaming of prejudice & dead bodies, not when somewhere in the world, a little girl is dying for trying to speak her mind on any quality
I intend on balancing those skills of justice like a libra’s prodigy
A FANATIC OF FREEDOM
I want the hood to feel like kingdom
I want candles, music, piano, compassion, understanding and peace
FANATIC OF FREEDOM
In modern days, same as Shakespeare, I m a ghostwriter
Writing about all the misconceived emotions
because my mind hasn’t make a sense
to my 5 senses
So understand that I never had intentions
about coming back to life, when in my head
high, I forget that I, tend to play dead so l,
find myself playing charades with strangers,
trying to amuse & enternain the crowd
I can be ur clown for an other round, if u want, but watch out,
Ur thoughts have been unattended, just
for a second, & I promise u, self
destruction has never felt so comfortable
I find comfort into my imagination
A safe heaven, a replacement for awkward
conversations, I see, pirates on a train,
hiding treasures beneath the sands,
I m Alice in Wonderland & so
forgive me if I feel safe here, dear
Because, it isn’t u, it’s me
Multiple thoughts are suddenly
seducing, this is mental polygamy
as it’s best,
Where rest is forbidden, I dream
where the wild things are
Where going to sleep is like a
green to ur dreams, being
linched after dark
I wished my mind pace was more
patient, less audacious, more
peaceful, less invasive,
Let’s face it, concentration will
escape the second we’re face to
face
I wished me, myself & I were
more acquainted
But neither one of us is ready to
initiate the mediation u see,
Patience & meditations seem far
fetched
I m simply displaced. Not
detached
There s a difference
For instance,
24/7, three perspectives possess
my attention so answering any
questions, like « what’s on ur
mind?’
Makes me nauseous. I fall into
exaustion
Struggling to find answers so I can
litterally taste the words « nothing,
I m absolutely fine »
Regurgitate & become a
professional dancer rehearsing on
my tong, a job will be done & « the show must go
on »
Watching witches about my potential, as if
angels weren't convincing enough
This light of mine,
Is a canteen
SO PLEASE
Pour me a glass of whatever u
have as we discuss how Edgar Poe
& Van Gogh appear to the masses
Maybe then u d understand my
absence
Silence. Key of how I keep
a peace of mind,
But keep in mind that a penny for
Ur thoughts couldn't buy a
piece of mine
Yet I only think up loud
WRITER THAT I AM
Am I still considered a leader if I have a no book full of un-executated ideas?
If I want to teach Mona Lisa pieces but in the form of verbal speeches?
Does that make me Jesus or a mad genius?
I mean; I ve gotta be a high priestess at least
Or full at best
Repetitive sessions and lectures will replay in my head when it’s time to rest and play dead when it’s time to come alive
And if you know me, you know that I, don’t like my fire sustainable,
Gaz station trips but, no gaz avalaible
Now I have big passions that are invading and degrading my greatest thoughts into biogradables
Am I still a leader if I don’t take the same advices I gave to you?
If I saw you pushed your thoughts into a credo and take the credo into the grave
And told you, the night before, I had being doing the same thing,
Would you still allow me to save of you?
Or would you push me to the wire? Cause I ,too, ve been sinking into the churches of holy hooder but still baptised by fire
So much will, and still, I m forced to tread lightly on treadmills in vacant basements where cage birds out of words, with a freedom impatience like cadence,
I simply articulated it, I translated it
Have I not convaded correctly enough?
Long wolf, have you not being friendly enough?
Or have you been called into what we call self sabotage,
Cause you didn’t feel ready enough
It’s never been the inability to lead
What’s your foundation ?
What do you believe?
If you don’t look up to you, why would we?
They don’t call it the rose out of the sand for nothing
If not yourself… you are going to have your face into something.
THE STOPWATCH
If you had a dollar for every time you stayed overtime & almost gave up on your dreams, you d be wealthier than the men who designed the label on your jeans
So why you be so quick to tap out?
