Moving on, strength of next days

Weird title, I think. But it seemed to me obvious that “strength” takes place in it. Nothing goes as we expect that it will be. Disappointment is something that I am familiar with, somehow, in love. Some of you appreciated my last article, and I don’t regret my words but since that, disappointment came upon it. God I would like to erase it in order to give some logic to my life and my text, but life is surprising. In an “up and down” way.

However, I refuse to let myself drowning. You already know it, I am optimistic. It’s tough to remain optimistic in love. Specially when it’s soooo complicated !

However, it’s also easy to tell about positive things : feeling good, acting in a good way, being a good person… All of this is easy to relate. It is easier to congratulate an ego and admiting its fault. Few weeks ago, I felt pride and good to have helped a woman in the metro. Nothing heroic, just civil act of helping someone else. I felt good because I did not follow the easy way which is following the crowd, taking the metro, going down to my usual station, going back home and closing the door behind me. I was proud to do not let the routine crashing me in my individual way of life.  Again, proud to have taken a minute to stop my steps and looking back for someone else than my ego who wanted to watch the last episode of Homeland or Mad Men. I was happy because it was me.

How bad is that ? Not that I think it’s bad to be proud of some acts that we do sometimes, some way of action which surprises ourself; but it would have worth it if it was not exceptionnal. Few days after, I spent a bad day after hearing a bad news, I came back home and a woman who needed help in the stairs of the metro was there. I skipped this woman. No matter how hard it is to write it, no matter how I turned back for helping her afterward, no matter how much I realized my mistake… I had been selfish and did what I was scared about. Following the routine, finding an excuse of “I don’t feel well”.

Same for this poor fellow that I saw in my metro just after that, I did not give even a food coupon because “if I give to every poor people I see, I will be myself poor”. Another excuse.

When I came back home for relaxing… I could not. I felt bad. So bad face to the truth of my actions. I was not different.

Then I thought “I will do better tomorow”. Isn’t it what it is about ? Being a better person, isn’t it trying everyday ? Learning of our failures and pursuing our goal ? Feeling so involved that we have this will to change ? I think so. I don’t say it excuses everything, but I sincerely believe that trying harder, instead of being stuck on “I am a bad person”,  is what make us better.

‘Cause being better, it is also reflecting on ourself afterward. No ?

What do you think ?

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 ?