C`est difficile d`y croire, 10 ans joyeux anniversaire depuis que tu as tourne ton dos a la vie, je contemple ta photo !
Que reste t`il de nos amours ?

Un amour ravagé par la vie, je suffoque…
Mardi, j aurais 36 ans, l`âge final !

Et voilas, je suis prêt, je pense venir te visiter bientôt, le 4/5 aout 06…

Enfin des vacances bien desservez !

Ils disent que mon cœur, ralentiras dans mon sommeil et le néant.
J aurais put leur dire !

Je suis épuiser, mais je ne peux pas dormir, un monde a l`envers !

Je veux être le miroir de votre laideur, la réflexion que vous fuyez !
L âme difforme qui répugne !
Je m en fous, fleur de poubelle, belle.

Des choses comme cela prennent du temps, j`ais toujours crut que nous serions ensembles, et je me demande quand la pluie viendras…

Peut être ce soir, peut être demain, déçois nous perdons le contrôle de tout, voulez vous la pluie ?
Celle qui me berçait dans mon sommeil enfant, avant que les poupées viennent remplacer tout !

Je vais prendre le téléphone, mon meilleur ami, celui qui a encore une voie…

Je ne suis plus le même, j ais besoin d une autre poupée !

Je m en fout de tout, si seulement je pouvais trouver le courage de tout oublier, leur visages, leur états d âmes…
Pas grave, j ais laissé mon empreinte dans le ciment du trottoir du vulgaire prostituer que je fus !
La vie est une chose qui ne veut rien dire, une illusion éphémère….

J ais mal au ventre, bon signe, je vais continuer…

Je m`en balance de tout, je suis victime de me propre désillusion/ mirages.

Des mots sans qu`eux n`y tètent, des paroles qui me flinguent les intestins…
Peut être, peut être que non, ce n est qu’une question de temps…
Ou l`espoir d`en finir !

Suite a suivre si réveil au matin….

“29 APRIL 2006” Saturday night fever, come crawling like some old maggots upon my rotten body, to whisper sickly lullabies... Old stories, same voice, sound like silence, getting ready to swallow more dolls...screaming; - I will comfort you... Maybe I shall watch the misfits, maybe I shall go out under the spell of the spring? Does it really matter/. Counting old junks, pilling in the attic of my deranged mind. dust in my eyes, I can not see far, I can live fast enough, I can not love enough or destroy what left of me, fast is the lane, I drive tonight! A man, call me to fills me with fantasy, this is what I have been! A star in their eyes, a cheap shinny butterfly in disguise, for a price! And what is left of it all... Some old wine and an empty bottle of sleeping pills, valium speaks louder then her absent voice! Actually maybe i shall speak about you, instead of dreaming of you? Your name was Christelle; we were arrogant with youths, as Dear Oscar Wilde says once; -youths is wasted on the young’s! How true, if only we knew better then, maybe you could be at the other end of the phone tonight instead of being 6 foots under, by the age of 22 years old, my sweet princess. Sleep forever; waiting for me, I like to think. We nearly departed together, but god cruelty chooses to hold on to me, and let you go instead of me. How could I forget the long distance call!!! Christelle is dead...........................long silence. A cloud of mysteries, I wonder, but I knew already the verities! They say, they found your body on a beach, in the Ivory Coast, staring at the sky, almost sleeping, almost... Angel without wings who felt from grace too and I promises to your Sybil to survive for the two of us, despise wanting to leave it all, behind, and meet you with a welcome kiss in a bed made of dead flowers. I do not care much, about spellings and souvenirs... I guess u shall always smile and I shall remind myself of our first kiss in Paris. We were 17. They told me, this week if I don’t stop the downers to chemical sleep, I shall soon, never wake up, my heart is tired despise my anger and youth? I did not really care if I sleep me shall be happy... reminder when we used to wake up with needles in our arms in some wards, souvenir of the famous hospital, they says, we must be break apart for our own sake. Or We shall die... So I pretend and remind myself how we used to talk about life/death as our oxygen! So young, too young to died, 22 is the name of your final game, your throw the dices once last time... I wish I was there to pick them up. But like me tonight they was no-ones to play with...so without a goodbye, you left all behind! I am so tempted, maybe because this week end it is my birthday and you pass away 3 day later, what a great present Christelle. Sometimes, I like to think, you did it in purpose to let me knows and never forget the years, maybe indeed for such misfits like us, this was the perfect gift! So happy birthday Herve and remember me with a smile. She was a simple lovely girl I felt in love with, CHRISTELLE... it is hard to think while I will celebrate alone my BR`s day, it will be 10 years you left me! Never forget, you still shine in my heart.... COPYRIGHT@2006.H.N.MARGOT.

