#Dieu est bon

[bebliafrench]

Lis la bible: beblia.com 🙏

Dis amen si tu es d'accord

Job 42:5-6

beblia.com

[chifourmi]

Moi y a quelques mois : beurk beurk l'amour c'est nul nul blablabla pas envie de m'engager

Moi maintenant : tristoune pcq je me suis dit qu'on ferait un truc pour la St Valentin avec le Dieu Grec mais il m'a proposé qu'on se voit le lendemain

(11/02/2024)

[cryptidm0ths]

son solo commence avec " avec amour pour toi" bebefille il est non seulment pd mais aussi down bad

[inlovewithaspiderguy]

Je regarde kaos et le perso de cénée me dit quelque chose je google et me rend compte que je le connais sûrement de the school for good and evil, cette DAUBE

[elkana-k]

[leclerc-hs]

lucky (bonus!) - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: in which you and your childhood best friend have sex for the first time. Warnings: BAD FRENCH! (I didn't get to check these translations so if they're wrong please correct me and I will fix!), smut, angst, cheating (oops) Word Count: 1,381 Author's Note: hi! I felt that Charles and Lucky having sex later in their friendship was the right move. I was in between making them younger, but it didn't feel right writing about teenagers having sex to me lmaoooo. I love you guys and hope that you enjoy!!! please leave feedback I love hearing from you all. xo PART 1 PART 2

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

HE WINS IN Spa; He wins in Monza!

The air was filled with a mix of adrenaline, joy, and the unmistakable scent of burnt rubber from the track. The vibrant red of the Ferrari flowed under the brilliant Italian sun, reflection the passion of this moment. The crowd’s cheers echoed, creating a symphony of celebration that seemed to envelop the entire circuit.

Your heart raced with a blend of pride and excitement, knowing that your best friend had achieved something extraordinary. The victory at the Ferrari home race was more than just a win; it was a triumph that would be etched in the annals of racing history.

Turning your attention to the podium, you marveled at the sight of your best friend standing tall, a champion stood above in the midst the cheering crowd. His racing suit adorned with the iconic prancing horse; he wore the victorious smile of someone who conquered not just the track but the hearts of fans worldwide.

The tears welled up in your eyes, a testament to the shared journey and countless hours of hard work, dedication, and sacrifice that led to this moment. You were so happy for him.

The podium ceremony unfolded with the spraying of champagne, and as the golden droplets shimmered in the sunlight, you couldn’t help but feel proud as you savored the moment completely. 

“Il s’est très bien debrouillé!” He did so well! You muttered to Lorenzo who greeted you with a big hug of excitement.

“Oui! You’re needed in his driver’s room,” Lorenzo responded with a smile. “Il m’a dit plus tôt.” He told me earlier. 

You patiently waited in his driver’s room, lounging on the compact leather couch. When the door swung open at last, with his race suit unzipped at his waist, you leaped to your feet with excitement. 

You cried out, “Mon dieu, Charlie!” My God, Charlie! before leaping right into his arms, clinging onto him tightly. “Je suis tellement fiere de toi!” I am so proud of you!

He felt his heart pound rapidly as you leaped into his arms. He wanted to tell you right then and there that he was in love with you.

“Nous devons célébrer!” We must celebrate! You waited for him to place you back down on your feet, but he never did. At least not as soon as you thought he would. He just held you there, staring at you as if you were the sun.

“My Lucky,” he says. “It’s all because of you.”

It was quick. One second, he was smiling at you as he held you up against him, and the next you were pressed against the door with his lips on yours. You felt your stomach clench from the heat of the kiss.

“Est-ce que c’est bon?” Is this okay? You nodded into the kiss. Yes – yes it’s okay. 

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. In fact, it wasn’t supposed to happen at all. You both could blame it on the fact that he just won a major race or the rush of emotions from the win. But it was just love. Not that either of you would ever admit it.

His hips had you pinned to the wall, completely at his mercy, while his hands fumbled with the button of your jeans. “Puis je les enlever?” Can I take these off?

You didn’t provide a verbal response; instead, you assisted by pushing the jeans down and shimmying out of them. His fingers immediately nudging their way past your cotton panties and hooking two of them right into your center as his thumb rubbed your clit in quick circles.

“Tu es tremée,” You’re soaked. He moaned into your mouth, the vibration of his groan echoing hotly into your mouth.

You moaned back softly into his. Your moans alone were enough to send Charles into a rampage. He wanted to listen to you for eternity. It was in this moment, he thought he never wanted to hear anything else from your mouth again.

You skillfully removed his race suit from his hips before he guided you to the same compact sofa you just waited patiently on. His lips never left yours as you both fell to the couch – you now straddling him. 

You both were so frantic. So needy. The only time your mouths separated was for him to whisper the foulest things. They only fueled you to ride him harder.

You’re so fucking tight.

Just like that.

Squeezing me like you’re going to come, Lucky.