Did you think you’d made it by tap dancing with your hands out?
Success via standing out ain’t for the faint of heart & still you parallel park beside the shortcuts in hopes getting there quicker
& you point your finger so often I can feel the sprinters on your skin whenever you pinky promise
You’re the little engine that could
You just have trained enough Thomas
& the phrase patience is a virtue hurts you every time you hear it
In fact, you fear it & place your journey on a STOPWATCH
You keep pacing that quickly your next alarm clock will be when your heart stops, but you can’t think that far ahead,
So instead you occupy your days sparring with unhealed scars in bed
Who said this would be child’s play?
Is that what your inner child say?
Cause you got plenty vs for vendettas a victim vanishing into pure vanity so you vow verbalize the vile way
No wonder you feel under accomplished, with your mind in the gutter that clutter is an accomplished to an impoverished state of mind and you two press to stay on the grind
You forgot to say:
« Grace » and give « thanks just for staying alive »
HITCHHIKING
I’m an interesting kind of thief, that’s here to steal your ignorance,
An informative bandit
Now, hand me that baggage, hand me that horse & carriage of a dream you desire but won’t aspire to really see through,
See you, still smitten over make-believes
Wake up & smell the roses you ought to taste the leaves & find your way back to the grapevine
Find your truth before you find your tomb & they bury you in that costume
Ain’t no class clowns on the ground
Ain’t nobody to lie to,
So inhale & unveil yourself although they blackmail you and call it « building a character »
Misery loves company & you married her
Subconsciously though,
Like it’s easy to be shameless, when we’re faceless like the monsters we know,
Even the lyrical kind
These wealthy words could turn a pair of dimes into a revolutionary paradigm so,
In the meantime, I’d rather rob you of oblivion
Psychological abductions,
I’m here to bring the missing children in,
So tell those along the road the stories of the girl who pickpockets your mental wallet, for a piece of your soul & swaps it for a subtle dose of knowledge
You can catch me out hitchhiking,
I got ignorance for gold
WHERE YOU ARE - HERE & NOW
Season after season
Month after month
Day after day
Hour after hour
That’s where you are...
You take over
You spread all over
You don’t confine
You won’t subside.
Hard to get by
With you out of reach
So hard to let go
Thanks I am a witch.
A mindtrap
I won’t decline
A prison
I can’t resign
A road
Without a sign?
Full of them, my 40´s changed me.
My only plan was actually me.
ZEBRA
It was hard to be a Zebra
I didn’t follow the croud, I followed my passions & joy, what was keeping me alive
I couldn’t care less of society rules
I had « to settle »! Believe me i m allergic to those words.
I looked for ways to be me, entirely me, loving me, rebellious, spiritual, feminine me, WHOLY ME
For the hypersensitive, they will understand me
Everything is too much
Everything is too intense
You have way too many skills & you get overwhelmed
It is me. My raw me. I felt misunderstood!
God told me I could it all, oh well, so many ideas, driving me in a burn out
So I didn’t focus on one field but in all fields where my capacities could be used to the beneficial of all
I am a billions of me at the same time
I wish everyone could feel the thrill of being whoever they want to be when they want to
I thank all our mothers for fighting to give us a voice one day
We all have an other definition of success, yet reach yours, and no approbation is requested anymore
Nothing to prove anymore, I did it all, I m aiming to do way much more, I encourage women to speak louder, I encourage whoever sees an injustice or a way to do better to jump and do so
Always too many ideas, yet with so many sacrifices, but it was always worth it
Speak up loud, we all have a message to share
We can do it all, we can achieve it all, we can dream infinitely
I litterally didn’t know I could create whatever came in my mind. Dear Zebras, rounds in between squares, you can, we can draw it all.
