“You get to a certain age or a certain point and everything you say either sounds like a confession or feels like a breakdown—I’m ambivalent about the first; kinda un-fucking-comfortable about the second—I am overdue and the last one was a mess—like an it’s Chinatown, kind of mess.”

Sometimes though, all that—it’s bollocks. Sometimes, it’s really good.

Having style means knowing when you’re going to far

Philippe Djian’s “Betty Blue” Translated by Howard Buten

Dreams—Recurring

Subject: the kind of thing which inhabits daydreams, kernels of truth, an image shared—they are snapshots—a fragment—but fully realised, whole. A story in and of itself. I’ve seen it a hundred times.

We are talking—chatting—laughing over a breakfast bar—you’ve thrown something at me—gesturing wildly about something—I have the sound turned down—I’m too busy watching you—I can feel myself smiling—trying not to laugh—I think I’ve set you off deliberately—and you know it’s deliberate but play along because you know I love watching you when you’re like this—oh no—I’ve just asked a really stupid question—you’re staring at me—you don’t look too impressed—shall I start from the beginning, you say—I can read your lips—I’m trying not to laugh—you’re so much better at this then me—you look pissed—nope, you can’t hold it—you just called me an asshole and kissed me—you’ve got to get ready—you’ll be defending your PhD soon and have a crazy schedule—I can’t wait to call you, doctor.

—JustD

*I cannot find the credit for the image—I am always uncomfortable posting without the proper credits, but I needed this one. If anyone can confirm the author of the picture, I’d appreciate it.