I take a blue pearls in the palm of my hands, from the psychotropic land where so many likewise, I have been buried. I still think very much of the pink ones calling in the background, seating in desperation for my will to breaks… But most of all, I miss my delighted queen, the rainbow of my secret nights, the cold embrace has she let her blood running through my veins, to explode my brain! like fireworks to heaven! As for the others, they are rather quiet indeed, left over of an ageing queen. Stains left all over the book of decaying memories, while I hold on to the green jewels! And my rainbow has turn from psychedelic colours to some old ragged grey suit, I am wearing. They says, the sun will come again and it was never my true stars, smiling through the day, in the palms of hand, but simply ashes of butterflies I truly believe, bought the best of me. So why am I emotionally so hollow? Surely the blind man would be happy to witness the sunrise , one more time? Despise the mind of the child as forgot, the ray of light from his youth. The man has learnt to dance in the arms of hypothermia! While his heartbeats slowly loose the tempos of it all, too intoxicate by the magic jewels of 20 years already… There is no escape… The cage is empty, The bird has long stop singing, The soul was tricks by old lullabies! Fantasies, Ether who has blurred the inner true. I can see the blue wings of Satan flapping near by, let me grabs one more time this angel who has travel from the land of psychotropic country. A secret garden fills with cadavers where the yellow rose prevails upon their immortal resting places, like old manuscripts, immortal as their leaves keep travelling to poison more innocent minds by idiotic thesis!
COPYRIGHT@2006.H.N.MARGOT.

« 29 APRIL 2006 » `Shine and bring life to my mortal heart. With delight, I was seating on the edge of this cliff, pondering over such small details as if, I shall be jumping… But it all seems kind of easy and painful at the same time? Like The flower lady remind me of the passing pigeon, struck by luck during spring days, forgotten by November… And the sun was shinning and I smile remember you. I feel like dancing upon this gravestone, let the future be simply, that, beautiful and short. Desperation is a funny sentiment, not so much because it is a very useless emotion to carry. But more to the point, because such malignant disease does not belong to the medical dictionary, but more to the “grimoire” of the depress mind. Indeed, it seems if we start to peel the layers of crusty souvenirs, under the dusty rock, unmoving reside the rough gems of our childhood’s… Children’s essences of life, dried poppy seeds burry to an early graves and from the corner of my eyes as saw you stare at your hands; so much dust under your fingers nails! I turn around and with an angelic smile you whisper to me; “Drop the shovel and come holding my hand” you asked me tenderly, once upon a time… Joy is the traitor, the judge who inflicts the sentence. Happiness the worse deceiver of all and her lover deception walk hands by hands to our own ultimate resting place. The wind shall never cease to blow his kisses, the river running trough the veins of passing time and shooting starts falling from grace. So come and hold my hand so you can shine again, maybe not? COPYRIGHT@2006.H.N.MARGOT.