Such a good girl.

C’mon let me feel you come.

I can feel how fucking wet you are.

You both came simultaneously, heavy breaths exchanged into each other’s mouths. It was so hot.

The suddenness of it all left you breathless, caught off guard by the intensity of the moment. One second, his tongue was pushing its way into your mouth again. The next, you were pushing him away, standing up from the couch as you rushed to find your jeans and get them back on.

The reality began to sink in, a shadow over the fleeting moment. He has a girlfriend, a detail that changed the complexion of the situation. You felt sick to your stomach as the reality began to weigh down on you.

Although the term girlfriend was a bit of a stretch, you felt awful. But you didn’t regret it. You could never regret anything with Charles. He was your person. Your best friend. 

“Nous ne pouvons pas refaire ça.” We can’t do this again.

“Lucky.” His arms, once a source of comfort, now felt like constraints as he grasped you. The taste of his kiss lingered, but it was overshadowed by the bitter understanding that boundaries have been crossed.

You yearned for a different reality where his girlfriend didn’t exist, but the weight of the truth remained. Accepting, you grappled that some things were beyond your control. 

“Cha, c’est bien.” It’s okay.  With a heartfelt effort, you mustered up the biggest smile, gently cupping his face into your hands. Despite your warm gesture, his eyes reflected a sadness, a longing for something more, a desire that he couldn’t act upon. 

“Tu es mon meilleur ami.” You’re my best friend. “Nous oublierons que cela s’est produit.” We will forget that this happened.

Charles shook his head in disagreement at first, but you stopped him. You needed to shift the conversation. You were supposed to be out celebrating. “Nous devons célébrer!” We must celebrate!

You urged Charles to get dressed quickly. You needed to get out of the confines of this room.

Physically, Charles nodded with a smile, but internally, he felt nothing but pain in his heart. It’s always been you. He wanted to yell that she means nothing to him, that it’s you who means everything. 

“Allons-y,” Let’s go. You grabbed his hand, leading him out of the driver’s room to kick off your night of celebration, leaving the pressing issues behind. Pretending as if nothing changed. He was your best friend. You were his best friend. Nothing changed.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Charles found it unbearable. The attention you were attracting was driving him to the brink of madness as he sat in the booth of the club, with his girlfriend beside him.

“C’est toujours elle,” It’s always her. She leaned over into Charles ear. 

His so-called girlfriend wasn’t oblivious, like he thought. She always picked up on his gaze following you, his constant talk about you, and the fact you were consistently his top priority. Initially, she shrugged it off, given your close friendship. It only became apparent to her when she sensed that your needs started taking precedence over hers. 

She couldn’t even pretend to ignore the marks on his neck. 

“Quoi?” What? Charles finally glanced at her, breaking free from his trance on you. It only prompted laughter from her, evidence that his attention was solely fixed on you. He heard her though. He just didn’t want to acknowledge that he had been caught.

“You’re wasting my time,” his girlfriend muttered before standing up, grabbing her things to leave. “If you want her, tell her.” These were the final words she uttered to Charles before exiting the club, leaving him behind.

But little did she know that he had attempted to share his feelings for you numerous times. It just never worked out. The timing was always off. 

[onlyonetifosi]

Behind the camera -> chapter 8

<- previous series masterlist my main masterlist next ->

author note1: more yn/joris fluff 🥹🥹 based on charles los angeles vlog here

The warm California sun welcomed Charles Leclerc and his entourage as they stepped off the plane at Los Angeles International Airport. The city's vibrant energy and palm-lined streets signaled the beginning of a much-needed break for the Formula 1 driver and his companions.

"Ah, Los Angeles! It's good to be here," Charles exclaimed, stretching his arms wide.

Andrea, Charles’ trainer, nodded in agreement. "Sì, Los Angeles è sempre bello. È il momento di divertirsi" ( Los Angeles is always beautifuI) (t's time to have fun)

Joris, Charles's best friend and Yn's boyfriend, grinned. "Time for some fun, my friends!"

As they settled into their luxurious villa, Charles couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. "This is exactly what I needed, guys. A break from the racing world and some time to unwind," he said, a genuine smile on his face.

The group, which included Charles, Andrea, Joris, Charles's girlfriend Alexandra, Riccardo, and his wife Marta, as well as Antoine, Charles's photographer and videographer, headed to their hotel to drop off their bags. Charles couldn't help but glance at Yn, his twin sister, who was engaged in lively conversation with Alex.

"Hey, Yn, ready for some LA adventures?" Charles teased, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

Yn rolled her eyes. "Always ready, Charles. As long as you don't embarrass me too much, big brother"

The group's first activity was a friendly basketball game at a nearby court. Charles, not known for his basketball skills, tried his best to dribble and shoot hoops.

"Mon dieu, Charles, maybe stick to racing, tu es vraiment nul au basket!" Yn teased him, earning a laugh from the others.

