moi-cest-oli - Tumblr blog

[moi-cest-oli]

Chaque instant plus proche et plus loin d’une infinie rêvée liberté qui meurt

Seule dans une ruelle s’étouffant dans la bave de ses orgueils ravalés

[moi-cest-oli]

Don’t you fucking care?

Don’t you, cisgender, straight rich white man, FUCKING CARE ABOUT WOMEN? I know I’m not in any position to have an opinion since I don’t own a uterus, hence that’s not why I’m writing here. I’m just so pissed off that those disgusting old men are the ones voting laws that only concern women. It’s once again a selfish, narrow sighted opinion that’ll take over, all of it because the people concerned are not in position to be heard, while these fuckers are rich and famous.

Anyway, I felt a bit of rage.  Good luck, dear uterus owners.

[moi-cest-oli]

Opinions on abortions are like nipples

Everyone has them but women’s ones are a bit more relevant

Although we only ever see men’s ones

[moi-cest-oli]

Checking if there’s batteries in my controller with the energy of james bond looking in his gun to see if there’s bullets

[moi-cest-oli]

The Headphones mean i am balling up in my own little daydream cause i’m on the edge and if you derange it i might collapse.

[moi-cest-oli]

Ugh. So many rats in this damn world and yet none are eating me alive right now smh

[moi-cest-oli]

Many artists are just people who didn’t have a childhood, so they spend their lives trying to be a kid.

[moi-cest-oli]

Time to eat rocks!

[moi-cest-oli]

Sans mots. // no caption.

[moi-cest-oli]

Tonight I’m writing to the city.

To the city I live in.

Montreal, my dear friend, here you are.

Here she is in the night

Her deep breath of humanity when the sun goes down

The neon veins of her beating heart

The oppression of her walls

The solitude of her immensity

The overwhelming crowd

The infinite freedom

The paradox.

Her guts taking people places

Her parasites glorious in their towers

Her children hiding from the sun

Us, people, trying our best

Living between her arms

Living in her cage

Living

Or not

In this frenetic world of ours

Trying to survive

Trying to escape

Without even wanting to

Chasing broken dreams

With broken limbs

Numb in this mechanical world

Frozen to the core and still

Trying to fight the stillness

Trying to revive from our ashes

With the wind blowing them away

And i’m sitting here

In my room

Trying to honour this city

To who i’m just a parasite

But once again

Montreal, my dear friend, here you are.

[moi-cest-oli]

[moi-cest-oli]

Je vois.

[moi-cest-oli]

La semaine passée, au skatepark Van-Horne.

[moi-cest-oli]

Bon je sais que vous êtes pas beaucoup à m’écouter ici, mais il fallait que je vous dise, pour la première fois depuis longtemps, je suis un peu fier de moi. Ça fait aujourd’hui une semaine que j’ai pas touché à de la nicotine, j’ai pas bu de café depuis presque deux semaines. Et jusqu’ici j’ai des pas pires notes dans mes études en art qui me passionnent pis j’ai plein de nouveaux amis.

Love y’all! <3

[moi-cest-oli]

Ça fait un moment qu’il prend la poussière alors je le dépose ici, en espérant faire rêver quelqu’un.

She wasn't the kind of girl you wanted in your bed. She was one of those you want deep inside your soul, deep down in your heart. But you see, she wasn't ready for that. She was young and free and volatile. A feather blowing in the wind. A star ready to explode. A supernova dancing inside her own mind. a tiny creature afraid of people and comforted by the dark. A lonely one dancing in the soft dusk light. Dreaming under the stars. Prisonner of this life. Trapped in a city too big for her body. A city too small for her dreams. A city full of people who'll never know. A city full of dreamers, hiding behind these masks. Invisible in this immense fog machine.

She couldn't get out, so she dived in. Knowing the pressure of the ocean down there. The deafening silence of those towers. The sound of these lost souls. The dying light in their eyes. The lost hope flowing out of their hearts. The hope for a better world that neither of us will ever hear about. The music coming out of the underground begging to get out.

All of these dead poets and lost dancers, crying in the night.

Praying for this city to let them go.

[moi-cest-oli]

2021-09-26

Bon, me revoilà, perdu dans une nouvelle ville, à combattre mes addictions sans personne à mes côtés. Me surmener en espérant noyer mes démons. Tous les fantômes des gens que j’aimais qui me hantent et m’empêchent d’avancer. Tout le mal que je leur ai fait. Me faire des nouveaux amis et me rendre compte que repartir à zéro ça a ses difficultés. Ça te permet de te débarrasser du mauvais mais aussi du bon. tu t’éloignes de tes mauvaises habitudes mais tu perds toute la complicité qui a pris des années à s’installer. Il vente fort dans ma vie, et j’ai du mal à garder les pieds sur terre sans les embourber dans la nicotine.

[moi-cest-oli]