« 27/ 28 APRIL 2006 » Change is good. I actually believe this, while no ones denied the harshness of it during the process such as the first-born. The all process is rather frightened! I can only compare it to a young mother, who lost her virginity by accident and has not alternative but going through the mental anguish and physique change of her body and soul… The retractile feeling to start with, the unwelcome present of the gods, the almost immaculate conception if she had not be too drunk for remembering the all episode (and that if she had being lucky that the all episode was actually memorable as most of the time, both party are too sedate by the liquor to perform a act of pure love). However, after a long debate, making her mind up to keep the unborn foetus. = While there was no guaranty like my present life of the time, no holiday pay, be part of a killing machine with a company and all the usual capitalist artefacts, shinny to the eyes nevertheless killer of the soul! So one act upon his instincts and goes for his dreams. So many songs, so many movies, and so many peoples rambling about it… “When I will do this, watch me, one day…” However, that day never comes. Therefore, to the astonishment of your entire community of friend you take the plunge and give it up all. Secure job etc… Suddenly you are for the first few months/ years the hero or anti-hero, the one who did it! Not soon, all his forgotten, any-one like to be remembering of his own failure. As you had become the reflection of their own broken dreams. So as you climb the Mount Everest, the higher you go the lonely you get. The long process of change has begun; you start to see your mental attitude changing. You worry about new things, new horizon open, while the excitement of it all, as prelude it to start with like most show or new toy, soon, the fear of what one has left behind become stronger and anxiety set in, like a old wolf watching his young prey! As by then, you have realise, if not told, that this new land like most new celestial place, is fills with love and dangers. The jungle become thicker by the day despise after a while learning your way round, there is so much more from this virgin Amazon place you still have to explore, so you are left with the choice to either take the first boat home or keep going… The fierce keep battling the weak and sensitive falls from grace… The dream has by now, become a slimy forest, a tick place of various colours fills with new creatures, and new smells (some rather exotic and exiting and some not so…) endless sunrise or deadly sunset? As the end of the first chapter approach and you soon, shall be release of the sturdy field to the world again, you have almost become institutionalize by knowledge, pressure of dead lines and endless discoveries who soon, feel like it will be all a haze, almost a dreams state where you soon, shall wake up! Moreover, indeed one morning unlike any other day, you find yourself stepping from the greenhouse of Olympus. An infant appearing to the world still soaking by the blood of the pain of his birth, new horizon, or hell. You push you first scream of joy that sadly often turn soon, enough to pain! Yes, the cage has been open but it seems the world had changed quite a bit since you last been an active member of it. All this new told buildings; new faces and the prospect of the hollow can be at time much to bear… Let not forget, the cruel discovery of many of your past friends, it seems not so long where waving their arms and praised you with encouragements, which somehow have turn to a pile of ashes… Those feelings are simply that! Useless Feelings, emotions bubbles soon to be burst if you wish so! The one who has manage to cross the entire wood from one side to the other, can survive and succeed, remember those words when the rain beats hard, and the sky seems to crash your spirit with such heavy clouds! That paths you had come through is unique and it is in those moments, that you must remember the sunshine and the blind faith of a brave man, who not so long ago decided to go upon his own journey and defied all creatures, earthly, heavenly and hellish… Oh and yes, this is only the beginning… Indeed, the young mum holds firmly this newborn fierce and proud; does it really matter if it was all an accident, a mistake of nature? COPYRIGHT@2006.H.N.MARGOT.