Alexandra chuckled, also teasing him, "Yea, mon cher, maybe stick to the racetrack. Your skills on the court are... how do you say... not impressive."

Charles smirked, replying in kind, "Eh bien, at least I'm a world-class driver, not a basketball player. And Yn you think you’re very funny, Yn. Let's see you try" Charles replied, passing the ball to her.

After a few failed attempts, Yn admitted defeat. "Okay, maybe basketball is not my forte either, it's a twins thing"

The group decided to cool off with some ice cream, sharing laughs and stories. Charles couldn't help but admire the way Joris and Yn interacted—the subtle glances, the shared jokes. It was a reminder of the strong bond they all shared.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The following day, the group rented bikes and explored the iconic Venice Beach boardwalk. Charles and Alex shared a tandem e-scooter, while Yn sat on Joris's lap and with Andrea on another.

"Vous avez l'air tellement mignons ensemble!" Alexandra grinned. (You two look so cute together!)

Yn couldn't help but giggle as Joris wrapped his arms around her waist. "Looks like you guys are having fun," Charles shouted from behind them, causing them all to burst out laughing.

Yn blushed, playfully swatting her brother's arm. "Ignorez-lui, il est juste jaloux" Joris calms her before the two siblings start bickering (Ignore him, he’s just jealous)

"Bon, let the race begin!" Charles declared, revving the e-scooter engine.

Andrea struggled to keep up, and Yn couldn't stop giggling at his attempts. The Venice Beach adventure ended with a mini-race, with everyone enjoying the wind in their hair.

Next on the itinerary was a trip from Malibu to Universal Studios. Yn couldn't contain her excitement, especially when they entered The Wizarding World of Harry Potter.

"Charles, we need to buy wands!" Yn exclaimed, practically dragging him into Ollivanders.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Yn whispered, holding her wand and exploring the magical surroundings and Charles chuckled, indulging his sister's enthusiasm "You really are a fan, aren't you?"

Yn winked. "Always."

"Charles, you have to try the butterbeer! It's amazing!" she exclaimed, dragging him toward the Three Broomsticks.

"Alright, alright, I'll give it a go," Charles chuckled, letting Yn lead the way.

Meanwhile, Joris and Alexandra rushed behind them, especially behind Yn. "I can't believe we're here," Joris whispered

"Me neither, but it's magical and they seem so excited," she replied, high fiving him.

"Look at her, she's like a kid in a candy store," Alexandra remarked, her arm intertwined with Charles'’ when they finally reached the twins in a merchandise shop.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The group also spent another day at Six Flags, where Charles, Alex, and Yn attempted to persuade Andrea and Joris to go on some thrilling rides.

"I prefer the safety of solid ground," Joris insisted, while Andrea nodded in agreement.

Charles, not one to be deterred, grabbed Joris and Andrea by their arms and playfully dragged them towards the rides.

"Come on, guys! Live a little!" Charles exclaimed.

"Non, non, pas question," Andrea protested (No, no, out of the question)

Joris nodded in agreement. "We'll pass, thanks"

"Come on, Andrea, we'll hold your hand the whole time," Yn said with a grin.

Yn, ever the persuader, looked at Joris with puppy-dog eyes, "Allez, mon amour, just one ride!"

"Yeah, come on, guys! It's all in good fun," Alexandra urged, exchanging a glance with Yn.

Joris resisted, but Yn's persistence paid off. Andrea, on the other hand, was tougher to crack. Charles, feigning violence, grabbed Andrea and Joris by the collars, threatening with a smile, "You're coming with us, whether you like it or not!"

Andrea finally relented, and the four of them headed to the ride. As they waited in line, Charles couldn't resist teasing Andrea about his fear.

"Don't worry, Andrea, I'll protect you," he joked, wrapping an arm around his trainer.

Andrea rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the smile on his face.

The group's day ended with a whimsical game at the carnival section of Six Flags. A victorious throw won them two enormous plushie bananas. Gleefully, they engaged in a playful banana battle, filling the air with laughter and the occasional thud of soft impacts.

"Attention! Incoming banana attack!" Charles shouted unexpectedly.

Laughter echoed as bananas flew through the air, hitting targets with precision. Alexandra threatened Charles, "If you hit me one more time, you're sleeping on the couch tonight!"

"Banana warfare!" Charles laughed, dodging plushie projectiles.

And they engaged in a hilarious banana fight, Joris and Andrea being the main targets.

The evening continued with board games and ping pong. Charles and Andrea engaged in fierce ping pong battles, while Yn and Alexandra shared laughter and girly moments.

"Hey, Yn, let's go shopping tomorrow before we leave," Alexandra said, breaking Yn out of her thoughts.

Yn grinned. "I would love that"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The following morning, Alexandra and Yn set out for their much-anticipated shopping trip in the heart of Los Angeles. The city's famed boutiques and exclusive shops awaited their exploration. The sunlit streets beckoned them as they strolled, laughter and excitement filling the air.

