What Cannot Be Healed

*Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.*

What does it mean to be in love, really? What if having feelings for someone and being in love are actually completely different?

Why do people fall in love several times in a lifetime? Then why make up the concept of ‘soulmates’?

When Dahlia looks at her life, it feels wonderful, almost perfect. One year ago, the world was on the brink of destruction. One year ago, she had almost lost her sister. Today, she can walk outside without the fear of being attacked. Today, humans have accepted and welcomed her race to live on Earth.

One year ago, her mentor, ally and one of the two most powerful Masterminds, sacrificed herself for peace.

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A Magnificent Rose Smelling Faintly Of Blood

“Love is the world’s infinite mutability; lies, hatred, murder even, are all knit up in it; it is the inevitable blossoming of its opposites, a magnificent rose smelling faintly of blood.”
– Tony Kushner, THE ILLUSION.

“This is a message to all the young women who have found their one and only.

This is a message to the girls who fell in love for the first time.

This is a message to those who believe in Love, because the reality of Love is far from what it really is.

A long term relationship is what we aspire to, because the myth of ‘soulmates’ have haunted us since we were young and stuffed with mediated representations of Love: two people ‘meant’ for each other. Yet, it is in a long term relationship that we learn, and we learn it the hard way: nothing in Real Love is ever like our Ideal idea of Love.”

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Heartbreak From A Stranger

I was looking for more violin players for our end-of-year orchestral shown when you appeared on our doorstep and offered to help.

Being the passionate leader that I was, I treated all my musicians as equally and uniquely important to my eyes. Taught you the arts, seeing you as an individual, not as a pawn.

In the middle of our rehearsals, one day, you came up to me and asked for your leave, because you had other more compulsory obligations and could not cope with everything. I understood, because I am human and you too, and let you go.

A side musical competition came up soon after, one that I did not find important but which my team mates did, thus we gave it much attention too.

On the day of the competition, as my orchestra was setting up, I saw you… on the other side of the stage, armed with your brand new violin, side to side with the opposing team.

You were so proud that you won and we lost.

I focused my orchestra back into the end-of-year show, and the latter was in fact a success. By that time I had forgotten all about you. People leave and people change.

The day you broke my heart was the day you came back to me.

Your orchestra had now a higher position than ours. You came to me to ask for my help for a future musical project. In other words, you needed slaves to do your work, because as the winning team, you would not dare degrade yourself to our standards.

The real truth was that you knew absolutely nothing about being in an orchestra, but you aimed for fame and royalty and here you are on top.

I have no choice but to fake a genuine innocent smile and abide by your wishes. My orchestra is under yours.

If not, I would have taken my orchestra in my own fall. And my orchestra is what I care for the most in life. I had to swallow my pride and my broken heart for the sake of my orchestra, its reputation and mobility. I had to close my eyes and let it go, for my orchestra to float up.

You had given me a unique opportunity for my orchestra, one I could not refuse.


An Evil Nymph.

WPC: Threes | A Hidden Murder Mystery

This week’s photo challenge is the theme of ‘Threes‘ in which we have to tell a story using three photos. Here’s what the Daily Post suggested:

To create a three-picture story, gather:

  1. An establishing shot: a broad photo of your subject.
  2. A relationship: two elements interacting with one another.
  3. A detail: a close-up of one part of your subject.

Thus, today I’m going to show you a story about… a hidden murder mystery!

It all happened in my friend’s cosy kitchen, where we were preparing some delicious Mauritian Napolitaine biscuits…

mauritian napolitaine

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The Story Of My Very First Art Exhibition

Saturday 14th September 2013.

I was really nervous. Especially that they would not only be exhibiting my painting, but also my portfolio and the idea of so many people going through my drawings just freaked me out. I’m very sensible about my art and although I should think about that, I can’t help but wonder whether people like what they see or not.

At the CCEF, there are two categories of art courses: one is the adult one, from 14 years old and up, like the one I got myself into, and the second is for the smaller ones, the children one.

On the day of the exhibition, the works of the younger ones were hung on the wall outside in the common corridor while ours were waiting for us in the exhibition room.

The cocktail party wouldn’t begin before 16.30 but together with my parents I arrived at 16.20. I had more than enough time to admire the children’s drawings, all so filled with talent🙂 The children’s group was already present and waiting as well, By 16.30 my friends came and soon the director of the Centre let us in the exhibition room. My friends and I waited a little, allowing the children to go first and finally went in…

panorama art exhibition

(I tried the panorama option, so as to get the whole room all together)

panorama art exhibition

And there they were, all of our works, paintings, on the walls, shining in artificial light.

Without wasting a single moment, parents and friends all urged us, the masters of our masterpieces to pose next to our work so that they would capture this moment with their cameras😉 That moment was actually so funny because we were just… lost in all this jungle of people staring at our work, taking photos… taking space as well. And the room wasn’t that big. But we finally made it to get to the front:

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5 Reasons Why I Prefer Evil Characters

therese desqueyroux françois mauriacLes « coeurs sur la main » n’ont pas d’histoire ; mais je connais celle des coeurs enfouis et tout mêlés à un corps de boue.

This French quote from François Mauriac very much describes my main motivation for siding with evil characters in my stories. I can’t really translate it though, because in English it won’t have that same impact it had on me, you see… The French language has a particular (charming and poetic) style that I just can’t reproduce in English. But basically, Mauriac tells us that he prefers to write on those who are ‘evil’ and unconventional instead of those who are good and virtuous.

I can totally understand why. (And I totally understand Mauriac thus that’s why I’m in love with his book, Thérèse Desqueyroux).

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