« 23 APRIL2006 » “5.30AM” Shall I rejoice to my old friend passing by? While the temptation was too intense and I am playing the piano with crystalline fingers upon the stone of this mausoleum, future graveyards and bypass links , laying bare their bones to the imagination, of those like me, whose need much to trigger the gun & watch themselves from above falling from grace, upon some old habit soil. Such is: a hit and run animal, clinging to existence, who’s passers by gaze at, hopelessly dying, till some dark trouser comes to give the last rite/ kick upon his bleeding skull, to finish what the metal engine had already started… OBLIVION! Well here am I, like an anorexic fox. Shall we just pretend? As London is full of their skinny cadaverous skeletons plague by mange wandering the streets at dust…. Early rise: - the last remain, not of the last super! -Thank god for that! But of an early rise, 5.30 AM, my favourite time to wake up and sips my coffee in the middle of light candles and supporting dragonfly lampshade. Wandering about my day, full of plan before the “far too small” hours of rest struck me like lightning on my cranium! And I shall crawl to an early grave on those hours of a cosy afternoon, to lick my bleeding scars and fails to the psychological pain of, what I shall perceive by then, a certain failure! Well, I have suspected for a while it will be too tale indeed… Cancer must have took hold of my brittle bones by now and if not, the small precarious balance of a genius, shall be such as the coliseum of Rome’s crash under the foundation, so while standing in my most dignified glory, I shall not falls completely from grace! Oh well, U shall not! Screams the small angel upon my left shoulder or was it the tiny red devil, who still wear his sheep clothes, hopelessly mistaken me, for some village idiot, gullible by such bad garment, why don’t you bother put at least your burning tail under the warps of your coat as for the horns…. But temptation was too sturdy; my compulsive desire to sleep was to become my sin! Not need for details, longs is gone the morbid fascination of such details. I am more adamant of it all, if not blazed or glazed. Yes, he howls like a frails animal, my weaknesses! But have I not thrive above most precarious diagnoses of doctors, (which are a bunch of useless contemporise charlatans)fills with the wildest narrow visions/ dreams of “We knows what good/ bad for you , has if!” I admit going slightly over the top but for somebody of my tolerance, far is the Mount Everest from climbing/ dancing over the rainbow & Miss Garland be my witness, here am, meeting my old friend 5. 30 AM like I had spend a old year, seating at the same seat watching hopelessly the sun rise with the same delightful melancholy , over and over…. It had to be says it is more then appropriate and somehow, the finality of it all, is somehow purifying to the soul. River waiting for his next victim, blessing for the unborn infant in some merciful gesture…by blooded hands! “Ahhhhhhhh” would says the common man, I longs for those future days! -The veto & the stench of dirty water mix with the earth & ashes. The sky open like an open book, upon my last chapter, watching the all mourning cortege before the closure of a passing by, storm& replace that coming day with the future voice, the lullaby of my childhood river! Floating upon the last satanic verses of my so-called friends/ family! Yes ladies and gentlemen’s, so it is….. Trading the guillotine for the most glorious sleep , well, average, five hours to be truthful, which seems to blend like a ripen orange against my body clock! I shall meditate, give satisfaction to my plants and dress them for a long awaited summer; such seems a boring Sunday core, which I adore and learns to take pleasure in the simplest stacks! To finalize the all thing by meeting a friend for lunch, friend, lover, who knows? I shall not look, I shall not expect, the paths of encounter is like a dirty alleys ways fills with maggots I am tired of! I must go, as I have all the attention of the world to make this day, the first day of my recovery, the one I knows well,my poison for stain decades but nevertheless who have fed my soul with artifice and fireworks! Be bless family & friends, despise U burden silence holding the knife to severe me from your life… It will be too late to cry, but I suspect the words of “it was inevitable….as he was….”shall creeps for the even more cripples freaks of all. Lies and lies over again but maybe this is why I am writing the verses of a dying man? A core I love most of all, to start my day…. But here am I again, jumping the gun, let take a turn and start again! Once upon a time, born a morning dews… COPYRIGHT@2006.H.N.MARGOT.

Having few drinks and some cigarette the other night have truly disabled my balance of the past 2 weeks. Time, time time and time again…. Can I just pretend I am still in this cocoon of childhood, warms, and under the warps of my mum? Well, it seems the climate is calling for glory, my friend the sun is up and I suspect battling his way with the last remain soldiers of the bitter cold army. It shall win… Would I too? Temptation has been to his highest the past few evenings and like a trap animal in a cage, I have long for my dolls. The chemist mourns his pharmacy… the arsenic somehow seems to water down for somebody like me, who looking back, has never really swim into the depth of nature, without his little colourful friends, one to wake up, to works and smile, to forget, induced euphoria and sleep… And the same vicious circle goes on forever…. Oh well, I suspect it will take a while for me, to fully get back to the root of nature. My sleep while better is still rather hectic, waking up in the early hours, many times thought the night. Nightmares come and go perpetually…. If I am right it seems, the dolls used to take me to oblivion… But did I not hear about the “Valley of the dolls” ……. “To reach the valley of the dolls. It is a brutal climb to reach that peak. Which so few have seen. ……..you are alone and the feeling Of loneliness is overpowering.” .Jacqueline Susan. It feels like I have reached that top…sometimes. And when I look down, all I see are passing friends, lovers, all down, smiling dancing… Oh well, there is still some humans forms and underlying passions, hopefully?! Where the soul is neither above or bellows but lost in the realms of the hungry ghosts… For the end, but never the least! Today is the day, I shall meet my date. I am not sure if I can take another rejection? I am rather apprehensive….in case things do not goes the right direction. Because I know how easy it would be to falls again in the wrong side of the fence. But I must not think or act this way, this is a very good test of my endevours “Do not Fails” ! Therefore it is with positive energy that I shall meet “G”…. The dolls are dead, long live, the ……………………..??? COPYRIGHT@2006.H.N.MARGOT.

