« Le suprême bonheur de la vie, c’est la conviction qu’on est aimé ;

aimé pour soi-même, disons mieux, aimé malgré soi-même. » – Victor Hugo


I’m weak…

I must be a really good actor or a good lia, ain’t that the same?
Laughing and being happy outside
But crying and being completely heart broken inside
I think I’m strong but I’m weak.




Life motto…


Unrequited love, the story of my life…

It’s been a while since I last uploaded this blog. I promise I will be here more often. Today, I’m feeling very sad, because the love that I had (well I still have) for the past 5 months is an unrequited love… and it does hurt… a lot..

“You will be out with friends
when the news of her existence
will be accidentally spilled all over
your bar stool. Respond calmly
as if it was only a change in weather,
a punch line you saw coming.
After your fourth shot of cheap liquor,
leave the image of him kissing another woman
in the toilet.

In the morning, her name will be
in every headline: car crash, robbery, flood.
When he calls you, ignore the hundreds of ropes
untangling themselves in your stomach.
You are the best friend again. He invites
you over for dinner and you say yes
too easily. Remind yourself this isn’t special,
it’s only dinner, everyone has to eat.
When he greets you at the door, do not think
for one second you are the reason
he wore cologne tonight.

In his kitchen, he will hand-feed you
a piece of red pepper. His laugh
will be low and warm and it will make you
feel like candlelight. Do not think this is special.
Do not count on your fingers the number
of freckles you could kiss too easily.
Try to think of pilot lights and olive oil,
not everything you have every loved about him,
or it will suddenly feel boiling and possible
and so close. You will find her bobby pins
laying innocently on his bathroom sink.
Her bobby pins. They look like the wiry legs
of spiders, splinters of her undressing
in his bed. Do not say anything.
Think of stealing them, wearing them
home in your hair. When he hugs you goodbye,
let him kiss you on the forehead.
Settle for target practice.

At home, you will picture her across town
pressing her fingers into his back
like wet cement. You will wonder
if she looks like you, if you are two bedrooms
in the same house. Did he fall for her features
like rearranged furniture? When he kisses her,
does she taste like wet paint?

You will want to call him.
You will go as far as holding the phone
in your hand, imagine telling him
unimaginable things like you are always
ticking inside of me
and I dream of you
more often than I don’t.
My body is a dead language
and you pronounce
each word perfectly.

Do not call him.
Fall asleep to the hum of the VCR.
She must make him happy.
She must be
She must be his favorite place in Minneapolis.
You are a souvenir shop, where he goes
to remember how much people miss him
when he is gone.”
Sierra DeMulder, Unrequited Love Poem


Becoming myself…

It’s been a while since my last post

A lot have been going on with my life! I quit my job, I’m currently writting a screenplay for a zombie movie (yes you read it right a zombie movie!), trying to write some lyrics, taking egyptology class in spanish, thinking of leaving my city, my country, my family for London… Well, it’s strange but I kinda feel more complete now than when I had this fancy job last year (even throught I don’t have a lot of income ^^)!

Let me share some of my lyrics (ahhh I’m shy that the first time I will share a sneak peek of my work)

“And we leave and we learn,
We see and we burn,
All these crazy situations
Or should I call them allegations?
They will lead us to that world of frustrations
and one day to our destruction..”


Oh Frida, Frida, Frida!

“I used to think I was the strangest person in the world but then I thought there are so many people in the world, there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do. I would imagine her, and imagine that she must be out there thinking of me too. Well, I hope that if you are out there and read this and know that, yes, it’s true I’m here, and I’m just as strange as you.” ― Frida Kahlo

Las dos Fridas, 1939

Frida Kahlo, oh Frida… Where to start… I didn’t like her (her work) back then. I had to work on her painting during all my Spanish classes… Each year we had a semester dedicated to Frida!! I think I was tired of her work and of my Spanish classes. Working on the same painting each year… That must be the reason why I didn’t want to understand her, her feeling, her pain… I was like “OMG that girl was crazy/scary, she was sooo obsessed with HER DIEGO”

“I don’t paint dreams or nightmares, I paint my own reality.” ― Frida Kahlo

Then one day, a friend gave me her diary… Frida íntima (Diary of Frida Kahlo). This book deeply affected me. It gave me inspiration and deeper insight into my own life…I started to understand how fascinating / amazing she was/is! Her accident, her need to paint, her pain, her sick passionate love for Diego Rivera (well, tbh I still don’t understand that part especially after his affair with Frida’s sister), her deep thoughts…

Now, she is one of my favorite painter!

“I hope the exit is joyful and i hope never to return.” ― Frida Kahlo