While the hypersensitive were wondering what they were doing down here, they, themselves were already drawing the whole world
YOU AND ME
»What if my life wasn’t just about me
If my worth wasn’t found in the things l achieved,
Would that feeling of thriving would finally stop?
Would comparison fade & anxiety stop?
But if it’s not about me, what would I do?
What if I tried encouraging you?
Whoever you are when you cross my path,
I’d point out your gifts & the power you have,
Cause when it’s not about me, the world feels bright
We’re all in a team spreading love & light
And the crazy thing is, all your dreams come true
When you’re living for them, instead of living for you. »
GOD
´He’d have the voice of any of us all
& he’d be disguised as my weed man
because,
no other guy sees me that often (figure of speech, dear ones ;)
so after some passing & some coughing
he pauses & tells me that he has an offer,
tells me he heard i’ve been speaking ill
of his Willl & questioning his purpose
I interrupted him « my god, it’s not on purpose », I just be reacting to you acting like
i’m undeserving or unworthy of more
i’m constantly knocking at your door
calling the tongue getting the phone
just to be told by some older folks that
you stubborn like me,
meaning
you’re gonna answer when you need to &
not when i want so
he replies that him & i are, are gonna trade place,
He & his homies will play make pretend
& i’m in charge of answering their
prayers
i’m like « fine »,
he’s like:
but keep
in mind that this job’s biggest payment
is just a thank you
so technically no one can really save
you except these angels i made you
so good luck trying to one-up me instead
just choosing that path that i gave you’
If you surrender to the air, you can ride it.
THE HALL OF MIRRORS
Game on
In the intricate dance of human interaction, we often overlook a profound truth: we are all mirrors reflecting each other’s inner worlds
Every emotion we perceive in another, every judgment we make & every connection we feel, is in some way a reflection of our own psyche
Yoga ( Body Wisdom thrives there), taught me that our perceptions of others are filtered through the lens of our own experiences, beliefs & unresolved emotions
When we notice qualities in others-whether they are admirable or undesirable-what we are often seeing are aspects of ourselves
The traits we praise in others may be the ones we admire or wish to cultivate within ourselves
Conversely, the qualities we criticize or reject in others may reflect parts of ourselves we have yet to fully accept or understand
This mirroring process is at the heart of projection, a psychological mechanism where we unconsciously attribute our own thoughts, feelings, or impulses to someone else
If we find ourselves irritated by someone’s behavior, it may be worth asking: Is this trait something I struggle with or fear in myself?
Similarly, the empathy we feel for another’s pain often stems from recognizing a familiar suffering within us
Recognizing that we are all mirrors to each other invites a deeper level of self-awareness
It challenges us to see our interactions not just as exchanges between individuals, but as opportunities for personal growth & self-discovery
By observing our reactions to others, we can gain insights into our own minds, uncovering hidden fears, desires & values
Ultimately, understanding this mirroring process can lead to greater compassion for ourselves & for others
When we realize that others are reflecting aspects of our own inner world, we can approach them with more empathy & less judgment
We begin to see that our relationships are not just about the other person, but are also profound reflections of our own journey toward self-understanding
In this way, the world becomes a hall of mirrors, each encounter a chance to better understand the infinite facets of our own soul
REPETITIVE SCHEMES
In the depths of our minds, there exists a tapestry woven from the threads of our earliest memories, a fabric stitched together by the echoes of childhood whispers & the shadows of past experiences
This tapestry is what we might call a « REPETITIVE SCHEME», a pattern etched so deeply into our psyche that it becomes a silent guide, steering us through the labyrinth of life
Those are the stories we tell ourselves, born in the cradle of our youth
Perhaps a child, feeling neglected, grows up with a tale of unworthiness inscribed in their heart
This tale becomes a lens, distorting their view of the world, a melody they hum unconsciously as they move through time
It is in the repetition of this tune that the scheme takes shape, binding them to familiar paths, even when those paths lead to sorrow
