1. ENDLESS EMPTINESS

At the core of my being; a void.
At the heart of this ocean of disillusion, you are suffering.
Empty, used up.
This gaping hole I can’t fix.
I am suffering
I can’t blame it on the absence of spiritualism;
it contradicts the schematic of my beliefs.
This will to meaning is the motive, is at the center.
And this need to be occupied, absorbed nearly all the time with something
that can make you feel awe, pleased, relieved, proud, loved, hated.
This yearning to fill every moment.
What are we trying to satisfy?
To ease our loneliness ?
I guess It can explain;
Why you are dedicated to a single, consuming purpose;
Why you seek Him;
Why we’re trying to fit as much into our lives;
Why you are trying to be more productive.
There will always be more tasks than you will ever have time to do.
Why you fill the silence with those empty noises.
Why you drink so much.
The void.
But the emptiness has wore you away.
Why you can’t stand alone.
This will to meaning is the motive, is at the center.
You are suffering.
Empty, used up.
This gaping hole I can’t fix.
I am suffering
At the core of my being; a void


2. DISABUSED

You mouthed it all, atrociously too perfect.
Posed, calm, with this dreadful civility.
This grin!
Reminiscence of a polite drink, a juice cocktail without liquor.
A friendly flavour that pleases all, repels no one.
You are a soft crowd pleasure.
Like a lonely desperate being that brings a basket full of treats.
It will be eaten but you will not gain any friends.
Your seduction campaign is too bold, way too bold.
A dusty old institution with a revamped facade.
A staged glamorous look to appeal my generation.
I have no interest.
I really don’t care.
What are you proud for?
What have you done, to gain our nationwide admiration ?
It was all given to you.
You are just perfect hollow news.
Smoke and mirrors.
A fairy tale accessible for the masses.
A spending spree and a waste of time.


3. L'IMPASSE

Un tunnel, une lumière au lointain.
La distance qui nous sépare; interminable.
Le pourquoi de mon chemin, de mes choix.
Le pressant désir d’atteindre cette douce, cette sensation de plénitude me dévore.
Le pourquoi de mon chemin, de mes choix.
J’ai choisit un travail gratifiant.
Le réveil n’est plus pénible maintenant.
Je me suis procuré un toit, un chez-moi, modeste, mais nettement suffisant.
J’ai tout ce dont j’ai besoin.
Je pourrais en rajouter, je n’en vois pas l’utilité.
Je ne ferais que m’encombrer d’objets.
Je passerais mon temps à les bouger.
Tout y est, j’ai tout fait.
Je reste toutefois insatisfaite.
En panne de sens je dois m’arrêter.
Au sol, à mes pieds, rien, de la terre.
Sa séduisante simplicité.
Et si ma quête n’est qu’un simple instinct qui me permet d’avancer.
Un tunnel, une faible lumière au lointain.