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My underrated petiole 1989-Adjusted 2013 With French original text as Ma fane sous-estimée.


my underrated petiole ©copyright2013owpp

my underrated petiole
©copyright2013owpp

My underrated petiole
———————–

Dear companion
Faithful and silent
Thirsty and available
I come to you

At most painful
Times, less credible.
Offering my pain
My joy, the apex

Of my acception.
You listen with
Dead calm
Free from ridicule

Never mocking
Those moments
To traverse.
Deride my fantasies

Bursts, eruptions
Torrent of words
Spurting in dander
Joy or beatitude

You are here
And drink.
Take me as I am
Without judging

Or ulterior motives
Attentive to every call
Day or night
Never fail.

Impartial, always
At my side in
A thousand ways.
My faithful sheet.

Companion of my
Atlantis, serene
At all trials
Or abuse of this…

Underrated page.
______________

Ma fane sous-estimée
————————

Chère compagne
Fidèle et silencieuse
Assoiffée et disponible
Je viens à toi

Aux moments les plus
Pénibles, moins crédible.
Offrant mes peines,
Mes joies, l’apogée

De mon acception.
Tu écoutes avec
Un calme plat.
Libre du ridicule

Sans jamais moquer
Ces moments
A traverser,
Railler mes fantaisies

Mes éclats, irruptions
Torrents de mots
Jaillissant, tout en fureur
Joie folle ou béatitude

Tu es là, tu bois
Me prends
Comme je suis
Sans juger

Ou arrières pensées
Attentive à tout appelles
Jour ou nuit
Tu n’as jamais fui.

Impartial, toujours
A mes côtés
Par milles façon.
Ma feuille fidèle

Compagne de mon
Atlantis, sereine
A toute épreuves
Ou abus, de cette…

Page si méconnu.

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The past of a very dark day. Sep. 2012 ( Oa essay )


©copyright2013owpp

©copyright2013owpp

This is a article I should remember to read when my abstinence quivers or doubts.
Am I glad we don’t have many moments like these in our lives!
There is truly, nothing that tastes better than abstinence.

Dark moment
——————

People usually die once. I have died a few deaths and keep on doing so.
Occasionally, I come back to the living, but end it off, of my own accord.

Some have others torturing them. A partner, husband, friend, colleague… I am privileged. I have my own torturer. ME.
I destroy myself. I am my worst enemy. I attack myself, by stuffing my body with food I don’t even desire or savor. Always in search of some taste bud-thrill, that will entertain my pallet a while longer.
It is a food-rage. It kills my soul, bit by bit. I have gone a thousand times to hell and back. Now, nothing seems to bring me home. I am spiraling downwards and speed my fall by letting go of all the ropes. No relief in sight.
Pain is the only feeling that visits my solitude.
This “ now “ is not the companion I was looking for. I try to shake it off but it sticks to my ego, my famous ego. You know, the one that takes so much space, there is no room for beauty. Just trouble.
I have been told to let go of it and have tried but do not know how.
My journey could have been uneventful had I known the secret but, my ego has a long life or maybe seven lives, like the cats, is it not what they say?
So, I resign myself to my cycle of suffering and despair yet in the hope of getting another glance at a paradise I have lived and left in a nearly forgotten past…

The one that people call with a moan and a sigh… LIFE.