New Moon Walks

Night walk, pitch-black tree shapes, subtle scent of flowers and cypress, hordes of snails and slugs, van Gogh's clouds burning like dark blue flames. The moon is hiding.

This is quite a night for me. I am struck with countless memories of me attempting to draw attention to myself. Even as i was a kid i invented diseases of small pain and dislike for chocolate (which obviously no other kid would claim). I enjoyed underground music which no other in my town would know of, i dressed differently, i left my home in France at 18 to live in the UK, i learned languages (as many as possible), i made electronic music and at age 19 i already had published 2 records. The music wasn't very good, i had no real talent, but i wanted to be one of those artists people would know of. I wanted to be the source of this love i felt when i heard music and danced on it. I drew, i wanted to be the author of drawings such as those which inspired awe. I read, and i wanted to write books like those which brought me in wonderful imaginary places. I tried to write but failed. I learned more languages, moved to more countries.

One day i thought i knew what life was about, how it worked and i wanted to become a teacher, i wanted to be a guru and guide others, i wanted to be someone like the Buddha or Jesus, someone people would still remember after millennia.

I had plans and ideas, i did not want to be ordinary, people had to know how special i am, they had to love me in a special way. I studied, hard and a lot, i learned more languages, even those languages only few learn, like Sanskrit. I made translations, i want to publish them, i want people to know i can do that, which they can't.

These were and are my drives. These are the reasons why i feel unhappy, unsatisfied, incomplete. This night i know that i have never loved myself and looked instead for that love in other's attention. This night i know i am so little and insignificant. This night i am scared to continue and i am scared to let go, i am scared to be ordinary. I am scared to be nothing, i am scared to mean nothing. What then is left for my heart to beat on? Somewhere the idea unfolds that perhaps Life has something to tell and a surprise to share.