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my playlist contains nothing but songs that were written to me with lyrics telling stories from my life.

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today, i washed my hair

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should i maybe sometime introduce myself? or should i remain sort of anonymous?

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did i get my swagga back?

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and every time i see you, you just walk away

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i'll leave it behind and i'll restart my life

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i keep waking up before the alarm tells me to, but not in that stressed "god-i'm-late"-way, that i'm so used to.

i've even cleaned my place

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i wanted revenge,
so, so did he

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i bet i was sort of right, because it's getting harder to find my words and usually i'm full with them.

i even stopped biting my nails

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i've been to a party so i past out on the patio,
outside of your back door. and i've been here before,
12 times.

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i don't even know why yet, but i know something good will be, after the 12 hours of sleep i passed this night.

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200 days.

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every story has at least two sides.
but i might have forgotten mine.

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suffocation


all the ways i promised to neverever hurt myself again make deeper cuts than ever and i'm all alone in some sort of "tomorrow-will-be-better"-thinking.

it won't

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i want you to feel pain

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the red wine leaves marks on my lips and i can tell from the look of your eyes that you want to kiss those marks away

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this is no way for me to share my life with the world. it's a way for me to share my life with myself.

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i deleted your number, even though it doesn't make any difference, since i could tell it to anyone who violently woke me up in the middle of the night, asking for it.

and i think the alcohol is speaking more than i do.

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after a couple of beer, all my emotions burst in to some kind of strange life of their own.
if i down one more, they'll be gone and if i don't; if i go home instead, if i put that music, that i banned, back on they take my body and especially my mind somewhere unknown, that i can't escape from.

and that i can't even fall asleep from

we are not in love
(you are not in love)

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in so many ways, i keep bringing myself down, without wanting it nor knowing it

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and all of a sudden, he feels very far away, in a good way.

maybe i'm starting to realise that everything that happens, actually has a reason?

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"-what is your problem?"

"-if i only had one..."

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i keep doing everything a little bit too much

my life is a lovestory part 6

i was his boss, i hired him at work.
he showed interest in me straight away, but i just igonred it, and secretly i still thought about the boy with the curly hair.
he asked me out for a beer one night and i figured why not, but i did not have any intentions about anything but a beer and so it stayed.

another night, a couple of weeks later, i brought all my colleagues to my regular bar, and for some reason we ended up going home together him and i, in the cold february night. we spent the entire night listening to music and talking about everything from our childhood to our future plans.
we kissed and we slept naked that night.
i ignored him at work after, but he kept insisting on spending time with me.
so, he came to my place a late night, putting up his cards on the table. we were stupid and he was supposed to work at noon the day after. i was scared of drinking water and i could not even buy my own cigarettes in the morning, he held me tight and i only fell asleep long after he left for work.

he helped me moving and took me out to restaurants. for me, those restaurants dates were never dates. they were nothing.

we started going home from work together, often with a pause for a beer on the way. and once, when he was supposed to go to a bar and meet his friends, the words “stay with me” slipped out of my mouth and he stayed with me, almost every day.

if the boys i had been with before were crazy, this one was out of his own mind, and i was the same.
we did, what might appear, the most stupid things together.
but he definitely dragged out a side of me that i did not know before. a side that actually is the real me; i was no longer scared of awakening peoples curiosity in the street. i screamed and shouted if i wanted to, we fought, for fun, a lot.
we made love in every corner of every street, if we had the possibility, and well, sometimes we did not care if we had it or not.

we both left the place we used to work at, within a couple of weeks time in april. and we went travelling. he wanted to see my country, so there we went, and we worked our way back to paris by passing by some other cities.
the last day, in the last city, before going home, i got the same feeling in my stomach that i had felt six years earlier.
we got home and he stopped replying to my texts and calls.
he litterally shut me out of his life and i did not know it was possible to cry as much as i did.

i have only seen him briefly ever since, and my heart is still blowing in to a million pieces when i think of him.

my life is a lovestory part 5

(this is not a lovestory, but it is an important part of my story)

november night, but i did not feel it inbetween the alcohol and my heavy coat.
i was at that bar, that i frequently go to, where the music is good and the beer cheap.
i went on my own, as i often do, just to see who would be there.
i was tipsy from the red wine i had been drinking and i mainly have vague memories, but all of a sudden we stood there, our lips against each others, him and i.
it was a nice moment and he had the softest, curliest hair.

he did not live here anymore, he had left for a bigger city and he only came home once a month or less.

he is probably the most charming boy i have ever met and i have to admit i fell hard for him, well, as hard as it is possible to fall for a crush that is supposed to stay nothing but a crush.
we spent some drunken nights together, going back to his friends place, my place and even a hotel when we had nowhere else to go.
he was kind of crazy as well, and during the time i saw him the most, i ended up going home or falling asleep at five in the morning, eventhough i started to work at eight.

before he went back to his city, we kissed goodbye at the most uncharming place in this city, but for that moment, it was perfect. i did not know when i would meet him the next time and i did not want to cry over a boy in another country, so instead of missing him, i went out drinking and dancing a lot in bars and clubs.

i chainsmoked every time for two months when i thought about him and how nice we could have had it.

