The cathedral of Notre Dame is burning. As a former historian of art and Parisian, my heart bleeds with sadness. I have no word…
There is some things around us that we think eternal, Notre Dame is one of this forgone conclusion. Since 856 years, she was and is the heart and soul of Paris. She is the witness of so much events through time.
But you know even if what happened today is a real shock, she will survive and like a phœnix she will rise from her ashes. Because she is a symbol, the memory of our History not only for the French people but also for the rest of the world as a UNESCO heritage site.
It will take time and maybe I will not witness it in this life, but the time will come where she will spread his comforting shadow on Paris again, and lighten our hearts and our souls with her beauty.
The only good news in this catastrophe, there is no casualty. And I pray none firefighter of Paris will be hurt.
I didn’t have access to news for some days. I was in my bubble, working. When I decide to join again the rest of the world, I receive a notification on Twitter about Christchurch. And I was horrified by the news.
For whatever reason, religion, color of your skin, sexuality, etc. Whatever the form hate may take, nothing can justify mass murder.
Life is precious. Life is a little miracle. And those who wipe this little light out are sacrilege.
Extremist from all horizons are wrong. Because none ideology, political or religious can justify to sacrify human lives. History is full of exemples in this sense. Sadly a part of Humanity tends forward to forget or erase what disturb their aim. Or deform the meaning to reach their target.
Murder is not the solution. Murder was never the solution.
Violence is the response of powerless. Of those who giving up their humanity let free will to their animality. Of those who give up the power of words for the one of weapons.
This little flame in memory of the victims, to say my solidarity with the families, and my sadness.
I’ve got a mail from All Out about LGBT+ people in Chechenya and read the press acticles about it.
When we read this kind of tragedy, the world turns frightening. And sometimes, I think that it is a lost battle, that the human are, as say the quote, a wolf among wolf and there is few hope something ever changes. You would think those atrocities of the past are only there to remember us how much Human being is monstrous thirsty for power and domination feeding from fear and hate. And that words as fraternity, liberty or equality in rights are just vain, meaningless. As if the errors from the past, like people use to call them, were not finaly errors but an asserted will. That the human is only destruction and oppression. that the balance between the malevolence and the benevolence is nothing else that a perpetual fight. The Yin and the Yang hugged for eternity. A weak equilibrium ready to tumble.
And, we ask ourself how to eradicate hate, fear, lack of understanding of the other one. We expect that it is a possibility but finally, looking around us, hope is few to see one day the human acquires enough wisdow, foresight and perspective to succeed. This needs some sacrifices that the Humanity is not ready for. In spite of polishing of ages, the human being stays a primal individual. And none advance as technological as to be will not change this fact. Except for a whole and sincere awareness, atrocities as the ones that took place in the past during our evolution, and those ones that take place today will remain through the world.
On a ground of hate only flowers of terror blossom.
You’re my drug,
A painful desire.
An irresistible need eats me,
to touch you, to kiss you,
to feel your hand
The urge to feel
your skin on my skin
then, your lips on my lips.
Playing the indifference
as I wait for the invasion.
Fighting for control
while impatient to surrender.
I lick you and bite you so strongly
to mark you as mine
drived by a cruel instinct,
wanting to taste blood, yours,
as you take me,
as you move inside me.
Your darker skin brushing past my pale one.
Smelling the spicy perfum of love,
as I look at your eyes when the pleasure takes you.
Crying when finally I lost control, taken away by the passion.
Later, letting myself so languid in your arms
defenseless when the storm of love subside
as we try to make our breath calm down
your eyes in mine as you stay still in me
making this instant last,
before the inexorable separation.
Then, hidden in the hollow of your shoulder
closing my eyes, I bury my tears in silence
and I smile to not cry,
feeling already the lack.
If I let the fear conquer me I can’t do anything.
And I am lost.
I feel like a slave.
And the defeat is in my soul.
But if I look to my fear squarely, if I keep all my minds on what I do.
I can push my body to the limit.
I can be high.
I can conquer.
I can defeat the darkness.
Always more high, again and again.
Only focused on the need to move forward, to go up, in spite of the pain.
To keep the rythme.
To be the best.
To feel my body do what I want.
To move on all the gestures with grace, elegance, power and creativity.
To be in control.
At the end my body exhausted, I know : nothing is impossible.
Forgotten the fall.
Forgotten the hurt.
Forgotten the defeat.
Only the pleasure to give all of me, to gain my freedom.
I feel strong
I feel free.
I am free.
I feel like I can conquer the world.
It’s a drug.
I can’t stop that.
It’s my breathing ; only my breathing.