#villevide

[jeanpierrepetry]

Toulouse, la belle ville rose. Mais vide, en cette période de Corona virus #toulouse #HauteGaronne #occitanie #midipyrennees #ig_hautegaronne #francefr #igerstoulouse #toulousemaville #visiteztoulouse #vide #villevide #virus #placeducapitol (à Toulouse, France) https://www.instagram.com/p/B9y0rZFqxro/?igshid=pln58hboxwe3

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[hlauggsiotsgsaejgimtoa-blog]

Dream

I can easily trick myself into denial, but usually a superficial form of denial, which means I simply stop pronouncing the word the notion of which I think I should be dubious about by reasoning, which normally involve those, mostly positive, with more or less extravagant tones, (I do say fabulous, fantastic, amazing quite often, but only for the sake of expressing an exclamation without bothering to define them.), e.g. dream. I use dream in its basic literal sense neutrally as in "I had a dream last night. I dreamt of a speaking dog." etc., whereas figuratively or metaphorically I might mention nightmare but seldom dream referring to the future as something aspirational or hopeful, and facing the optimist friends shouting out "I am a person with dreams (to achieve)!", annoyed and nauseated is usually what I feel, which is paradoxical, since I've discovered that I am the type of creature which feeds on dreams. I know some say the more zen attitude is to focus on the "now" and the dependence on the future can be as heavy a burden as that on the past, and that we may enter a less troubled state of mind with less desires, but I am not able to do so, or am I not old enough to be that serene? Anyway, I see desire more of a friend than an enemy that the miseryfree fearfree desirefree comfortable time was a threat to me, because there was nothing to want. However, along time, as so many have repeatedly filled the contents of dream with what I've been busying myself to escape to a point I no longer feel it relevant, I did not realize that from the very beginning the hue of my perception of the world was set by the dream by someone who cosseted me in a way my parents would not even do. She never told me what to do, what goal to achieve or who to become, which I wouldn't have understood anyway, but simply patched my sails and sharpened my wings and then pointed afar and said, "go". I don't know if I should thank or blame her, thank her for the unusual road I've traveled and still on, blame her for having to deal with moments of being lost. All that written, I know I am being unreasonable to hold someone responsible for what I've been experiencing, which I myself find surprising, but I guess I just miss her so much and cannot neglect the joke that she who started my dream did not hold on to hers. Somehow, I do not want to continue lingering in the wreckage of the ship, because for those which are still sailing, there are still storms to come for which one should prepare for. I know my discomfort with a word cannot be changed overnight but the realization that the rejection of the signifying does not imply that of the signified can be quite deliberating and that not naming something does not mean my denying to its existence which I never stop sculpturing, so next time I should give some extra thought about whether my whole vision is really that somber.

[jeanpierrepetry]

Toulouse, la belle ville rose. Mais vide, en cette période de Corona virus #toulouse #HauteGaronne #occitanie #midipyrennees #ig_hautegaronne #francefr #igerstoulouse #toulousemaville #visiteztoulouse #vide #villevide #virus #placeducapitol (à Place du Capitole) https://www.instagram.com/p/B9y0hNsKfPp/?igshid=j201ok9izuxy

[jeanpierrepetry]

Vide, vide, sans âme qui vivent. Ça fait bizarre #jeanpierrepetry #jeanpierrep3 #toulouse #HauteGaronne #occitanie #midipyrennees #ig_hautegaronne #francefr #igerstoulouse #toulousemaville #visiteztoulouse #villerose #villevide (à Toulouse, France) https://www.instagram.com/p/B94InqxK91F/?igshid=1bopqqil1e9s2

[hlauggsiotsgsaejgimtoa-blog]

Snap the sky

'What is the point of taking photos of sky and clouds?' somebody asked me, to which I know the answer 'that piece of cloud is so beautiful that it makes me want to scream." will not make me look any less crazier, so I gave a shrug of I've-no-idea, but what I was sure was that I certainly preferred clumsy photos of sky, clouds, streets to those of them. I hate being sentimental, or I hate showing that. When you try to decipher codes, it becomes hard to feel emotional before any stories in novels which aim to play with pathos. I cannot remember crying over anything that can be defined as sadness or happiness, which does not mean I've lost my faculty of crying. I do cry, only not before a film or someone's unfortunate family story or the 'tragedy' of the hero in the epics...anything that you 'are supposed' to shed tears for, but I'd cry reading a crazily jumbled passage seeming like some lunatic's charabia, or remembering the location of a past period but not able to fill it with any contents, or, seeing anything that is vast, the sea, the desert, or the sky... hopefulness, hopelessness, no use to define. I guess I'm just not used to it, all of it, being so real and unreal at the same time.

[hlauggsiotsgsaejgimtoa-blog]

I thought...

I thought I'd had my closure. I thought I'd figured everything out. I thought I'd safely sorted out and stored the broken pieces up high in the attic. I thought I'd transformed all the potential disturbing forces into steady, peaceful, quiet, pleasant dripping raindrops, chill, sweet and refreshing...but somehow, a friend has 'helped' me to open that door again, and the dam broke down and the devastating flood strikes me again. Hot flashes. I don't know. These are the things I am incapable to put together by logic, invading my waking mind and my dreams, which is why six or seven hours before everything comes back to life, I am already awake, trying to find a way to forget again.

I want to feel safe again and from gathering past experiences, I can only feel safe when my awareness that there is nothing to hold on to is strong. I know it's not the normal way but works for me. The detachment and honest admission of the nothingness are what bring me courage. I can, from time to time, cherish friendship, kindredship, or any kind of emotional bonds, but once sensing the tendency to truly rely on them, I shiver. I guess I can only believe them on a certain level, beyond which I still see the barriers for each impossible to cross. The closest feeling I've ever had only existed seconds in their eyes. So, although I never throw anyone away, keeping them as treasures, keeping adoring or even worshiping all the characters who amaze me, I avoid attachment, especially with her, my best and worst time with her. I know the feeling of being elevated by such an extraordinary person is real and something I've never experienced. Seeing her fly makes want to too. But thinking about her still hurts. Perhaps, let me try again with my reasoning to have an explanation, that I have indeed been changed and crossing over her path has brought the aspiration for myself that I've never had, but meanwhile, the hope she has injected in me sometimes feels too much. It's too high and too far. It can exhaust me, frustrate me and crush me. Perhaps, I should simply keep the aspiration and detach it from her, so that I won't feel the freezing cold hands of hers in my dreams...

In about four hours the sun will rise again. I'd like to go on the road again, I'd like to be on my own again, and I'd like to go back to being the beast again, de-sentimentalizing myself, again...because I make a difference between the me and the non me, the inevitable consequence of being born and the unavoidable state of being.