My life fits in a box

You probably thought I disappeared ? I thought too.

Among empty boxes, I put a little bit of myself in all of them : Time to leave, guys ! But I’m not as sad as I was few days before. I realized all the goods things which are coming and when I see my roomate so happy to go back to USA, I finally think that I should be optimistic.

Why that ? Because my trip is not over. I will go to Roma with my best friend during five days – travel posts coming soon ! stay tuned -, then a big internship is waiting for me in Paris where I will spend my summer.

Many differents places, different kind of trips where I will plant my roots further.  So, for now, I am quite excited because, what I called “coming back”, is not as static as I believed.

Packaging all these memories shows me how much I lived, ate, drank this wonderful experience ! And it woudn’t be so amazing if there was no end to it. I hear my friends seriously planning to live here in the future, what permits to me to know what kind of person I am.

I would be tempted to live one per one year in different countries, I need to experience other places. I don’t know if I purchase the idyllic city, the one which will give me the envy to settle down – for now, only Stockholm and Liverpool approached my traveller’s soul.

What I know is I will escape, as much as I can, the static and reductive “coming back”.

Black and Write


It’s funny to know that this title was a written mistake. But then I realized how true these two words could define me. Not black like my skin, black like a pure and deep color. These days, I work on my novel and I have to face the end of my 9months-stay here.

What is the link ? you will say. Well, I have to do this introspection, looking down in my soul and opening my eyes. I have to take all these secret feelings and bringing them back to the surface.

It’s hard. Hard to be sad. Hard to accept that it wouldn’t be as beautiful as now if it was forever. Hard to see that this life never was my daily life, it was dream in bubble dream. Hard to know that I will explode this bubble with a plane going back in France.

Surprisingly, my characters are living their best moment. What an irony ! I feel sad when they finally enjoy their life, far away from my sadistic mind – we’ll talk about this later, haha.

Many things in life are hard to achieve, but fear mostly covers them. I am scared to live this post-erasmus like I am to finish this book. Because it’s frightening to know the end.

Who never prays to never finish a book, when it was an untelling pleasure ?