A room of one’s own (Inspired by Grand Corps Malade)

Just like all of you I joined it naturally
That’s where I learnt my first words, my first feelings
I grew up between those four walls
It’s my favourite room, it’s called the school of life.

There are several teachers and a lot of mandatory subjects
But some are optional and teach you a great deal about yourself.
You generally start with the teacher of insouciance.
He made me fear less and in a subtle manner taught me confidence.
I then had the class of friendship,
I was an average student as all my fellow classmates.
Then came the teacher of responsability, it was necessary
But he put an end to my afternoon siestas.

I then took the selfishness class
I was a brilliant student, I loved my teacher
But I quit when he started accepting other students.
I have been imposed the class of loyalty, with the teacher of commitment.
Many of my classmates then took the religion class.
I joined out of curiosity, I was really interested
But it seemed as an asbestos to me.
Plus the class reduced significantly later, so I left too.
I enjoyed the class of revolt and desobedience.
And when I was expecting her the less, came the love teacher.

I gave my time and energy to this class
I exceled in group activities with the girls in the class.
This class was adventurous but complicated and difficult
That I lost myself and failed quiet a few times
I can tell that more than love,
She taught me deception and disappointment
And made me stronger in the class of weakness.
After love many more subjects have been chained;
Hurt feelings, hatred, boredom, cynism, capitalism…
I also followed the truth and the lying class
We never know, both could be useful.
I was really alone int the class of loneliness.
Those four, once happy, walls became a bubble.
Though it was confortable and helped me revise my selfishness lessons
There was no magic anymore
So I realised I had to make a room for others.

People join and leave, like migratory birds
But the school never changes, never refuses anybody.
Whether you want it or not, we are all classmates
We’re all in this room that can be enormous one day, and tiny the next day.
And as king’s knights, it’s our duty to conserve its integrity.
It’s my room, it’s your room, it’s our room, It’s the school of life.

Force Yourself

thunderstorm

If everyone tells you to move on, you probably should.
You’re not the first person on earth experiencing losing.
The only person against your happiness is yourself.
Stop questioning life because you lost something that never was yours.
You think people will sympathise with you just because you’re sad?
Pain is the human race’s middle name. You’ve been hurt so what?
Some people are nice, some people are hyppocrite; Get used to it.
Make a choice, it’s either the phial of cyanide or the fountain of youth.
Why do you drag her everywhere? she’s all over your writings, you write “her”.
She is not coming back, this is the story when Bonnie dies before Clyde.
Don’t plan to forget her, do it, force yourself, you have no other choice.
Now Writing is an umbrella that protects you from the downpour of emotions,
But what will happen during summer? Is it going back to the closet?
By closing yourself in that bubble, all you do is digging your own grave.
That’s not you, you’re not the morose person you think you’ve become.
Go out! Meet people. Go dancing, invite people. Have fun, get drunk.
Make a list of things you’ve always wanted to do, or don’t. Go with the flow.
Pull yourself together and try, you’ll see, nothing is irreversible.
Start walking and you will find yourself running.
You were born to shine, don’t miss your life, don’t be a shouting star.
Force your destiny. If you can’t turn the page, tear it. Force yourself.
This is an order. Go out. Happiness is waiting for you there.
Believe me, it’s worth it. And if you think it’s too hard, then force yourself.