my life is a lovestory part 4

i was sitting in my friends apartment one red wine night. we spoke about hair for some reason and my friend told me that she had a number to a great hairdresser who did cuts at home.
i realised that he was the guy who had cut my hair the first time i did a drastic change in my new city. i called him up and asked if he would be interested in cutting my hair. so he did. he even coloured it, and we went out dancing after, while his friend slept in the toilet.
we went for a cigarette and he told me i was cute, and that he wanted to tell me more, but that he was too shy to tell me. i asked what it was, and he kissed me.

i spent all my time at his place, since i was unemployed and did not really like my own place. one day, he gave me my own key and i started moving in, little by little. he made me become crazy, he forced me to try my limits.
i got a job, and while my friends, sort of my family, left the city, he introduced me to new friends and we started building a life together, in the 18 squaremeter apartment that we had.
i have never had fights like we had before, fights that start one day and end three days later.
he was romantic in a strange way though, bought me sushi when i was down, bought tickets to concerts as surprise and treated me like a princesse, whenever we did not fight.

we went on a two week vacation together, we travelled europe around, and when we got home, we both realised that our place was way to small for two people and all their clothes and shoes. and for some reason, we tended to find amazing items on the street, that we most certainly would need somehow. so, we grew out of our apartment and i decided that we had to find a bigger place. so we did, we got our proper home in the end of the summer.

when i got back in to my bad habits, a month or so after we moved in, i realised that he brought me down. that my bad habits came back because of him and that i started drinking more because of him and that he never spent time with me.

so five months after we installed our lives in the new apartment, we handed back the keys.

my ife is a lovestory part 3

two months, on the day, after coming back to my hometown, i packed my bags and left again. this time for, what i said was, for good.
when i had been there for not even a week, i went in to a clothing store where i knew that someone with intense brown eyes had been working.
he was still working there and we spoke for the first time.
he took my number and sent me a text a couple of days later.
i fell for him, fast. he seemed to like me as well, but he liked his work more.
i bet i was too easy to get as well.
during six months, we spent about four nights togheter, always on his initiative. i would change my plans to be with him and he barely ever answered my calls.
the fact that he was so hard to get made me want him even more.
then, one day he told me that he had a son, and he continued by saying that he was not a good guy, no good boyfriend material.
so i decided to forget about him, cried my heart out for a couple of weeks.
the last time i kissed him, was the last time he left my apartment.

and now, two and a half years later, i have actually forgotten his phone number.

my life is a lovestory part 2

we went to the same school, i got to know him through friends. i was in my first year and he in his last.
he knew that i had a boyfriend by then, but he sent me text messages every now and then, and with the time, more frequently. my heart always pumped a little bit more intense when those texts reached me.
we spent some time together, and i ended up breaking up with my boyfriend. one night, i went to his place to just hang out and he got nervous when he had something to tell me. i was nervous as well and told him that he was the reason for why i had left the other boy. we kissed and started spending time as two.

it was, by then, the happiest time of my life and i was in love.

then, all of a sudden, one day, about five months after we started dating, the feeling in my stomach told me something was wrong.
the day after, he came to mine, looking sad and he only kissed me on my cheek. i did not manage to sleep that night and we barely spoke. the morning after, he told me that he was drifting out of love. i had never been that sad before. i cried for three months, non-stop.
the fall came and we became friends again, eventhough it was hard for me. and one september day, he kissed me, just like he had kissed me before, on the lips.

we were together for three and a half years in total, with some slight break-ups that i annonced because i was scared. we went travelling several times together and i went through depressions and forced him to spend a new years eve at home, comforting me when i was crying.
i got sick during our relationship, badly sick, and i ran away to another country. i was a bitch and for four months we only saw each other once. the day i moved back from the big city that had changed me completely, i was supposed to move in with him. instead i broke up with him, told him that i did not belong in that small town, that i missed the freshly baked bread, the cheap wine and everything else that paris is.

it took months before he spoke to me again, and now he is one of my best friends.

my life is a lovestory part 1

i met him through friends when i was 16. he lived in another city, 3 hours by train from me.
he was the first boy i ever kissed and shared a bed with.
it was the kind of teenage love that you read about in books.

we saw each other every other weekend, and for a while that felt okay.
i had no clue about what you are supposed to do when in a relationship so we mainly spent our time kissing in public and holding hands, to sort of make sure that everyone knew that we both had someone we belonged to.

i was a jealous girl by then, and when he started a new school and made lots of new friends, especially girls, i almost cried because i was sure that he would leave me to be with one of them.
i thought i knew what true love was and that him and i were going to stay us forever.
even i was suprised when, in the end, 6 months after we met, I broke up with HIM.

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will the day ever come, when i stop running into your friends everywhere i go?

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walking drunk on the street we used to share, feels even more painful than normal

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you told me you'd get everything i pointed at
and the moment i pointed at you, you were gone.

you were a problem, like all the other ones that i've ever involved in my life.
you were a problem to forget another problem, and now i have to forget you.

for two months and five days, i've been thinking of youyouyou and how to make you realise. you gave me the biggest bitchslap ever, and the time to recover from the burning feeling after, has brought me down.

for two months, i've spent every awake moment of my life waiting for the phone to annonce your name on the display.
for two months, i've tried to erase you from my life, without succeeding, because i can't erase my memories, nor your phone number.

but at the end of the day, i know that i don't want you, i want us.

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and now he's back.

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will i ever feel normal again?

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secret desires.
i'm built from them

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when i see a chinese family taking a holiday photo in front of cirque d'hiver, i don't know if i should laugh or cry