A tired afternoon reflexion.

Are we all hiding something ?
Of course we are. We all have secrets, fears and other abominations lurking inside us. It’s, for me, the most interesting to learn about people, the kind of confession you make at 3 am, drunk with tired-ness or wine, sitting next to each others, the one I treasure the most because it means that they trust you. But we all have our own part of darkness inside.

Take me, for exemple (and it’s just one of the least horrible ones) :
I’m not even able to let myself love people, beause I’m so terrified of what they could do to me…I always look for signs of their treason, for why I shouldn’t have let my guard down. And, inevitably, it happens. They will let me down, decieve me, hurt me.
Maybe I’m just not made to have real friends or a lover ?
I don’t really know. It’s so strange, I’d kill for social contacts, normal social behaviors but I can’t.
I’d kill for tenderness, for hugs.
But I can’t do it.
But man, how relieve am I when someone hug me, when someone decide to spend some time with me.
But I can’t do it by myself, it feels weird, like I shouldn’t want that much attention from people, like I’m not worth it.

I don’t even like letting my true self shine because he’s weird and unfunny and strange and mediocre. I prefer to stay silent, I have to, otherwise I’ll make people flew away. Because I’m too strange, too scary, too clever, too much.

Did I told you how much I hate myself ?


Two years later….

I think we can safely say that this blog was dead.
I’m not good in following resolutions, nor even simple one, like “write a note a day in that cute little diary you just bought”. But I guess you had guessed, by know.

I mean, “mea culpa mea maxima culpa”, it’s my fault my greatest fault : it seems that I’m suffering from a bit of attention disorder. Not only am I unable to correctly follow my own thoughts without ending lost in my own, imagined, dreamed, life-into-my-head, I am also unable to stay commited to an online writing plateform. You see, I’ve discovered Tumblr and became furiously addict.

At first, I wondered if I should have created a new blog, with the same name, on Tumblr, to write my therapy. Then, I decided that wordpress was pretty much more adapted, because you, dear readers, can answer me.

Yes, I’ll try to write my feelings, my anguish, my self-hate, my story, on this small island in the middle of the vast ocean of souls named “internet”. Maybe some of you will connect, maybe not. At least, people will, hopefully, read those messages in bottles. It’s not that I don’t want closer people, like family, reading them but….No, I don’t want to, who do I try to fool here ?

Ah well.
Not a lot has changed since last time.
I’ve got my degree in psychology, and I still think university stinks (especially because we’re formatted to attend it, whatever our real capacities, passions, wants are and also because….well….you end up formated for research, teaching and not a lot more. You’re not even ready after five years, because you still lack practice).
I’ve, kinda, found what I want to do with my life. I just don’t know how you end up there, but at least, now, I know.
(to answer your question : I want to become an Imagineer, creating rides and shows and theme parks)
I even have a seasonnal job in a very famous french theme park who’s owned by the Mouse With Big Ears, I’ll start in a week and I’m pretty anxious about it.
(you know, the “Fraud Police” is still sweetly singing to my hears its atrocious chorus “you’re not good enough, it’s ridiculous, just get a real job,…”)
I’m still alone, more than ever, but I think I’m getting better at living with it (or, at least, that’s what I say to myself every night)
My mother still hates Christmas. I still love it.
Nothing really new in my fishtank.
(but I have a fish named Raymond)

Your usual stupid rambling

It’s Christmas Eve and I’m alone.
Alone, at home, like each year. Trying to study a little, trying to make and follow goods resolutions and, like each year, failing at.

Oh, of course, I know why I’m alone : I choose it. It’s my own damn fault but….but each year, you know, I say to myself “this year, you’ll not be alone, you’ll make new friends, maybe a lover”.
And each year is a disaster, worse than last year, better than the next.

If you are so lonely, why not studying, so you could have very good grades and all your family will be very happy (because, you know, good grades are what defines you, if you have good grades, you’re happy with your life, you’ll have a good job and make lot of money. As if…. As if I’ll make money. I’m studying criminology, not a good field to make money. I shloud have studied medecine or engineering, but I’m too stupid for that.
So, why are you going to the university then ?
I’m going to the university because, well, I like what I’m studying and also because that’s what my parents wished. I don’t even know what to do with my live.
Each year, each word is another piece in the “You are a fugly, useless and lonely cunt, go die” wall.

It’s Christmas’ Eve and My parents are sleeping in the couch, in the front of the TV. Like each year. I was always the only one trying to support the Christmas spirit. They never had one, my mother despise almost all my father’s family, he doesn’t like her family, family dinners all year long are always full of hypocrisy…If I listened to my mother, they will be no Christmas tree, no nativity scene on the mantel of the fire and no gifts, or yes, gift-cards.
There never was any Christmas spirit in this house.
It’s sad.
The more I grow, the more I think we have never been a real family. We were always distant, each in a different room, in a different world.

