Oil, Meet Water (NaBloPoMo #11)

Today’s prompt was: “Of the people who are close to you, who is the person most unlike you?”

On the people who are close to me, the person must unlike me is myself.

I live with two persons in my body and I keep going back and forth between them.

One is always smiling, the other one keeps staring into to space.

One is happy with her friends, one wants to sleep forever.

One wants to do anything she could possibly imagine, the other one keeps holding her back.

One is someone people like for here kindness, one is someone people hate for her nastiness.

One is great, one is miserable.

One is happy,  one is depressed.

One is free, one is prisoner of anxiety.


Life is too short to.. (NaBloPoMo #10)

Life is too short to say no.

Suffering from panic attacks, I find myself saying no the the things I want to do the most by fear that’ll either freak out or be judged.

It sucks. I can’t count how many things I regret of not doing just because I was scared. But I say no anyways. The fear takes over and it doesn’t matter if I know I’ll regret it later. I can’t do it.

I regret not doing that huge ziplane that made you fly over Las Vegas, I regret not kissing that boy I liked just because I panicked when he got too close to me, I regret not dancing at every parties I go to because I’m afraid to be surrounded by too many people looking at me, I regret arriving late at school, on purpose, because I was too afraid to have a panic attack in the middle of the class.

I should say yes, because life is way to short for not doing what you really want to.

Let my friendship be. (NaBloPoMo #8)

Change is good, well, change is often good, you may not think at first, but it will be in the long run.

But life should have left my friendship untouched, life should not have let it come apart pieces by pieces. It should have always stay the same, you and I, on the same boat, always happy, or miserable, but only at the same time. School, friends, popularity, time, boys, they should not have come between us.

Little bits of our friendship comes back sometimes, but then vanish as fast as it came back. I feel like you don’t care, you may feel like I don’t care either, but pride touched our friendship, it shouldn’t have.

The other part of our lives that have always been there grew, and began to define ourselves, and we changed, we went into opposites directions. This change was vital for both of us, but why this change had to slowly break what we had?

What we had, this is what should’ve been untouched.

(this is day 8 of the November Writing Challenge)

This is a letter from my phone. (NaBloPoMo #7)

This is a letter from my phone.

Dear Héloise,

As much as I like you, I really need to tell you this. Stop using me every seconds of your life, and start enjoying what’s surrounding you. Who knows what you might be missing while walking in the street, me glued to your hand.

This being said, you’re very entertaining, is there anything a phone likes more than listening to teenagers’ conversations about boys, school, parents and boys (and boys)?! I particularly love your snapchat’s screenshots.

Whenever I’m bored I read all of your old texts and appreciate how much you’ve changed in the past years. I’m super proud of you for not saying “lol” anymore.

You’re not the best phone owner, though.. You hurt me a lot and don’t take good care of me. Don’t mind me being a killjoy, but I’m saying it again: STOP USING ME AS MUCH! You’re waisting our time watching stupid YouTube videos, reading stupid tweets, scrolling for hours through stupid Instagram photos. I’d rather sleep all day, you know.

Have a nice life and know that I’m glad to share it with you (but seriously: keep me in your bag).

Your phone

(this is day 7 of the November Writing Challenge)


This is a letter to my future child. (NaBloPoMo #6)

This is a letter to my future child.

Hello baby,

I’m sixteen as I’m writing you this letter, and it feels very bizarre to think that I’ll be a mother to a wonderful child one day.

I’ll be your mother, and I’m sure I am really proud to be. I genuinely hope that your father and I are going to be the best parents as we can so you can grow into this big-hearted person that I dream to have raised.

I could give you life advice, but let’s be honest, I’m sixteen, what do I know about life? And even if I did know about it, I’m sure you’re going to take the best out of your upcoming mistakes.

I think that I’ll be a great mom, I’m having a lot of practice with your uncle Noé who is currently two,  you know. He’s probably fifteen while you’re reading this and I cross my fingers for him to be an amazing teenager and a great role-model to you. I love him so much and I can’t even dream about a better baby than him, I don’t know how I could love someone else more than him, but I probably will with you, my wonderful baby girl.

I’m guessing you’re a girl, it seems so natural to me that you are. I may not know you’re father yet, I may do. I hope I don’t and I hope I do.

You’re probably born in Paris or maybe in New York, let’s see what the futur brings us and let’s accept it as it’s going to be.


Your sixteen years old mother.

(this is day 6 of the November Writing Challenge)