So much about having a nice weather! Never listen the weathercast, full of….rain in this case!!!! AND PLEASE DON`T SAYS YOU SORRY! As I spend my afternoon recovering sleeping, I wake up with the same dreads…. Was I right to send my link of my blog to my friends? But so many of them, through the years have told me to write my life story (I knows I sound like an old paper bag, ready to burst his clock!). Well, I guess from having kept a secret for so many years silent, by fears of being punish and feeling guilty, I have rather arose from the ashes! So maybe it is part of the healing process, after all those are only thoughts and memories , some more colourful then others, while others more sober upon the canvas of a life who seems to have been soak in liquor & prescribe drugs, lalalalala…I could sing it all loud and pretend it never really happen, but as I have live 7 lives already, maybe it is true and time to write my semi conscious autobiography, I have the power to erase the all thing if I choose too tomorrow… I guess I am going to make it more fun, after all, I am the best mother little helpers when it comes to tell tales of my past and broken journey. Let get something very clear. I had PLENTY OF FUN! TRUST ME ON THIS ONE; -I am a hedonist of first class! Champagne and sex, powder my nose while I sip my drink, the all thing mix so well….just don’t forget the condom. - while too young to realised my daddddddddddddy sugar ( the priest ) seems these day like a funny joke on the old establishment, well, I do seriously suspect , of what is left of the poor sod, rocking with Satan. But then, this species of peoples seems to live forever…. - As for Christelle, I suspect she is far better off where she is, and while I spend a certain degree versing fountain of tears on the page, she being rather busy dancing upon the clouds. - Oh and yes, most of the time, I did enjoyed my sessions , “thank god, I was not always force to do it” - I was lucky to loved and still think it will happen again, - And if all fails, let just says, I rather go over any days to the valley of the dolls, then where most peoples go on Monday mornings….do I need to says more, u knows who u are , don’t you?! Who I am fooling, I am trying to light up as I feel this awful dreads carry on sucking out my inside, bastard! And no escape, no pills to take, the dolls have been to rest, in semi retirement, while not gone yet, there still lurking and calling for more… I think this was the way to do it? Quite ironically, while I was never able to say it, here I am, telling the world about it! Talking bout feeling vulnerable, I feel like an open mussels exposed for the pleasure of all, to dissect me and take a piece of me, sadistic or masochist? I wonder… Or maybe the fact I find out the death of S.H yesterday open my eyes, I remember after finding out, thinking, or may I rephrase this. Longing for life, thinking how fast death could be knocking on my door too one day! Strangely again, in my paradoxes world , I had invited this lady dress in her most glorious black lace dress so many time, I can almost says, we copulated more then once, me and her, knows each others rather well…. But she might have let me flirt with her many a time, she never let me take this last breaths of her, the cold breeze upon my neck, she never let me taste fully, I guess like my old special friend, who send me a emails last night after reading my web of souvenir says; (I will change the name for anonymity reason needless to say….) “”dearest Herve your writing remains as powerful as ever... never fading, never waning while I see the rhythmic heartbeat pulsing through sentence after sentence and witness the boiling blood coursing through each and every word, I know you still have so much to live for... no matter what anyone says and no matter how you may feel, I know you still have many more tales to tell, thousands more words to scribe be they fairytale or truths made of the unimaginable – you will have your day and they will listen... with love Xxx (thank Mister…) So far so good… Another statement who I find touching… Herve, Thank you for the link, a very interesting, frank and open blog, I would expect no less from you! I hope you are well and happy in what you are doing. I am having a party next Saturday if you fancy coming along Hope to see you soon XXX Now that sound rather exiting…a party sound like my thing, I am in a mood to loose out while I have to watch carefully not to falls from the other side of the fence. I have been rather happy this last few weeks, managed to stop the sleeping pills and just keep on a very small dosage of valium for the decreasing of the toxins I have stuck up for so many years. Maybe I will allowed myself some cigarettes….it is better to smoke then visiting the valley of the dolls…in my case ( but I strongly discourage anyone to smoke of course in the first place, but if u are one of my kind and fills with sins and craving for more and more… In the mid time, I am about to carry on writing my satire, about a “ex sleeping pills addicts who become a priest ….” Sound familiar….I got the uniforms, for all those of you fetish’s peoples. Ok time to get back to reality and wears my grey uniforms, the one who says nothing about me, who smiles and sparks with bubbles… The pretty face for the masse…. COPYRIGHT@2006.H.N.MARGOT.

