In those days I thought about myself as a bird in a cage waiting for the day when I would be released into a real life. And when that moment came life and time started to speed up. Today they speed up even more.
***
The bus station "High school". I am getting off only to take another bus to another station "Future." My friends and I are heading to this station. We all are a little bit rebellious, a little bit anarchistic. We don't believe in fate, we believe in ourselves.
***
My friend reads stuff the others don't read. He reads Camus. I read Scott Fitzgerald and bored by him. We all are pretentious. What else is youth for?
***
Our parents see things differently. They know what is the best for us. We don't believe in their best, we want to be involved, to love, to live...
***
My best friend disappears. The next several months I spend thinking about all the angles and corners of his disappearance. This is my first experience of death. It crashes me. "She survived to tell the story"- what people say, don't they. Yes and no.
***
Si tu aimes les soirs de pluie
ReplyDeleteMon enfant, mon enfant
Les ruelles de l'Italie
Et les pas des passants
L'éternelle litanie
Des feuilles mortes dans le vent
Qui poussent un dernier cri
Crie mon enfant
Si tu aimes les éclaircies
Mon enfant, mon enfant
Prendre un bain de minuit
Dans le grand océan
Si tu aimes la mauvaise vie
Ton reflet dans l'étang
Si tu veux tes amis
Près de toi tout le temps
Si tu pries quand la nuit tombe
Mon enfant, mon enfant
Si tu ne fleuris pas les tombes
Mais chéris les absents
Si tu as peur de la bombe
Et du ciel trop grand
Si tu parles à ton ombre
De temps en temps
Si tu aimes la marée basse
Mon enfant, mon enfant
Le soleil sur la terrasse
Et la lune sous le vent
Si l'on perd souvent ta trace
Dès qu'arrive le printemps
Si la vie te dépasse
Passe mon enfant
Ca n'est pas ta faute
C'est Ton héritage
Et ce sera pire encore
Quand tu auras mon âge
Ca n'est pas ta faute
C'est ta chair, ton sang
Il va falloir faire avec
Ou plutôt sans
Si tu oublies les prénoms
Les adresses et les âges
Mais presque jamais le son
D'une voix, un visage
Si tu aimes ce qui est bon
Si tu vois des mirages
Si tu préfères Paris
Quand vient l'orage
Si tu aimes les goûts amers
Et les hivers tout blancs
Si tu aimes les derniers verres
Et les mystères troublants
Si tu aimes sentir la terre
Et jaillir le volcan
Si tu as peur du vide
Vide mon enfant
Ca n'est pas ta faute
C'est Ton héritage
Et ce sera pire encore
Quand tu auras mon âge
Ca n'est pas ta faute
C'est ta chair, ton sang
Il va falloir faire avec
Ou plutôt sans
Si tu aimes partir avant
Mon enfant, mon enfant
Avant que l'autre s'éveille
Avant qu'il te laisse en plan
Si tu as peur du sommeil
Et que passe le temps
Si tu aimes l'automne vermeil
Merveille rouge sang
Si tu as peur de la foule
Mais supporte les gens
Si tes idéaux s'écroulent
Le soir de tes 20 ans
Et si tout se déroule
Jamais comme dans tes plans
Si tu n'es qu'une pierre qui roule
Roule mon enfant
Ca n'est pas ta faute
C'est Ton héritage
Et ça sera pire encore
Quand tu auras mon âge
Ca n'est pas ta faute
C'est ta chair, ton sang
Il va falloir faire avec
Ou plutôt sans
Mon enfant... Mon enfant...
"ton héritage"
Benjamin Biolay
I enjoyed this post, Kaya. You continue to put bits and pieces of yourself in the open for scrutiny, and I like to "study" how people view (and have viewed) themselves at various stages of their lives as a means for learning.
ReplyDeleteWhen I think of Albert Camus, I think of existentialism. When I think of existentialism, I think of how journalists (and others) today either misuse the word or are attempting to simplify its meaning. When I think of F. Scott Fitzgerald, I become sleepy because he is boring. I live within walking distance of the home where he rewrote and revised, "The Romantic Egotist," into "This Side of Paradise." But, I never have been there because he is so very/very boring that I am afraid I might catch it.
Sobre la imagen, simplemente que es espectacular... Sobre tus palabras, simplemente que nuestras vidas son de cristal
ReplyDeleteUn abrazo
Who can not fall in love with the tones of the leaves? The story has a captivating storyline, even if the ending is not positive.
ReplyDeleteEmotives paraules, Preciosa, imatge,Kaya.
ReplyDeleteUna abraçada.
Красивая песня. Как и фото.
ReplyDeleteСоболезную, Кая...
Es una maravillosa postal otoñal. sus colores son muy representativos.
ReplyDeleteBesos
Good one...different perspective of self
ReplyDeletePrecioso acercamiento al otoño, Kaya, bonito detalle y con una composición muy atrayente.
ReplyDeleteSaludos.
ReplyDeleteI read this earlier, but wanted to think about it a bit before commenting. It is quite moving. Is this a true life story, did you have a friend who disappeared?
"We don't believe in fate, we believe in ourselves."
This is like a song lyric!
Sandi, this is a true life story!
DeleteThank you!
impressive life story...
ReplyDeletethank you for sharing....
Hermosos colores otoñales para recordar a un amigo que desapareció en la primavera de la juventud.
ReplyDeleteUn abrazo,
gorgeous photo and I'm liking reading your thoughts.
ReplyDeleteI listened to this video last night and so beautiful. I want to hear more by him. Have you ever listened to "Govi". Right now I'm googling who played Violin or Cello on most of his CD's. I think I may have found who it is.... i would love to see him in concert. My dream would be to travel to Andalusia Spain and watch him in concert at an outdoor venue by the water. I have most of his CD's and one of them I love is Andalusian Nights. ahhh.. I don't even know if he's every played there but I imagine it!
ReplyDeleteSandy, I am glad that you liked Benjamine Biolay. I have never listened to "Govi" but I am going to do it. Oh, Andalusia Spain... I will never see this part of the world but I hope that some day your dream will come true and you will watch his concert by the water. This is such a beautiful dream!
DeleteThank you for introducing me to "Govi". I am going on YouTube to find him.
By the way, I dream also going to Spain...
A warm hug.
so we go and in my dream, haha...we meet at the concert ...now that would be COOL.
DeleteYes, it would be COOL!!!!
Delete