dans les rues de londres

Maybe later; maybe done

anna_is — Sun, 04 May 2008 09:47:25 GMT

This space is one too much for me, at the moment. For many reasons. I might be back, one day; I'll let you know, you, the few that are reading.

I'm sorry.

Take care of you all. And thanks for being here.

Anna_iS

PS: I'll be at the french house, if you want to read me. I can't change it: it still IS the language of my heart.

Did someone say "spring"?

anna_is — Wed, 23 Apr 2008 06:11:00 GMT

It's just like the rain is never going to stop. Every sunrise is missing, replaced by a grey coat lying over the growing day. And I almost feel the drops like a shiver down my spine. I try to work, try to forget that no hour, no minute, no second is coming back. I have to finally get on the train of this scary life of mine.

There's no alternative.

(And somewhere, inside, I'm still hoping for some ray of light)

(Don't) Imagine

anna_is — Tue, 15 Apr 2008 06:43:00 GMT

It's always a nice thing to watch the news in the morning. You feel safe, nothing has changed.

Italy has got Berlusconi back; Zimbabwe is still waiting for some democracy; China is hanging on with a few semantical problems between war and game, olymic rights and human ones; in the country of the never ending dream two democrats are fighting around guns and shots, gently giving away any credit they had while Mc Cain is just waiting, watching and... smiling. Obviously, Clinton and Obama hadn't watch a lot of TV last year during the french run for presidency, otherwise they'd know it better...

...and, speaking of France, Carla and the dwarf are still trying to pretend than long legs and a huge ego are enough to safe the country from all issues.

That's nice.

It's a big relief to see that the world is in good condition. We can be proud of us.

Morning habits

anna_is — Thu, 03 Apr 2008 06:40:30 GMT

My third day and I already have some kind of habits in this new job. Every morning, I'm at the office a bit before eight, so I can have more than an hour just for me. It might sound strange, but I love to be up early in the morning because of the special atmosphere that I can feel. Its like if the day would be untouched, still full of promises and surprises... and to imagine how this new adventure is going to be fill me up with energy and some kind of weird serenity.

Sadly, this senerity is usually disappearing with the hours passing by.

But, still, this moment in the morning is special. The building is calm, dark and quiet. There's only me to make it live, to make it move. And it's ilke I'd have a thousand lifes sleeping inside me, just waiting for me to wake them up...

Six Feet Under

anna_is — Fri, 28 Mar 2008 15:09:00 GMT

I've just found me favourite quote of all.

- "I understand that you don't want to take this difficult path. Life is so fucking hard even when it's easy."

(Maggie to Nate, Season 5)

(Not a big revelation, but still, it had to be said.)

Next round

anna_is — Tue, 25 Mar 2008 18:32:00 GMT

A jump right into the snowy wheather of my Swiss existence. It's beautiful, but my head and my mood need spring, desperately. I've went back to the daily walk with my dog, a short hour just for myself, thinking of everything that's lost. And everything that's won. It's strange to be back here, again.

Today I woke up and I had the feeling to have been dreaming for a very very long time, with colorful characters, vibrant nights and amazingly full days... just a fraction of a second, then it was gone and I realized I hadn't been dreaming.

But what's the way going to be, now? Which path is going to be the next and what will the mirrors be telling me when this year is over?

A whisper of spring

anna_is — Tue, 18 Mar 2008 11:11:20 GMT

The park is like the lively symbol of spring this morning. Sunny and freshly awaken. Memories are playing hide and seek in my head and I feel happy just to feel so strongly alive.

Them

anna_is — Mon, 17 Mar 2008 09:58:00 GMT

He told me „write about us“.

It was just before I left, just before I got into this coach driving to the steel giant who flies in the sky (so one says). I remember me and my head trying to shake off this sceptical look, because, you know, how could I possibly describe them, after what they made grow inside me. A whole new world. How to write about that?

But then here, sitting in this house in France that used to be mine (still is, so I want to believe sometimes), I think about his request and their eyes following me slowly disapearing on the end of the road and I realize that my fingers and my stomach want to try it. It’s just my brain that has to follow then, isn’t it?

There’s S. first, proud and sentimental, and ready to take the earth on his shoulders if it can make someone happy. Big eyes and straight look, always looking forward because the past is the past and there’s room for no regret in what may come. I admire his ability to make a move in every stucked and risky situation, to make a move when everyone else is hiding in some vague excuses, to make a move when he believes in it and that’s enough. I just want to tell him that, choosing this path, he can never lose, never fail, because the honesty that he puts in every step is something that no one will be able to take away from him. It’s won and safe, resting inside his memory.

Then there’s her, C., hiding behind her fringe and her laugh much more than she wants to give away. She’s one of those who light up a room when they enter, sparkling and shining just because they’re themselves. Around her there’s a surplus of life and sun; and breathing suddenly seems easier. She talks with her hands and it seems that she gives birth to magical worlds with her wrists, the kind of worlds where you’d like to live in. Her silhouette is a fairy one’s but she’s all real, carrying around gloomy images from the past and the future, and fears that come knocking on her dream’s door. Her I’d like to promess that she can be proud. Of herself and her choices. And, bella, you’ll see: We’ll both win.

And finally D., the one for whom I try to write all this down, a bit like a daily sign that he’s always with me, somewhere between my head and my heart. It’s hard to say something about how I feel without sounding cheesy, but I’m half french after all, so I shall be forgiven. He’s the proof that tolerance and understanding isn’t about nationality nor gender, neither about age or experience, just about intelligence and the ability to listen. I admire him for hoping again and again, for believing that there’s a way to make everyone happy and to be sure of what you see in other people’s eyes. Theres’s not a lot of people about whose you can say „with more persons like him, the world would be a better place“. He’s one of those. And, above all, when I was looking at his smile, I always felt at home.

Now, one could say I also could have just write that they’re my friends and that I’m going to miss them. But, let’s be honest: how would that possibly have improved my english?

A new language. A new start. Again.

anna_is — Sat, 15 Mar 2008 13:53:00 GMT

Since I know I won't be able to forget London - not that I'd want to! - I've decided to start a blog in english. The main reason I'd give to anyone who doesn't know me very well would be that I want to take the CAE exam in June and that I have to keep my level if I want to pass it. But, to be honest, it is mainly to keep close to this lovely two months I had, to this impression of freedom and craving for more life. It won't be a very literary or high standard blog. Just a place where I can write down my daily life and share some feelings with those I have left there, in this crazy capital.
Be welcome. Everyone. And it would make me smile to see a written trace... just to know you where here, on the other side of a computer.

(À mes lecteurs français:
De retour en France (puis en Suisse), je reprends mon activité d'écriture sur "crave", mon adresse habituelle. Pour quiconque voudrait me suivre en anglais aussi, ici.... vous êtes les bienvenus!!)

Quelques nuits encore

anna_is — Mon, 10 Mar 2008 08:58:00 GMT

Assise dans le bus ce matin je pensais au depart, deja. La ville s'effilochait dans mon regard a cause des trainees de pluie sur la vitre. J'etais sereine et triste a la fois. Mais pendant que les accents nostalgiques de Maximilian Hecker emplissaient ma tete je me suis dis que c'etait bien, d'etre triste de partir.

I feel my heart is breaking
I think I lose my head
I'm singing all the love songs
And never go to bed
I'm walking in the sunshine
I'm walking in the rain

So I'm leaving
I am breathing
I have nothing to lose

(Green Night, M. Hecker)