For this country, I feel a wild attraction, a magnetic, animal instinct.Nothing as refined as what you would expect for a country like this.Actually, I
For this country, I feel a wild attraction, a magnetic, animal instinct.Nothing as refined as what you would expect for a country like this.Actually, I
And now that it has become impossible for you to chase me away from homeThere is not a single place where I cannot feel at
I would have loved us to walk there,Both of us. But the edge guiding your words and carrying the sound of your voiceJams everything.It disconnects
Once again, you thunder.The mental squall blowing me away from the present, again. Emotional hostage-taking attempt. Mind-jacking.You won’t get me. The rumble of your words
You can never force your mind to stop talking,But you are never obliged to listen. ©FJ August 2021Articles are available as books and e-books :
There is a form of violence that I apply to myself.It occurs at night, when I struggle with what appears as a wake-up phase I
Today is February, the First, of 2019I am 39 years old.In a few minutes, we’ll celebrateThe seventh birthday of my younger son. At the back
The virus is spreading and everyone wants it to end.It tries to survive, to outlive everyone.It struggles, mutates and end up putting out, once it
As a child, he had to be protected against her incomprehensible assaults.She raised waves of chaos and yelled sounds of havoc, under the crashing sky,
If I do not choose to have faith in the human being, life is only an acid apprehension.It is unlivable. By rotating the angle I
When I’m overwhelmed and suffocatingYour words … Claiming inanity, this is what I always do.For there’s not enough space within meTo let your words unfold
A few nights followedNow, in front of your feet,the chasm begins to open. A few faults, a scree, and here, it presents itself to you.
There is nothing silence will not eventually overcome.There is no phenomenon language cannot lock up and wither. FJ July 2021 – All Rights ReservedArticles are
The border does not mean anything to the cloud.It feels no contemptAnd no pity It simply moves over the border without noticing it.Concepts are borders
From the obscurity of our nights, what we callDespair, absence of meaning,Is the most beautiful quest.It pulses along with the forgotten heartbeat of our childhood.