A blue shirt collar that conceals a hairy chest. The complex of hairy shoulders. Love handles that remain hidden behind a not entirely unbuttoned shirt.





For two hours, his smell has perfumed my beard. I lay my hands on my face, I wrap up my mouth, my beard, my nose. Breathing. He’s back.




My iPhone’s predictive text keyboard does not correct the word “its” into “it’s” any longer. It’s driving me crazy.




My four little carpets between my desk and my sofa can’t stop moving, shifting, letting the floor appears. Yet they are recovered by a non-slip layer. It’s driving me crazy. I can’t stop thinking about that.





When I met an occasional lover, the best part is always the one I go back home and sing under the shower with a melodramatic and disillusioned air.




I take Amandine back home. We haven’t finished our conversation. On the car park, my car’s motor is still running. I do not dare turning it off, because I’m afraid she gets back to the concept of time, and then, she leaves me.





“I checked my phone: I have no message. This is what mobile phones are about, they show you nobody thinks of you. Before you still could imagine that somebody was trying to contact you, talk to you, love you. Now we live with that object, materializing our loneliness.” After David Foenkinos





Andrea said: “I’m a wild person and I know that wild people end their lives alone.”





Madonna’s new album leaked on the internet a few days only before its official release in France. I can’t resist, I download it. I don’t know if I should listen to it, or not. I sync it on my phone, while I have decided to resist. I hang around in town with Madonna’s new album in my pocket. It feels like I’m walking with a cyanide pill to bit into in state of emergency.






We sleep side by side. We tangle our bodies. Foot, legs, hands, arms. After a moment, I lose my sensibility, my muscles get numbed. The parts of my body next to his fall asleep. I’m not aware anymore of my posture neither his. This contact points are like soldered joints, then we just make one.





His landlord wrote a letter to him and his flatmates, in order to remind them some rules. At the end of the letter, she writes this sentence that nobody understands, except him and me. “Close your shutters when you don’t sleep.”






Since I set curtains at my windows, I look much less outdoor. I’m losing all notions of outside, as if I was living in a movie set located in a hangar.




Light takes time to travel through space. When we’re looking at the starry sky, light reaches us after many billion years. Observing the stars is literally seeing the past. In the direction of eternity and infinity, the last image of my grandmother is moving away from Earth.





I’m sometimes afraid to listen too often songs on that I associate to a memory. The same way a clothing item holds a particular smell, handling it too much, the smell may vanish.





Side by side, in the little sofa, the distance between us is limited by an unshared plaid.





“Just because the Almighty gave people a taste for lobsters doesn’t mean that he gave lobsters a taste for being boiled alive.”
Murder She Wrote, Season 1, Episode 4: Hooray for homicide





Jean says they always choose Paul Klee to illustrate “clever books”. Did Florent want to look “clever” by choosing Paul Klee for his Grindr profile picture the first time he talked to me?





My forced registration to the employment agency reminds me I have to justify my projects to come. Upon consideration, not being able to project myself even a month in the future, I realize I own in my fridge a crème fraîche pot that has a brighter future than me.





One films someone in front of a giant screen which broadcast live what is filmed. Each pixel appears bigger and discernable one from another. I wonder if there is a filmed pixel partly represented by itself.





For my move, I bought a six-plate-set. I’m alone almost every day. So, in order not to wear out one and only one plate I wash after a meal, I proceed to a plate shift to spread erosion on each plate.





The slamming of a MacBook closed with violence. Sometimes as the end clap of an argument, sometimes as the beginning of a love scene.




I already prepare my defense in the case one of my neighbors reproaches me for singing too loud, and especially, out of tune. I would answer we don’t prevent bad screws from fucking, so I can’t understand why we would prevent bad singers from singing. Following the example that fucking is not kept for porn stars and whore, singing is not kept for pop stars.





I alternate between domesticating phases and phases of return to wildlife.My way to move on is not by pushing the accelerator but by easing up the brake pedal.



My way to move on is not by pushing the accelerator but by easing up the brake pedal.





I just found a video, on Instagram. Two guys I like, who know each other are partying together. I didn’t know they know each other. One and the other ignores me successively at different times, in different ways. I feel like they are celebrating the sadness they cause in me.






Is it still being an alternative person that being covered up with tattoos in 2016?




I want to watch a movie tonight. But a movie shorter than two hours. I like one in my movie library, but it lasts two hours and thirteen minutes. I keep searching. I find another one lasting one hour and fifty-two minutes. But it took me thirty-five minutes to make my choice and to play it. Losing thirty-five minutes to win twenty-one.





I have a human warmth deficiency. I left my electric kettle on, it displays thirty-seven degree Celsius (98.6 °F).