I never been the most happiest person on earth, I think you’d guessed, by now.
Maybe next year, I’ll have the courage to end everything.

As usual

Repeating “everything is alright, I’m alright” is not going to do something, isn’t it ?
Yeah miss yourself, I’m afraid so…
How could you believe it was beating again ? You lost it, so long ago, you let it go, you buried it, deep enough, you killed it and you were so proud, so happy of that murder…
Now, you can’t get it back, it’s over.
But you still hope.
As usual.

You’ll always be that lone ranger, miss yourself, always.
Stop dreaming, it will never, never, never happen again.
I told you so, it was better for you, but did you listen ?
No, you didn’t.
As usual.

Hate him till you vomit, that’s the best thing you can do now. Hate him et let love where it should have been : rotting in a desert, far far far away from the galaxy you are.
Burn him with your anger and your hatred, that’s the only thing you’re able to do, anyway. You forgot everything else.
It’s not is fault ?
No, it’s not. It’s yours, you know it, but you can’t face it, you can’t live with it.
You can’t live with the fact that YOU are the rotten one.
You can’t accept it.
As usual.

And yet, you pathetic cunt, you still shiver when the light of your phone is shinning in the night, but it’s juste your battery telling you it’s low.
Low, like you.
You’re pathetic darling. Pathetic.
As usual.

Of animals and their deaths

Sometimes, when everything is quiet at home, I hear the water dispenser working.
It goes “tick tick tick tick tick tick….”…As if a rat was drinking.
And I smile.
Because it’s a normal sound.
Everything is normal.

Then I remember they are dead and it’s a cruel trick of my mind.

I could never believe that dreamed sound would be so painful.
And I couldn’t believe I would miss them so much.

And sometimes, when I wake up at night, I stay still, wishing to hear the sound of the water dispenser, or the sound they made when they ate.
Or when they played in the cage.
And I only hear my parents snoring or my cat dreaming or the wind through the curtains.

Never though it could be so difficult.

Rats are small animals.
They aren’t quite liked.
But they are so smart, so lovable, when they wash your fingers, or drink in your glass or try to see if there’s something hidden in your mouth. They are so cute with their little ears and nose and whiskers.
And when they “krrrrkrrrr” when you pet them ? Adorable !
They are so small, but they take so much space in your heart.
In our little “rat’s community”, we always said “rats are bad, because they die.”
I never understood how true this sentence was till today.

Because animals die.
They will hardly outlive us.
And that is what make adopting them so special, because you know they will die. You know they will perhaps suffer.
You will mourn them and, whatever say your parents, friends, others, it will be difficult.
Even if they are “just” animals.

It’s an opportunity to see life as it really is : living each day as its own.
Because one day, you will die and your body will rot in a tomb or will stay in an urn.
That’s sad, not really glamorous, but that’s what will happen.
People will forget you, as their memories of you will fade, day after day after day.
They fill forget you as much as you, will forget your loved ones to soon deceased.
I don’t remember the voice of my two grand-mothers. I don’t even remember the voice or the look of my neighbourg who passed away last year.
Children after children or nephews or else, who will remember you in 100 years ?
Not so many
(And so you know I’m not quite a believer of some kind of afterlife…).

So you need to live. Live each day as new and beautiful and holders of experiments, of discoveries, of positive and negative things.
You need to learn of all day.
Learn to be a better you, to accept and love you, because no one will do it in your place.
To stand your ground and say “fuck it”.
To make mistakes and learn of them. Never being ashamed of your mistakes. They are what make you so beautiful. So human.
Live now and also plan the futur, but don’t be disappointed if it didn’t work like you wanted to.
Live and learn to use each experiences like a springboard.
(Maybe I’ll talk about that in another post)

Having an animal is an oustanding experience.
It made me more human.
I learned to care for them and so I learned to care for me too. Because if I let myself down, if I die, who will take care of them, as good as I took care of them ? For me, I felt it would be a betrayal.
And I hate betrayal.
I learned to be patient and more understanding, because sometimes, they don’t want to obey or let you nurse them or just let you pet them.

An animal will give you his love, his confidence, you’ll become come kind of a pack leader.
He will be there for you, whatever happen.
Blindly, he will follow you, love you. Maybe not in the same way you love them, maybe not in the way you want to.
But they will love you.
And you, my dear, you will love him. You will watch him. You will be worried when he’ll not react as usual.
There is no shame in it.
There is no shame in loving him, even if he’s not human.

So, thank you, my dear companions, dead or alive. From the bottom of my heart.
Thank you, Haza the beautiful Malinois Shepherd, Rex and Rex Jr the German Sheperds, Duchesse and Tractopelle the cats, Myscaire, Menthe, Mandragore, Maurice and Maze the rats
Thank you for helping me being human.
Thank you for helping me understanding how life works.
Thank you for being there, for watching me, for listenning to me.
Thank you.

