Angie-M

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The actress

Written 2005-06-22


Today I said to him that there were three things I couldn't do; acting, singing and drawing.

But every day i wake up fooling myself, today and yesterday i had to fool him too. The perfect actress, taking others's hands withouth a shiver and believes that what she sais is true. No no, the truth in plays are just relativly short. After the show when the lights are put on everything becomes real again.

My heart sings every day, sings for its life. Beats harder, making me feel weak, making me believe I'm not in love, making me hate myself, making all that noice that keeps me up at night.

And i draw, I can actually draw. A little, not like Da Vinci... but I'm drawing my life in honey and milk.

So many lies came out of my mouth. But it could still be the truth for the moment in my play. I'll just have to wait for the lights to sting out my dark eyes. And the honest to judge.

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No mercy for the poet

Written 2005-06-05

if the poetry is dead,
it is because it has been killed
and not because the poets are dead



"She will complete the puzzle,
with the last four pieces,
with her own circle of life on them"


By far the worst is the teenpoet, cos what do you want her to do? Go and tell the world how great her words are, or even try to get her friends to read them? No, she'll hide her poet. She hides it very deep in, dedans, inside, and so a piece of her will die and the perfection of a very rare mind shall fall apart.
And thus she lives the days that pass, whithout a livingsoul who loves the very whole of her. And she cries, she cries for love. The very songbird, locked, désespéré, that lost its voice... she'll sing inside in sadness...

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