Is it Sunday? It's Sunday!
To smear the emerging day as we speak in the cantonade,
savor a generous breakfast, it's a party day, let's not forget or rather remember.
Prepare for a big day, the big day!
Listen to a grumpy taxi complaining about the world as it does not go,
distracting this conversation, like any discussion,
climbing the steps, entering the building and being absorbed by him.
Breathe, come back to life like a plant that has been lacking in water and light too long ... to take root.
Pray. Pray ! Notify and be notified! Listening to love! Listening to Aimé!
To please yourself with yourself, with yourself absent from yourself,
to feel back home, in unknown land forever.
Feel completely, entirely, intensely loved ...
Ask yourself what deserves that ... getting down.
Get along the end of eternity. Deo Gratias!
Deplore the end of this adventure which contains all the adventures.
Find the world after having forgotten it, stammering and chaotic.
Find the crowds, the sounds, the clutter of the world ... all that is not him.
Sanctify lunch as if he was going to sit there, with us.
Savor a soft nap where the dream takes reason in an unknown, and paradise region.
Wake up, mumbled, in a disparate mood, get up painfully.
Rabibocher the sons of oneself, and others. Always sew his life. Especially the one to come.
Snail, Guingois, try to stand in prayer.
Dreaming to seize the unimaginable, the meaning that gives meaning to the void.
Find a thousand pretexts to run away, listen to them all by one by paying them special attention.
Believe that the truth could be exercised differently.
Try to find the essence of what filled the morning hours.
Being Sunday afternoon…
is it still Sunday?
Where did the magic fled?
Building unnecessary thoughts hoping that time is going faster.
Going to call in the distance: "Where are you?" "
Fear, shudder, tremble, cry, start from the terrible echo ...
Remember ... no longer fear. Never have any fear anymore.
Dreaming of being on Sunday morning ...
Hallows yourself to the appointment and declare it by whispering: "I'm here!" »
Dreaming about being Sunday morning… to reconnect with the wonderful.