Edit 05-12-2014 : My oldest cat, Duchesse, passed away at 19 during August 2014. It’s still difficult. and I have a fish, now, Raymond, a Bette splendens. Tractopelle is still pretty fine.

Florence and The Machine – Ceremonials

It hit me like a train, in the face. Then, it burned me slowly, the fire of it flowing through my veins.
It’s was painful and delicious in the same time. I was like a rabbit, facing his death, in front of the headlights.

Sometimes, you find a pearl, waiting for you to being discovered.
I’ve already heard some songs of Florence+The Machine, and I liked them but….I didn’t search more about it. They popped sometimes in my playlist, sometimes in my youtube feed.
Then, I saw the lineup for Rock Werchter, with Florence and The Machine in it and I say to myself “dang, no places left for the day she came (and dang, 79€ (104$ US)….DAMNED GOOD LADY !……Why not looking after the albums on youtube ?”
And I did.

I listened to “Ceremonials” on youtube and I fell in love.
Then I downloaded it, and “Lungs” (I know, it’s bad, throw me some rocks if you want but…..Because I didn’t have money, I can’t have access to the culture ? Really, guys ?).

And, last night, I decided to make a little “music-of-the-night-session” (basically, just me and my fat ass in a bed, my hears plugged to the computer) with the albums.

And God, it was beautiful. Violent, overflowing with sensuality, with joy and melancholia and sex and sweetness and so much more…My favorite one is “Ceremonials”. It’s haunted, melancholic and in the same time, it burst with something like joy, like love. “Lungs” is a bit less haunted and melancholic, more joyful, more….I don’t know, maybe easier to listen ? I like it anyway (“Drumming Song” is just beautifully sensual, it’s really what you felle when you are next someone you desire/love and “Cosmic Love” is so….cosmic ? So intense !)
But really, Ceremonials is my favorite.
Every song in it ring a bell in my soul, every song touch me deep in the heart.
It’s like a horse in full gallop, it hurts you and tramples you and moves you until tears flows.

Sometime, you fell in front of a painfully beautiful (yes, like you, Tom Hiddleston !) thingumabob (human, animal, objects, arts or not) and the only thing you can do is staring at it like “Damned, how didn’t see it before ? WANDA Y U SO BLIND ?”.

So, yeah, really, “Ceremonials” is on my “to buy” list (with a lot of books, t-shirt and dvd).

One day, I’ll talk to you about Amanda Palmer. Another artist I really love (with Danny Elfman).

Louder than bells

Oh, my.

I didn’t really understand how luch crap I could post in here. That’s terrible, why everyone isn’t boo-ing me ?
I think a little clean-up coulb be useful but….Then….Where will be the wonderful shame in ten years, when I’ll read the old post, mmh ? (and, who knows, it may be overpassed by the feeling of “well, now I can write good witty and funny stuff, hey !”)

As you may know, I was in Disneyworld in February….THAT WAS AWESOME ! The true Magic is there (sorry, Disneyland Paris, I love you but….there’s someone new in my life….Maybe we could just stay friends ?), they really know how to make you feel happy. Or maybe it’s an american thing ? Nicer people ever met (guest or cast members), open minded, young at heart….I don’t know, but I think i’ll come back (and I must, otherwise my family will kill me – Yes, Wanda has family in the USA). I’m currently writing the trip report in French, then I’ll try to translate it in English (wish me luck…).

When I’m not busy dreaming about a very distant futur, or drooling about some obscure disney reference (or sweetest-then-heaven-hotter-the-hell actors), or replace soda with natural fruit juice and water and tea and eating less crap, I’m busy trying to feel busy about (again !) changing my path….Yes, I know, I change my mind so much I may become a weathervane but…..I think….Maybe…..It will be the last time….I hope (for my own peace of mind)…..So, I’m busy (I think the ratio of busy/others words in this paragraph is over 9000) changing my mind and mentally training myself to do another second year in Psychology, in another University (ULG, for the one in the back of the room who may be Belgian), far away from my home…..(not that I really mind but…..It will be difficult to not having “my” room, with my giant bed, my cat, my desks full of crap-crafting-thingies and my almost breaking wardrobe….And a real kitchen….And a real bathroom….Because, yeah, my parents want me to stay there, because “it’s far away, you’ll be tired yadayadayada We are tired of your crazyness and cynical behavior”…..)

So….Who knows, I’ll be able to concentrate more on my studies and on my writings.
Who knows, this blog could become alive, eh ?
Fear it (or not) :D !

Your Truly Wonderful Princess Wanda (because I bought a tiara, so, I’m a princess and if I’m a princess, I’m wonderful)

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