I had this idea for a while… If I don’t succeed in my field of studies, let says, in one year time, to find some employment in a job I can flourish and growths. I have few other alternatives; -1; I take the bottle of barbiturates with champagne! -2; I turn to priesthood; I reckon they must be some awsome orgies going on! -3; I dig out Lolo Ferrari Tits and sell them on EBay (but I suspect Jordan will be bidding high!) …. I am sure before the end of the day; I will have come out with more succulent ideas to become free…. COPYRIGHT@2006.H.N.MARGOT.

Samedi et assit dans la pièce sombre de mon appartement, alors que dans ma routine des années déchus, je n arrive même plus a me rappeler la dernière fois, que j ais eu la chance de ne pas travailler un weekend. J ais les épaules lourdes, la voie de ma démence me murmure, n`y croit pas…. Je ne suis pas loin, vient vers moi, tu sais qu’il nyû pas d ailleurs, alors avale moi, voluptueuse et fibreuse névroses… Alors, je cherche le courage de continuer ce que j ais commencer il y a 2 semaines. Malgré que les « poupées » me manquent terriblement, je dois tenir les coups, ou il ne restera que des cendres et des mots qui s`évaporeront comme l éther. J en est trop baver, a mort, qu’on les mène a la guillotine ! Sur ce champs de bataille chimique ou gisent leur corps affaiblit ou dessécher par les années d abus, leur cadavres qui continuent à parfumer la scène chimique d`un tableau psychotrope. Tu sais que nous ne seront jamais vraiment séparés, ce n est qu’une question de temps. Soit patiente… Tu seras la compagne de mon requiem ! COPYRIGHT@2006.H.N.MARGOT.

Cum on my son, go for it……….All over my face! OupsS sorry for the sordid humour but it is Saturday morning and there is no much left to do but to go on a ride of twisted verses…anyway, most poetry speaks louder the true! I feel rather energized despise "hacking" from the slow process of unwinding my body from “mother little helpers”, but at least I can have a decent sleep no great yet, but I think with time it shall come one way or the other end of the gravity, 6 foots under! So for the first time in donkey years, I am free to do what the hell I like, yesterday was such a peculiar day…. They say this “things” comes always in 3. So indeed it seems! First; one of my client who work in film seems to think it might be able to get me a job in the industry regarding my degree and level of expertise in the field but being the cynical I am, I will believe it when it happens! 2; And then while chopping away my thoughts, I means this man hair, the conversation felt on the subject of some club. club I knows rather well, a small section of my youths…DJ, friend, ex-lover, eitherway, find out it pass away R.I.P (S.H)….shock. 3; But to conclude the all scene like some vaudeville comedy, this peculiar messenger of death left without forgetting to leave me his number. Why not, I sure had plenty of date with the devil and dance upon the graves of his victims! By night, I was already flirting with my hollow misfits …. Once upon a time, the phone used to be my best friend today the silver screen of my pc has replace the analogue of the past…reaching for the cyber stars! Waking up is always nice, as I still feel warms and feeling like I am still swimming in some ovaries of the child who died. I slightly , like I always do, regret maybe to have send the link of my blog to my friends and quittances, but after a very short mind expansion, decided it was nothing wrong with the fact to do so & so what… I have nothing to hide and even less to feel ashamed of! Actually I think this is part of the process of healing from the scars of the past. I suffocated for far too long with deep secrets who kills and for somebody who learn to speak with his pen, before it could says a full sentence without stammering, like some clumsy drunk bum, it seems to make sense to close the knuckle who so often I felt on my back, and be open about it, let all this vermin’s, this rats, who have fed upon my flesh and guts free, where they belongs, indeed those was never really my friends, but excess baggage’s I had learned to carry. It is rather nice to watch them, running for their life into the gutter….while i walk on spring grass…… I feel something in the air, Cum on son, The sun is coming! COPYRIGHT@2006.H.N.MARGOT.