Their first stop was a trendy boutique showcasing the latest in Los Angeles fashion. Racks adorned with colorful dresses, stylish accessories, and unique pieces lined the walls. Alexandra and Yn eagerly sifted through the racks, exchanging opinions and approving nods.

"I can't believe how different the styles are here," Yn remarked, holding up a vibrant sundress.

Alexandra nodded in agreement. "It's a whole new world of fashion. I love it!"

After finding some stylish additions to their wardrobes, the duo headed to Shepora, that promised exclusive and makeup brands that are not available in Europe.

Yn's eyes widened as she discovered the vibrant array of products, including makeup from House Glass, and other niche brands that had yet to make their way across the Atlantic.

"Alex, look at this! I've heard so much about this and now we can finally try it" Yn exclaimed, her excitement contagious.

Alexandra, equally thrilled, added a few items to her basket. "And House Glass! I've been dying to get my hands on their products. This is like a beauty paradise."

The duo then ventured into clothing stores that were exclusive to the United States. American Vintage, Brandy Melville, and Forever 21 were on their list, promising a unique shopping experience with styles not commonly found in their European wardrobes.

As they explored the racks of clothes and tried on various outfits, the two friends couldn't contain their joy. Yn found a bohemian-style dress at American Vintage that perfectly suited her taste, while Alexandra discovered a trendy jacket at Brandy Melville that she couldn't resist.

With bags full of fashionable finds and exclusive makeup and after a successful shopping spree, the duo met with the rest of the group for a leisurely lunch. They chose a charming outdoor cafe with a relaxed atmosphere, where the California sun cast a warm glow over the scene.The vibrant energy of Los Angeles seemed to follow them, making the meal even more enjoyable.

Charles, Joris, Andrea, Riccardo, Marta, and Antoine were eager to hear about the shopping escapades of the two ladies.

"So, how was the shopping spree, ladies?" Charles asked with a grin.

Yn laughed, "We may have gone a little overboard, but it's all worth it."

Yn and Alexandra couldn't stop sharing their excitement, showcasing their newfound treasures and makeup finds. The group laughed and exchanged stories, creating an atmosphere of camaraderie.

Charles, Joris, Andrea, and the others eagerly greeted Yn and Alexandra, curious about their shopping spoils. The table quickly became a showcase of vibrant fabrics and makeup palettes.

"Wow, those dresses are stunning!" Joris exclaimed, eyeing the bags.

"And look at these makeup goodies! You two are going to turn heads," Charles added with a grin.

"Looks like the shopping trip was a success," Joris remarked, his eyes twinkling.

As they settled into lunch, the conversation flowed seamlessly between bites of delicious California cuisine. Yn and Alexandra recounted their shopping adventures, sharing anecdotes about the unique styles and products they discovered.

"Next time, we're all going shopping together!" exclaimed Marta, glancing at the fashionable purchases.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the city of angels, the group bid farewell to the vibrant streets of Los Angeles. Early the next morning, they would embark on the next leg of their journey, heading to the Vegas Grand Prix.

The excitement in the air was palpable as they boarded the plane, their hearts still buzzing with the memories of the Californian adventure. Ahead lay the glittering lights of Las Vegas, where the roar of engines would once again take center stage in the world of Formula 1.

i hope you liked it and if you want to know more about joris and yn and the adventures they are going to follow stay tuned (drama coming soon)

taglist: @love4lando @gcldtom @im-mi @topguncultleader @celesteblack08 @reblog-princess @sunf1ower16

[bebliafrench]

Lis la Bible: beblia.com 🙏

Dis amen si tu es d'accord

Romains 14:11-12

beblia.com

[chifourmi]

On va encore me dire que je suis en contradiction avec ce que je dis depuis le début mais écoutez il n'y a que les cons qui ne changent pas d'avis. Je suis terrorisée mais je vais me lancer. Je vais écrire une lettre au Dieu Grec où je vais dire tout ce que je ressens. Parce que j'en ai marre de me poser 1000 questions. J'ai envie de sortir tout ça de ma tête et de mettre les choses au clair. S'il ne veut rien tenter de sérieux ce sera pas si grave parce qu'après y aura les vacances et je serai h24 occupée puis après je compte voyager pendant 1 an donc bon. S'il veut tenter du sérieux on profitera à fond des mois qu'on a. Après, je ne lui demanderai pas de m'attendre pendant 1 an évidemment. On fera nos vies de notre côté comme on le sent et quand je reviendrai on verra ce qu'on fait. Mais est-ce que c'est pas un peu égoïste de ma part? Si finalement il veut tenter du sérieux et que je me barre, c'est pas fou. Mais j'ai tellement besoin de lui confier ce que je ressens. J'ai peur de partir sans rien lui avoir dit. Je ne veux pas avoir de regrets. De toute façon je vais lui expliquer que je compte partir pendant 1 an donc ce sera à lui de voir s'il veut se lancer là dedans ou pas. Je suis surexcitée à l'idée d'enfin sortir tout ça de ma tête!!