Like a river carving its course through the land, these patterns of thought & behavior flow through our lives, wearing down the landscape of our existence
We follow their currents, often unaware, repeating the same choices, the same mistakes, the same heartaches
& though the scenery may change-the faces, the places-the story remains the same, a script we return to, time & again
Yet, those are not merely a curse; they’re also a map of where we’ve been, a testament to our resilience
They tell us that once, perhaps many times, we learned to survive in a world that demanded us much
But survival is not the same as living & these repetitive schemes can become chains, holding us back from the freedom to write new stories
To break free, we must first see the scheme for what it is—A PATTERN, NOT A PROPHECY
We must bring it into the light, examine its threads & understand the story it tells
Only then can we begin to weave a new tapestry, one where we are not bound by the past but are free to create our own destiny 🙏🏼
In this way, a repetitive scheme is both a challenge & an invitation
It asks us to revisit the echoes of our past, not to dwell in them, but to understand them, to learn & ultimately, to transcend them
We then can find true poetry in our lives, the power to break the cycle, to craft a new narrative, to walk a path that is wholly our own
THE SIDES OF ME
It was an almost indescribable joy, a quiet ecstasy, to witness how effortlessly | could glide or wave through the maze of contradictions & paradoxes of my mind
I reveled in the tension between the wild, rebellious spirit of rock ‘n roll that echoed in my thoughts, & the profound, unshakable peace that rested deep within my soul
There’s a magic in this balance, a hidden potential waiting to be discovered
Go, find a way to blend these two worlds, to weave the chaos of the mind with the stillness of the heart
Let them intertwine & rise together, like a cosmic symphony, bursting forth as countless stars, illuminating the universe with their dazzling light ✨
You’ll never stop dreaming or feeling, cause that’s always your next plan becoming reality so very soon,
There is no fear to have into our dark side, there are only answers to our deepest treasures
Let’s dive in it
POWER OF WORDS
There is ART & self work, to be conscious of our own words in this world
Yet, Observe the quiet language of actions, where true intentions are whispered in every step taken.
Words may weave intricate tales, gilded with charm & eloquence, but it is in the steady rhythm of what one does that their essence is revealed
Actions are the silent pulse of the heart, the unspoken vows, the unguarded truths
They rise like the dawn, unbidden & undeniable, while words may fade like the fleeting twilight
Trust what you see, the patterns etched in the fabric of daily life, for they are the honest storytellers, weaving narratives that words could never fully capture
In this, you’ll find clarity, & never be deceived by the illusion of empty promises (oh lord, I despise promises)
It is almost hardcore for me, as a person who loves to express myself by words what I feel, to remain alerted about what people try to convince me about or convince themselves with actual lies
« BE IMPECCABLE WITH YOUR WORDS »
Does what we say IS actually what we think, mean & stand for? And do we do what we say? Or do we make people waste their time with BS?
I personally lost a lot of time with people who were lying to themselves first
I can’t judge neither as I guess I acted the same way when I actually didn’t remember who I was
Nobody deserves to be troubled on his path because of wrong external informations ℹ️
That’s again an invitation for inner work obviously
Be conscious of your words & their consequences
Titus 2:8 - A Call for Integrity
Sound speech, that cannot be condemned; that he that is of the contrary part may be ashamed, having no evil thing to say of you. (Titus 2:8, KJV)
Titus 2:8 emphasizes the importance of sound, impeccable speech that stands beyond reproach
The idea here is not just to avoid scandalous talk but to speak in ways that uphold integrity & righteousness
By maintaining sound speech, Christians can live above accusations reflect the character of Christ, making those who oppose them feel ashamed of their baseless criticisms
I could write so much more but I don’t want to approve or disapprove any kind of spiritual belief as all paths lead to the same goal of Oneness
I will only add that those words are used in the Toltec agreements, & actually in all other religions or other spiritual paths too, therefore, any universal law, especially this one, is valid to anyone
I’ll also add that some words can blurry our path if they aren’t real nor clear or lying or when they come from blurry minds. & it’s an issue.
