Les rues

Les rues s'allongent,
et moi je baille, je baille,
Les rues s'allongent,
et moi je raille, je raille.

Les feux qui bougent,
et moi je nage, nage.
Il y'a du mouvement,
et moi je reste las.

Je vois mon reflet,
il me fixe par la vitre, immobile,
les silhouettes passent sur moi.

Il y a ce dos qui s'éloigne et qui me laisse derrière,
ce va et viens qui reste,
et cette détresse dans le regard.

ça tourne dans ma tête,
vertige et sirènes d'urgence.
Leurs destinations si vaines,
ce qu'ils ne savent pas c'est que j'y suis déjà allé. 

Along the canal

You hear the wheels of the five nice to fivers.
The darkness is awoken by the cycle bells.
A shadow appears in the lights for a brief moment,
catching the promess of your emptiness.
There is no one on the canal, just passengers. 

Cycling in London

First bike accident today. I was cycling towards a flat to visit in Hackney, feeling ok, hoping it was gonna be a nice place.

At one light, I was just turning left when I felt the pressure of a big black form coming from my right, it all happens real quick and you don't understand how is it even possible that someone does not realize you exist, you, the center of your own universe, means nothing to another person.

The turn was a bit tight for the van to pass between the pavement so he probably decided it was better to rush me to the left, even by making contact with me, the ant on wheels.

I stop as fast as possible, hurting my left ankle in the process and the side of his van twisted the axe of my right pedal. Under the shock of this, I just had the time to check his fucking car plate. Not being able to chase him because the accident made my bike chain derail.

I think the driver needed to pass quickly and realized in the turn that on his right side was the pavement and on the left something that could move more easily than concrete, so the choice was quick, pushing me towards my own pavement.

Look right, look left, and also be careful of fuckers in you back.
Fucking L.

Business in London

I know someone who worked for an hosting agency in london called regal promotion.
After a month, the agency did not pay her, pretending, that the client did not pay, saying it might take time to process the payment, etc...

One night, she decided to write on the Facebook of this hosting agency, Regal Promotion, i repeat the name (you know why) that they were unprofessional and missed to pay her for her services.

Shortly after, a guy called Frank Regal on Facebook decided to threaten and insult for her deciding to express her feelings on a social network.

the guy writes threats and insults like 'kiss my ass', says "now i will not pay you" and finishes by a very classy "you cunt".
Another best time of the conversation is when he pretends the payment was late because of another girl in the system with a similar name, a very fake similar name according to what he wrote.

Oh what a treat to see that London gives the opportunity to people like this man to exist and run a so called "business". After investigating the Facebook of this gentleman, you discover the classic suit and watch bling bling profile picture that tries to tell us he is a successful entrepreneur, but no, it only says how much this guy lacks empathy for the young girls and boys that try to make ends meet by working odd jobs for odd men...

But no instead the founder of regal promotion decides to bully and insult an harmless girl with his words that are worth as much as his fake suit and watch.

The good thing is the screenshot of the conversation are saved and this guy's reputation is not.
Un régal...
®

A place for dogs

You understand that something is wrong in a city when the dogs have a better life than some of the humans that live and work there.

In London you see few homeless and many dogs walked by paid walkers in nice winter coats, green parks and following a strict healthy diet. 

When the money becomes so meaningless, give it to your dog rather than your brother, the dogs might smell better...

I hate this, fucking L. 

London Safari - De beauvoir estate.

Just saw a fox running after a cat. The little one jumped on the fence and saved his ass, for now.
In front of my window, in the main garden of de beauvoir estate.
Sometimes at night you hear the scream of a cat, or another animal, just being killed by a fox.
London's wild life.

I love this, watching the nature out of my shitty place in a shitty estate in a fucking city I don't really like.

De beauvoir estate is in a golden triangle, between Angel, Shoreditch and Dalston. But it's also in the middle of nowhere, it's an island.
It's the shittiest place in the best place. 

Dogs and Duck

I was walking on the canal from angel tube to haggerston, on my way to de beauvoir estate, this crapy place in the golden triangle where I've just moved.


Angel (west)  - Old street (south) - Dalston Hacket (East)
and in the middle, the mer de beauvoir estate. Not really nice but I like crap.

I saw two dogs playing and the owners were looking at them with a smile, while the dogs jumped each other near the canal.
I stopped and i looked with them, a smile on my face.
I really felt like i was not right to be there. None of the two dogs were mine.
So here i was, as a intruder in this peculiar "dog owner" joyfull moment of seeing their beloved pets play.
And me.
Felt good, wrong but good.


Also there was a frozen duck, still, on the walk. Bikes would pass next to him and he did not give a *uck.

The hair dresser always know when to stay quite.

I wen to cut my air.
The guy that did it stayed focused, did not talk to me too much.
He knew I needed some silence. And the silence was joined with Phil Collins on his drum set on the radio.
This guy told me he was from Chypre. It was on Chiswick High road.
A place called "Chris".

The little girl's newspaper

There was this little girl, trying to read the newspaper, all this twice her size.
Sitting in the tube, all she really wanted was to look like an adult. 

I could have been a barista

I had a meeting on my first week in london for a position in a high standard coffee shop.
They consider coffee as wine, and the barista is the sommelier.
Let's just say when i arrived I probably drank coffee like 10 times in my life, no more, I'm not a coffee junkie, I hate mornings but instead of forcing me to wake up with coffee, I simply continue to sleep. Easy.

So I arrive in the shop and wanted to talk to the italian barista trainer for my interview. He is nice, and ask me to wait outside. He asks "you want a coffee", "of course, an espresso please". What else should I have said ?

"No, tea please."

I sit outside, there is an italian girl, seems like a waiter or employee of the coffee shop, crying and screaming on the phone outside. I already love this place.
The italian barista trainer sits with me and tells me the girl is his colleague, he then joins his hands in a prayer, looks at me and says "Women...".

I already like this man.
Judging by the screaming, tears and drama I think it has to do this sentimental life. But i like it, drama is life and boy she was living it fully.

I speak with him and general manger, it's ok, I say my stuff and he then asks me to follow him behind the counter to prepare a coffee.
Let me tell you I had looked on youtube how to prepare a decent coffee.
He does it. And then it's my turn. I take coffee inside the handle, I press it, espresso pours out, I steam the milk like a virgin and add it to the coffee with a huge smile on my face.
All the other employees were gravitating around me at this point. I looked like an ass. But I was having a huge laugh, in my head.

Two days later he offered me the position.
I could have been a great barista. But I wouldn't have been able to tell you this story. Next time maybe. 

It's a mess

London is a mess. There is people everywhere looking to buy some shit.
Shitty food, shitty clothes, shitty products you pay high price.
It's where all things come to find life but don't succeed.
You know it's gonna be off but you jump head first. 

The tube

Through the windows he saw the tears,

of the tube crying towards the wind.

No smoking said the sign,

but consume as much as pleased.

R.