(01/05/2024)

[e642]

Mon dieu. Quelle journée. Jvais spill the tea c'est trop. Ce matin jme réveille pas parce que j'ai pas dormi donc on part sur irritabilité et fatigue. À 8h yavait les inscriptions pédagogiques de la fac, genre le choix des options de merde qui vont définir un peu nos choix de master en vrai. Donc à 8h pétante j'y suis, je valide, je sors mon contrat, c'est écrit que je suis inscrite mais que j'ai pas de groupe. Gros coup d'angoisse. Si j'ai pas les choix que je veux, bye bye les masters déjà que jsuis pas brillante en plus. J'appelle la fac, ils me disent que globalement ils en ont rien à branler. Démentiel coup d'angoisse bis. Mon père passe dans le salon et me pose la question fatale en cas de panique "ça va ? Ça n'a pas l'air d'aller ?". Jrep avec la voix tremblante + 2/3 larmes. Le mec pète son front, il me dit "t'en as pas marre de pleurer tout le temps ? Tes faible. J'tai pas éduquée pour que tu deviennes une chialeuse". Bon. Bon. Bon. Bouche bée. Il m'a scotchée. Énorme coup d'angoisse tris (bis mais pour trois aled). Jpensais pas que la toxicité pouvait aller jusque là mdrr. Ensuite on doit partir pour que je rentre à nice et accompagne ma mère à l'hôpital pour son cancer. Premier degré, il y a eu 4 accidents sur la route. Donc on arrive en retard. Quand on arrive, la meuf du secrétariat nous dit "tenez les papiers, amusez vous bien". J'ai cru serrer. Ça se voit qu'elle a jamais eu de cancer elle putain de conne là. Ma mère part en consultation. Après on doit reprendre un rdv et j'ai la brillante idée de demander si dans leur hôpital de merde ya pas des psy cancéro pour accompagner les patients malades. La meuf me rép "si mais ils prennent pas de stagiaire, ils pensent que c'est trop traumatisant de voir des malades". J'étais en mode wtf, c'est le but d'un psy voir des gens malades (physique ou psychique), du coup jlui dis que ça tombe bien parce que ma mère traine son cancer depuis 10 ans mdrrr. Du coup elle a ronchonné, puis cédé en mode "je les appellerai". Jamais elle va les appeler. Je rentre à mon appartement et jme rends compte que j'ai besoin de ranger chaque M2 sinon jvais me sentir mal. Donc je range, ça m'a pris des plombes purée. Puis soudain, je suis tombée sur un petit mot que mon mec m'a écrit en scred. Un mot en langage soutenu visiblement, pour le citer: "pipi, prout, je t'aime". Ça a fini de m'achever jcrois. Et là jme retrouve seule comme une débile à attendre la mort. J'ai pas hâte de cette année en vrai. J'ai 50 problèmes qui se déclarent tous en même temps. Puis jme suis dit qu'il faudrait que je m'inscrive à un sport pour grappiller des points (on en est vraiment là), le seul sport encore dispo c'était.. roulement de tambour.... Badminton. Non c'est bon. Jpeux plus endurer cette journée faut que j'aille dormir.

[aurevoirmonty]

« Et je ne connais personne de plus secret et de plus fortifié – comme on le dit d’une ville – que cet homme dont le nom de gloire est Delon. Mille assauts se sont brisés sur ses remparts et souvent les plus féroces. Mille sapes ont été creusées sous lui pour l’investir. Mille risques il a pris pour se défendre et refoncer et je me disais – et je me dis encore – « Bon Dieu, cette fois, il va se faire avoir ! » A ce jour, pourtant, ce joueur, même après les parties les plus dures, s’est toujours levé de table en vainqueur. Et je ne connais personne – mais tout ça va ensemble – de plus farouche et de plus solitaire. Capable de mutismes inouïs, de solitudes barricadées, de colères avalées qui n’explosent que pour retomber dans des silences bruts. Pas commode, l’ami. L’apprivoiser est un rude travail. Le dompter une tâche impossible. Reste qu’il peut donner le meilleur mais ce sera toujours dans un élan ; ou livrer une tendresse mais ce sera toujours comme s’il se défendait encore. De l’orgueil et de la volonté de puissance, à revendre. Mais, de la vanité, aucune, parce qu’il ne demande jamais rien aux autres mais tout à lui-même. Il s’est construit tout seul, à coups de contradictions, de volonté et de rage. »

Jean Cau

[nemosisworld]

...