Everyone is responsible for his way of speaking in a CLEAN & honest way
WRITE AND PLAY
I always loved to play in rhymes, I always loved the words, especially the clean & the right words,
The ones that had an impact,
I had something to say, & l lI never give up on it, just because provoking or acting differently disturbs so many, & guys it’s fun to be on a ring without any boxing
I am you, l am me, l am everybody in different time & space,
I owe me, l owe you, I write for the artists who never asked to be an artist,
I will claim, I will shout, I will use all languages, French, English, Greek, Spanish, German or Italian, or any language as perfect as it can be,
Because go find, any other weapon than a clear way of speech
I had, have, I ll aways have a message to transmit
Do you want to hear it? Or do I have to burn it all until you read it?
Because, believe it or not, my voice will never be tamed nor will disappear, for people who can’t even think clear
MY MAN, PART 1
Our home are all the places we have lived together and spent time together
Our home was woven in secrets & it was a place among the gods, which belonged only to us
Every time we made our way there, we took a slightly different path, that led us through a tower of infinite steps, leading to more and more intensity, to the gate that opened to the skies
Whenever we opened that door, we left our ordinary lives behind & stepped into a brand new universe
I thought about my past everytime I stepped through that door and erased it all in one brushstroke
He guided my encounter with the ever-changing sky
Love and war are the same
Both surprisingly similar to how wolves fight
While the man and the woman squirm under each other’s fur
They sink their claws into each other’s heart
Love is wild, dirty, beautiful, filthy, painful, passionate, it’s an exaltation, it’s mystical, it’s transforming and liberating
If he hadn’t taught me to see all that, I never would have discovered the power inside of me
The truth had reached deadlock as they sink in
Is it possible to love without being hurt or without hurting inevitably?
Is it possible for a heart to love so much?
So much, I wanted to surrender myself into his arms for eternity since the first time eye contact
I felt I knew him since ever, from the first moment he caressed my face
Yet over the time, I found out that not all the stairs of our home lead up to the sky
It turns out that our home likes to play with anyone without a guide nor any rule, & is so welcoming that it also attracted some evil people in, jaleous or desperate with a need of destruction
Yet weirdly, despite all the hate & attacks from people of our past, it brought us always closer & closer, thanks to what we call complicity & unconditional love
Love is stronger than anything & will always win it all
MY MAN, PART 2
In order to find my way, if I get lost in this storm of love, I write to leave signs that will always bring me back to him, in case our home was misdirecting us one day
Everything we have lived & be through is printed into my mind forever
Every time we entered in our home,
With every step, my heart was pouring faster & faster
I halted on the last one
I almost lost my nerve
The door to a new world stood directly in front of me
My hand shrank in his & melted away
I knew then that what waited beyond the door could only be better
I was ready for anything
Actually, our home is a place | always knew, a place I've been before deep in my heart, same as I knew him since the stars were made
As my love to him is a recognition of who I am
Everything is like a dream
Do you believe our destiny is influenced by dreams?
Do you believe you have to have been somewhere to know it?
Or are you exactly where you have to be & are already living the life of your dreams?
MA PLUME
« Il y eut un temps où l’écriture, sans savoir où elle me mènerait,
Était un souffle, une lueur, un cri venu du fond de mes vérités.
Des années à déposer sur la page ce que portait mon cœur,
À accueillir, en retour, humble et touchée, les récits des âmes en quête de douceur.
Ils venaient, innombrables, ces échos d’une douleur commune,
Résonnant dans mes mots comme une promesse sous la lune.
Chaque phrase, chaque tournure, chaque plainte ou exaltation,
Portait les traces d’enfers traversés et de sublimes renaissances en passion.
