brume-noire

Folie maladive

Vendredi 18 juin 2010 à 19:38

PLUIE ENIVRANTE :


llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

C'était un après midi de mois de juin,à Londres.
Il pleuvait, Linda, petite rousse aux yeux vert-marron presque jaune avec ses couettes bouffantes, cheveux remplis de mèches noires, ayant de longues extensions dégradés de noir jusqu'à blanc la regardait.
Elle se demandait si un dieu n'était pas derrière, car selon la mythologie quand il y avait un orage c'est que Zeus et Héra se disputaient.
Elle pensa aussi aux Shinigami, êtres de légendes Japonaises, gardiens de quartiers pour les bons, tueurs d'humains pour les mauvais et chasseurs de démons pour ceux entre les deux. Est ce qu'un Shinigami faisait en sorte qu'il pleuve pour éviter que le quartier soit puni par le mauvais oeil ?
A moins que les étoiles étaient tristes car le soleil prenait leurs place très longtemps, plus longtemps que pendant l'hiver...
Alors pour se venger elles envoyaient des nuages pour le cacher!
Les méchantes ...
Par trêve de rêverie elle décida de sortir, la jeune fille de 25 ans désormais sortie se laissait mouiller par cette belle pluie d'été. Une pluie enivrante. La petite punk tournait, tournait ... rêvait.
Il était désormais 22h il s'arrêta de pleuvoir, les nuages s'enlevèrent laissant place a un ciel étoilé.
Linda les regardait elle s'était allongée sur les trottoirs de Londres, il n'y avait personne ce soir, la capitale était déserte.
Les étoiles semblaient rire, elles avaient l'air de chuchoter qu'elles s'étaient bien vengées de leur vieil ami et rival: Le soleil. La filles aux extensions laissa échapper un :
-Vous vous êtes bien vengées? Laissez moi vous dire merci, je n'ai jamais passé d'aussi bon moment depuis longtemps.
Un rire s'échappa.
Etait-ce de la jeune fille ? De Zeus? D'Héra ? Des Shinigami ? Ou encore ... Des étoiles elle mêmes ? Personne ne le saura jamais.
Et sur ces pas, Linda s'éloigna .

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

llllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll
Citation du jour:

"La pluie, la pluie fait des claquettes sur le trottoir a minuit .Parfois je m'y arrête, je l'écoute j'applaudis. Je suis son chapeau claque, son queue-de-pie vertical, son sourire de nacre, sa pointure de cristal"
Claude Nougaro

Mercredi 16 juin 2010 à 17:18

Hellow,

Déjà, voici mon blog.
Ceci n'est qu'une page web ... Mais elle m'appartiens
J'y met ce que je veut du moment que je ne dévoile pas mon véritable nom.

Il parait que je ne suis pas bien selon les normaux ,
Mais que veut dire normal?
Il n'y a pas de définition.
J'ai quinze ballet et pas de style particulier.
Chuis décadente à en crever ,
attention a ceux qui n'aiment pas la folie ambulante,
Il parait que j'en suis l'incarnation...
Chuis fan de Burton, j' l'ai été à deux ans.
Il parait que ce n'est pas banal.
Il parait .
Je dessine , je filme, je chante, je photographie & écris.

On me dit souvent que je suis barrée! Mais je trouve que ce sont les normaux qui sont barrés! Je ne trouve pas ça normal ceux qui se suivent comme des moutons dans la masse. Un troupeau véritable, de clones... Sans véritable personnalité.


Citation du jour :

"On m'a vu en France passer du temps la tête dans le sable
La bouche cousue, à observer
M'enivrer de visages, beauté par les années un vécu, une tannée
J'y ai croisé des zéros, des Zorros, des héros, des paumés
Un éventail de tout ce que j'ai subi, à travers les folies de ma vie
Celle que j'imagine, depuis que je suis petit, depuis que la lumière
M'a faussé compagnie
Injall lui ne m'a pas quitté
Celui qui vit dedans, celui qui tient les mots
Il ne me quitte pas, le salaud"
Pleymo , Le voyage de Rock

Dessin:
Timothy William Burton, Frankenweennie

<< Page précédente | 1 | Page suivante >>

Créer un podcast