Je t'ai cherchée à la fenêtre Les parcs en vain sont parfumés Où peux-tu où peux-tu bien être A quoi bon vivre au mois de mai Que sais-tu du malheur d'aimer

Que sais-tu de la longue attente Et ne vivre qu'à te nommer Dieu toujours même et différente Et de toi moi seul à blâmer Que sais-tu du malheur d'aimer

Que je m'oublie et je demeure Comme le rameur sans ramer Sais-tu ce qu'il est long qu'on meure A s'écouter se consumer Connais-tu le malheur d'aimer

Louis Aragon

*

Esther Heesch, modèle

[ekman]

Une très célèbre école de commerce française communiquait récemment vers les entreprises via le réseau socio-professionnel “LinkedIn”. Elle proposait à d’éventuels prospects en quête de performance personnelle de “renforcer leur leadership par la posture coach”. Rien de moins. Cette annonce, si prototypique du monde de merde dans lequel nous régressons chaque jour que post-Dieu fait, m’a soufflé à l’oreille que la décadence s’accélérait. Plusieurs indices émaillent le parcours qui m’a conduit à cette déduction. Sauras-tu les retrouver ?

• L’accroche qui coiffe le visuel s’est armée de “working idioms” du plus bel effet, favorisant une parité bienvenue entre le langage hébergeur véhiculaire (the français) et les “key-words” impactants (l’english). Comme ça, on ne fâche personne et cette façon montrera aux maîtres anglo-saxons que le français n’est plus, effectivement, qu’un verbiage anecdotique sympathique et inoffensif, donc inoffensant, apte à inclusifier toutes sortes d’impétrants racisés.

• La muse en position debout – c’est à dire en posture dominante – est une crépue génétiquement adoucie ayant fait le choix d’une posture alpha (position des bras), réputée non rigide (la coiffure n’est pas tenue) et indiquant une disponibilité sexuelle grâce à son chemisier laissant apercevoir un décolleté demandeur. On subodore, en complément, une croupe marquée. En dessous de cette lauréate du “Programme Court Executive”, les pas encore “executive”, avec un cadre blanc cravaté et barbu, tendance génuflexion et gay friendly ; à sa droite une jolie dame qui pourrait avoir eu un arrière grand-père natif de Hanoï, phénotype synonyme de soumission aux puissants ; en face de lui un petit morceau de pimbèche française dont on a oublié jusqu’au prénom, mais qui transpire sûrement la frustration et l’esprit revenchard. Pour finir, au premier plan, résolument de dos, un chicanos marocain venu livrer les salades “deetox” Uber-Eats du lundi.

• Comme elle a eu du pif pour booster sa carrière, Christine (appelons-la “Christine”, en hommage à Christine Kelly, la jolie journaliste caribéo-bolloréenne) a voulu améliorer son écoute et adapter son style de leadership, ce qui ne veut absolument rien dire. Elle a, pour ce faire, exploré son cadre de référence et développé son intelligence émotionnelle, ce qui n’en dit pas vraiment beaucoup plus – sauf que “intelligence émotionnelle” indique un embryon d’altruisme post-industriel de bon aloi.

• La signature de ce pavé publicitaire pour le programme “Posture Coach” de cette célébrissime école orientée vers les études commerciales d’altitude, spécifie qu’il développera l’écoute, permettra de questionner efficacement tout en adaptant son style de management. Une promesse en trois points qui aurait sans doute reçu un écho favorable rue Lauriston.

Voilà, vous savez tout. La clé du succès de votre carrière tient à bien peu de choses. Il vous suffit de vous conformer aux standards américano-bolchéviques du moment et votre promotion sera garantie. Soyez “open et bienveillant”, massacrez la piétaille avec le sourire, suggérez une réductions des privilèges carbonés pour maintenir la stratégie éco-favorable sur sa courbe zénithale, trafiquez vos résultats comme Nono-le Rigolo et tout se passera bien pour vous. Enfin n’oubliez pas de souhaiter à vos interlocuteurs une “belle journée” en conclusion de chacun de vos courriels – pardon, de vos mails.

J.-M. M.

[thebrickinbrick]

Waiting

DURING those hours of waiting, what did they do? We must needs tell, since this is a matter of history.

While the men made bullets and the women lint, while a large saucepan of melted brass and lead, destined to the bullet-mould smoked over a glowing brazier, while the sentinels watched, weapon in hand, on the barricade, while Enjolras, whom it was impossible to divert, kept an eye on the sentinels,

Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Jean Prouvaire, Feuilly, Bossuet, Joly, Bahorel, and some others, sought each other out and united as in the most peaceful days of their conversations in their student life, and, in one corner of this wine-shop which had been converted into a casement, a couple of paces distant from the redoubt which they had built, with their carbines loaded and primed resting against the backs of their chairs, these fine young fellows, so close to a supreme hour, began to recite love verses. What verses?

These:

Vous rappelez-vous notre douce vie, Lorsque nous étions si jeunes tous deux, Et que nous n'avions au cœur d'autre envie Que d'être bien mis et d'être amoureux, Lorsqu'en ajoutant votre age à mon age, Nous ne comptions pas à deux quarante ans, Et que, dans notre humble et petit ménage, Tout, même l'hiver, nous était printemps?