Pour ceux qui ont connu l’abus, le poison de l’esprit,
L’oppression d’une voix qui s’éteint sous un masque d’hypocrisie,
Il est venu ce jour où, devant trente mille regards réunis,
J’ai vu la victime devenir flamme, créatrice de sa vie.
L’acharnement d’être entendue, enfin, trouve son chemin,
Et l’on comprend que la vérité n’est jamais dite en vain.
Pour chaque âme brisée, il en existe mille autres en miroir,
Et il est temps de parler, d’embraser le silence noir.
Car même les plus forts ploient sous le poid des jours,
Quand la violence s’infiltre et ronge l’amour.
Mais il arrive un moment où l’un de nous se lève,
Porte une armée d’étoiles, et tranche les chaînes du rêve.
Jamais plus les ombres n’auront refuge ou pardon,
Car une clameur s’élève, unie par l’horizon,
Proclamant la compassion , l’empathie et la lumière,
Face à ceux qui détruisent sans jamais toucher terre.
Ai-je disparu, ou simplement pris le temps de guérir,
De lire vos âmes, vos douleurs, vos désirs,
Pour me lever enfin et dire, sans détour,
Que je n avais pas à changer mon cœur
Que je n ai pas à porter la faute de ceux qui manquent d’humanité,
Ni à chercher en moi ce qu’ils n’ont jamais trouvé. »
« À jamais à moi, à jamais à nous »
CHOICES
We are creatures of choice,
walking paths woven by threads of thought.
Each decision a quiet ripple, spreading far beyond our sight,
carving the shape of our days, the rhythm of our nights.
We live upon the weight of “yes” and “no,”
on roads we’ve paved with footsteps forged in the heat of hesitation,
or in the cold certainty of purpose.
Our lives are the stories of turns we took,
of bridges crossed or burned,
of doors opened, and those left forever shut.
Fate whispers, but we answer with our will.
We carry the echoes of each step,
learning that even stillness is a choice,
and silence speaks as loudly as a shout.
In the end, our lives are not written in the stars,
but traced in the decisions we’ve made.
RED RIVER
As a woman, a seeker of our inner realms,
I’ve watched with wonder, as cycles turned & swelled
The week before the flow, our period, they say, is harsh
A time when body & spirit strain,
Where emotions flare, tempers rise,
& patience thins like a fading tide
I believed this too, for so long,
That these were the hardest days of the month to endure
Yet now, I’ve grown, I’ve learned, I’ve seen,
As a yogi, a student of the universal form:
That this week holds something more, something rare:
A hidden strength, a truth so sharp & clear
For never have I seen a woman more in tune,
More honest with herself, her heart like a blade,
Cutting through the fog of her life, her mind
This « difficult » phase of the months, she rises,
Seeing with sharpness what must be known,
Where her deepest values lie,
What paths must change to heal her soul
Oh believe me, with less energy or pain, u don’t have time to get lost into the distractions of the other phases of ur month
« Irritable » we say about us?
Never as sharp clear & strong in our speech though sis’!
« Irritable » is for the past ignorance,
Change mindset there & u ll see the difference
Respecting our cycle is powerful & not a curse
This is the time when no lie can stand,
No mask can hide, no shadow escape her sight
She won’t stand any kind of BS
She becomes the mirror of her life,
Reflecting all that must be faced, embraced,
Or cast aside with resolute grace
I’ve never known a woman in this space,
Not feeling the signs of her body/ her spirit if it was unaligned
I observed in all of us women, a time of clarity, fierce, honest & true,
Where what doesn’t serve her simply won’t do
So here’s to the women who endure this weight,
I feel ur pain, I know it well
But see also the power that blooms within,
The way u rise, unshakable & unafraid to express everything residing in ur heart
Shift the way u view this time,
For this phase returns u to u own core,
Stripping away the distractions of life,
To reveal the wounds, the truths, ur pure & vulnerable heart
Here, in this sacred storm,
U find the strength to see, to heal, to transform