Where do you start? I have got a story to tell you or maybe I got a tale to tell myself…. This is the story of me = H.N.M An autobiography where there is no end or beginning, a labyrinth of memories, where the little boy got lost along the ways and suddenly like fairy tale wake up to the taste of Coffey! I guess like most, I should start from the beginning, but I find myself wandering in some dark alley ways and can see in the dark, despise years of abuse. Tonight, I was seating on the edge of the full moon, talking to my dear friend, trying to forget or remember? Time has come to speak loud! Why do we feel so guilty? I was ABUSED AS A CHILD. You see my little friend it wasn’t so hard to screams on the page, the word, was it? It was a summer afternoon, I was alone with “him”, and I can still smell the liquor in his breaths. And like a broken angel hanging above the bed, I still see myself, lying on the sheets. Those were empty days/nights. Even now, I always carry the guilt’s of your act, I lived a lies for so long and still blamed myself till, no so long… But I must breaths and live too. So I will tell the tale of a dysfunctional child who care to the other end of the game. I was nature mistake! A nice start in life, I could almost laugh it off, if this was all a dreams/ nightmares, but secret kills and this one is about to blow you away! There is no escape but simply says the true, there is no one to hurt, there is no tears left… So why are you so scare? Why do you still the need to speak in dyslexic verses? Maybe so I can hide behind the words, it is so easy indeed. I guess the difference from the usual story I still have no idea of the end of this dismantle tale. I hurt and hurt many along the ways, and tonight I am alone with myself and my old friend the moon… I still find it so hard to speak loud the “veritas”, so I choose to hide behind some Latin curtains! I could have turn to be a serial killer but choose instead the road of success, oh well, does it really matter if I fails later on… What matters is the present! I am here ain`t I? Like a jar fills with shadows and regrets I swim in my own puss! Somehow still holding on to hope and fake joy! Do you think I am amused by this twisted game? I suppose tomorrow will be another day, another exit to escape. I have this awful feeling in a nut shells; - H.N.M was abused from the day he born till he was 10 years old. Physically and sexually. By the ages of 17, he had his stomach pump 3 times, being hospitalized 3 times in psychiatric unit, rape twice, addicted to prescribe medications and run away to England by the age of 18 years old. From 18 years old to 30; He had become a top hooker who slept with important peoples, judges, politicians, priest, oh yes…. Even the blade slicing your arms in self destruction mode did not stop the pain…. Before I knew needle were hanging from my arms! Form 30 till tonight; -Reformed addict / prostitute, who achieve to get a first class honour degree and the hope it might help… “Me sweet sometimes, when the little boy whisper in my ears, I am here…” I hold U tight in my arms and sing lullabies, no-ones shall hurt you anymore… I sing loud in the morning to suppress the nightmares of the passing nights, to forget & pretend! Sometimes, I fall to the bottom of the page, and beg for help…to be rescue. But there is no ones left, I have learns well to destroy what I love the most! Myself included this is the autopsy of an abused child, who does no care to open his soul to the world to be dissected in pieces! Take what you like, there is no place or rest for the soul has long gone, so take a bite of me! I am coming up on S.O.S! They says forget the past, live in the present... How easy it is to tell such idiotic statements! I won’t spare any details, co`s I can see in the dark. Like a blind man walking without his walking stick upon a land I knows so well, tattooed in the flesh of the child, baby don’t forget to take your meds… Maybe tomorrow, maybe not, my life story on silver screen, so many told me, so many have died to tell the true… Please help. COPYRIGHT@2006.H.N.MARGOT.