Beaux jours! Manuel etait fier et sage, Paris s'asseyait à de saints banquets, Foy lançait la foudre, et votre corsage Avait une épingle où je me piquais. Tout vous contemplait. Avocat sans causes, Quand je vous menais au Prado dîner, Vous étiez jolie au point que les roses Me faisaient l'effet de se retourner.

Je les entendais dire: Est elle belle! Comme elle sent bon! Quels cheveux à fiots Sous son mantelet elle cache une aile, Son bonnet charmant est à peine éclos. J'errais avec toi, pressant ton bras souple. Les passants crovaient que l'amour charmé Avait marié, dans notre heureux couple, Le doux mois d'avril au beau mois de mai.

Nous vivions cachés, contents, porte close, Dévorant l'amour, bon fruit défendu, Ma bouche n'avait pas dit une chose Que déjà ton cœur avait répondu.

La Sorbonne était l'endroit bucolique Où je t'adorais du soir au matin. C'est ainsi qu'une âme amoureuse applique La carte du Tendre au pays Latin.

O place Maubert! ô place Dauphine! Quand, dans le taudis frais et printanier, Tu tirais ton bas sur ton jambe fine, Je voyais un astre au fond du grenier. J'ai fort lu Platon, mais rien ne m'en reste; Mieux que Malebranche et que Lamennais Tu me démontrais la bonté céleste Avec une fleur que tu me donnais.

Je t'obéissais, tu m'étais soumise; O grenier doré! te lacer! te voir Aller et venir dès l'aube en chemise, Mirant ton jeune front à ton vieux miroir. Et qui donc pourrait perdre la mémoire De ces temps d'aurore et de firmament, De rubans, de fleurs, de gaze et de moire, Où l'amour bégaye un argot charmant? Nos jardins étaient un pot de tulipe; Tu masquais la vitre avec un jupon; Je prenais le bol de terre de pipe, Et je te donnais le tasse en japon.

Et ces grands malheurs qui nous faisaient rire! Ton manchon brûlé, ton boa perdu! Et ce cher portrait du divin Shakespeare Qu'un soir pour souper nons avons vendu!

J'étais mendiant et toi charitable. Je baisais au vol tes bras frais et ronds. Dante in folio nous servait de table Pour manger gaîment un cent de marrons. La première fois qu'en mon joyeux bouge Je pris un baiser a ton lèvre en feu, Quand tu t'en allais décoiffée et rouge, Je restai tout pâle et je crus en Dieu! Te rappelles-tu nos bonheurs sans nombre, Et tous ces fichus changés en chiffons? Oh que de soupirs, de nos cœurs pleins d'ombre, Se sont envolés dans les cieux profonds!(1)

The hour, the spot, these souvenirs of youth recalled, a few stars which began to twinkle in the sky, the funeral repose of those deserted streets, the imminence of the inexorable adventure which was in preparation, gave a pathetic charm to these verses murmured in a low tone in the dusk by Jean Prouvaire, who, as we have said, was a gentle poet.

In the meantime, a lamp had been lighted in the small barricade, and in the large one, one of those wax torches such as are to be met with on Shrove-Tuesday in front of vehicles loaded with masks, on their way to la Courtille. These torches, as the reader has seen, came from the Faubourg Saint-Antoine.

The torch had been placed in a sort of cage of paving-stones closed on three sides to shelter it from the wind, and disposed in such a fashion that all the light fell on the flag. The street and the barricade remained sunk in gloom, and nothing was to be seen except the red flag formidably illuminated as by an enormous dark-lantern.

This light enhanced the scarlet of the flag, with an indescribable and terrible purple.

