In twenty hours I will have been around for twenty years,
Slowly I begin to ask myself: what have I accomplished so far?
The stereo’s playing a song that puts me back five years,
To a day I played a pc game with my sister and brother
I haven’t played ever since:

Comme le vent
Emporte les maux de coeur
Dans un ouragan
Tourbillon mille à l’heure
Je suis sans doute comme lui
C’est ok, je suis
Aux portes de ma vie *

Is it bad that I love a stupid song, a pop song?
Is this all there is? A memory linked to a French song,
A computer game? Have I nothing else to write about?
Parlo l’italiano, je parle français, ech ka lëtzebuergesch,
I master English, Latino studavi, ich spreche deutsch –
So what?
I write poems and short stories all day long,
That probably nobody except my friends will ever read.
So what?
I am an anarchist, a hopeless romanticist, a part time melancholist,
A lost pessimist, a fool in love and everything else that comes to my mind.
Like the wind…
Sitiing in my regular pub and feeling old, but comfortable,
Addressing the proprietor informally, regarding that cafe as a second home.
A quarter life crisis now that I realize the teenage is about to end,
And most of what comes to my mind are regrets. Regrets for things I always
Wanted to do, that I see the younger people do,
Things for which I missed the point to do them.
I was young and needed the money – about what exactly will I be able to say that?
I hate progress, now that I understand having taken thousands of pictures
Will not eternalize the events: they are just simulacra, silent images
Of what was and will never be again.
Now are the good old times as Peter Ustinov once put it:
Grommel will probably reproach me that I’m too melancholic,
And someone will ask me why this is a poem – is it? I don’t know.

Is this all there is, Flipsyde asks in their song. I guess it is.

But all I miss and keeps me from leaving melancholy behind is so hard to find back,
So difficult to hold, so impossible to understand and explain, so needed now
And always: Honor.

Sometime, maybe not in this life, I will find you, tell you and hold you in happiness
And sadness. Up till then, I will hold on to a red gown, a pink hair slide,
And remember that a forgotten backpack can have strange consequences,
While the Super Furry Animals sing that, at least, it’s not the end of the world.

— —
* Alizée: L’alizé (written and composed by Boutonnat and Farmer)


2 responses to “Promise”

  1. Serge

    you are premature :P now you are prematuringly getting old :D
    dont mind me ;)
    i wanted to know what is so important about 20 :) i am 20 and i feel no different then when i was 19 or 18 .. we evolve but we do so constantly and unnoticed event o ourselves most of the time. so i will reproach to you that you think in “teenage” and make a difference between 19 and 20 :) it is in my opinion a stupid thing to do because it does not reflect any reality.. for me you have passed “teenage” stade long ago, some people even dont have it …
    hm ok i gues si could go on ranting here but it gets ever more muddled so i better stop :P
    looking forward to your first grey hairs

  2. It is important when you see younger people do things you never did and which you cannot do as a twen anymore. :) That’s been haunting me for many months now, but it’s the big 20 which makes me realize it even more.

    I can’t rationally explain it, it’s just a feeling. As a friend of mine once said: ‚ÄúIt’s never wrong to feel, whatever the feeling is. You just have to decide if the consequences it has are good or bad.‚Äù I guess she was right. And I’ve decided that a bit of nostalgia isn’t bad, it only keeps you conscious of all the wonderful things that have been. Sometimes I drift into melancholy, I know, but hey, nobody’s perfect! I guess that’s my flaw – beside all the other ones. ;)

    Being permanently told that ‚Äútonight you’re going to bed as a teenager and wake up as a twen‚Äù and being asked ‚Äúhow do you feel about that?‚Äù doesn’t really help either. :)

    During the last year I evolved quite consciously. And most of my evolution is even written down – and no, it’s never going to be published. :)

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