(1) Do you remember our sweet life, when we were both so young, and when we had no other desire in our hearts than to be well dressed and in love? When, by adding your age to my age, we could not count forty years between us, and when, in our humble and tiny household, everything was spring to us even in winter. Fair days! Manuel was proud and wise, Paris sat at sacred banquets, Foy launched thunderbolts, and your corsage had a pin on which I pricked myself. Everything gazed upon you. A briefless lawyer, when I took you to the Prado to dine, you were so beautiful that the roses seemed to me to trn round, and I heard them say: Is she not beautiful! How good she smells! What billowing hair! Beneath her mantle she hides a wing. Her charming bonnet is hardly unfolded. I wandered with thee, pressing thy supple arm. The passers-by thought that love bewitched had wedded, in our happy couple, he gentle month of April to the fair month of May. We lived concealed, conent, with closed doors, devouring love, that sweed forbidden fruit. My mouth had not uttered a thing when thy heart had already responded. The Sorbonne was the bucolic spot where I adored thee from eve till morn. 'Tis thus that an amorous soul applies the chart of the Tender to the Latin country. O Place Maubert! O Place Dauphine! When in the fresh spring-like hut thou didst draw thy stocking on thy delicate leg, I saw a star in the depths of the garret. I have read a great deal of Plato, but nothing of it remains by me; better than Malebranche and than Lamennais thou didst demonstrate to me celestial goodness with a flower which thou gavest to me. I obeyed thee, thou didst submit to me; oh gilded garret! to lace thee! to behold thee going and coming from dawn in thy chemise, gazing at thy yourg brow in thine ancient mirror! And who, then, would forego the memory of those days of aurora and the firmament, of flowers, of gauze and of moire. when love stammers a charming slang? Our gardens consisted of a pot of tulips; thou didst mask the window with thy petticoat; I took the earthenware bowl and I gave thee the Japanese cup. And those great misfortunes which made us laugh! Thy cuff scorched, thy boa lost! And that dear portrait of the divine Shakespeare which we sold one evening that we might sup! I was a beggar and thou wert charitable. I kissed thy fresh round arms in haste. A folio Danto served us as a table on which to eat merrily a centime's worth of chestnuts. The first time that. in my joyous den, I snatched a kiss from thy fiery lip, when thou wentest forth, dishevelled and blushing, I turned deathly pale and I believed in God. Dost thou recall our innumerable joys, and all those fichus changed to rags? Oh! what sighs from our hearts full of gloom fluttered forth to the heavenly depths!”

[raisongardee]

"Mais voici : l’Eglise et l’Etat ayant été séparés par le simple fait d’une législation athée, l’Eglise a été privée du concours des lois civiles de répression et le pauvre têtard politique appelé bourgeois, sollicité à la fois, comme Hercule adolescent, par le vice et par la vertu, s’en est allé du côté où l’on avait l’air de s’amuser davantage et il est devenu franc-maçon. C’est l’affaire d’un homme de génie de raconter l’histoire des progrès de la bêtise européenne dus à l’extraordinaire diffusion de la lumière maçonnique dans ce dernier siècle. Nous avons tous connu de ces bons imbéciles, fiers de leurs insignes et décrétant à tout propos leur propre importance, contempteur adipeux de la religion et du clergé, parfaitement assurés d’être redoutables à Dieu et aux rois en se reposant des vulgaires soucis de leur boutique et de leur ménage par le fraternel délassement des travaux de table. Ces ruminants ont été montrés dans mille romans et ils ont fait les délices de plusieurs littératures. Mais c’est surtout en province qu’il est agréable de les étudier […] Il ne s’agit pas seulement de sauver les âmes et de sauver les Etats, il faut encore sauver l’intelligence humaine qui est en perdition sur un océan de bêtise et qui va tout à l’heure être engloutie. Mais, hélas ! il est bien tard. Quand les hommes faits pour obéir n’ont plus de maîtres, ils les remplacent aussitôt par des tyrans et se précipitent à l’esclavage."

Léon Bloy, Propos d’un entrepreneur de démolitions, 1884.

[ernestinee]

Je l'avais noté l'autre jour, j'ai entamé "Réparer les vivants". Trois jeunes garçons qui vont surfer de bon matin et ont un accident de van sur la route du retour. Un accident grave pour deux d'entre eux, mortel pour le troisième.

Ce sera l'histoire d'une transplantation d'organes.

Pour l'instant, c'est l'histoire d'une mère qui reçoit le coup de fil qu'on redoute tellement, votre fils a eu un accident, c'est grave. Qui apprend à l'accueil de l'hôpital qu'elle doit aller aux urgences, aux urgences qu'elle doit aller en réa. En réa que son fils est dans le coma, que les constantes sont de moins en moins bonnes, les réactions du cerveau de plus en plus faibles. Le cerveau se noie dans le sang.

Elle ne le sait pas encore, parce qu'elle a couru avec ce qui lui restait de jambes, s'est réfugiée dans le parking, a hurlé dans sa voiture, tapé de toutes ses forces sur le volant. Elle ne le sait pas encore mais on vient d'apprendre que son fils est en état de mort cérébrale et mon dieu mon cerveau va exploser comment est la vie quand on perd ce qui est le plus précieux.

J'ouvre le livre un peu plus loin puis plus loin puis plus loin, je veux croiser encore le nom de cette mère, je veux m'assurer qu'elle sera encore dans l'histoire, qu'on ne la laissera pas en plan.

C'est fou comme la vie est fragile et précieuse. J'hésite à continuer cette lecture car je sens mon empathie un peu trop développée, je viens de pleurer un bon quart d'heure à gros sanglots, je viens de m'imaginer dans cette situation, dire à son père que je n'ai plus la force de vivre, que ça n'ira pas, ça le fera pas, désolée. Et son regard qui n'a aucun argument contre ça. Oui je comprends, moi non plus. J'entends mon ado dans sa chambre et j'ai soudain tellement peur. Je suis au calme dans le salon. L'homme dort déjà. L'ado joue à je ne sais quel jeu avec je ne sais quels potes et j'ai envie que rien ne change.