solitude | Guy Verville
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Articles found containing the term “solitude” (13)

No boyfriend, no dog, no cat

Who am I, by the way? I jokingly exclaimed while putting the cutlery in my neighbors' dishwasher. And one of them answered me: "No boyfriend, no dog, no cat". — 2019/07/13

The grains of sand

It seems to me that I hesitate more and more before speaking, as if my mind, drowned in wisdom, had no word to describe how it feels. According to the perspective, one could believe that the weather is noisy, that fatigue is thoughtful and heavy, that everything is fine, in the end, in this ocean of invisibility. — 2018/08/25

Without wings

It was very cold a week ago. It was a Sunday, I went shopping at the local grocery store. The sun, very present, could do nothing against the icy wind. There, on the sidewalk, these wings, probably an already weak bird that a cat will soon finish, taking only what could really satisfy its hunger. — 2017/01/22

The silent goddess

I must continue on the theme of light. After work last week, it was still too hot for autumn. People willingly walked barefoot in the park, young people, bare-chested and beautiful, juggling. I was too hot with my vest and windbreaker, as if from a season too far ahead of its time. — 2016/10/10

The cold, of course

The cold of course and the days that, like cheap cotton, shrink at the first sign of hardship. I love walking when the morning shines its fine light on us. I have my steps for myself, my solitary rhythm thus marking this adult life which has dug so few furrows. — 2016/09/29

Walking alone

I'm walking alone again. Portugal suddenly seems quite complicated, reality catches up with me and nods its head to see me finally accept the conclusions of all those little voices that have been whispering their words of gossip to me for a year. — 2016/05/01

The time of the present

Silence, sometimes, annoys me. By this, I mean death, this unbelievable nothingness, this step above the emptiness that the soul eventually makes. I am not afraid of death, I am afraid that I have not lived long enough, very naughty pretense, proud delirium, inability to relax in the face of danger. — 2013/08/11

Facebook and the epidermis

We like storms when they can't threaten comfort. Protected, we witness the energetic, even energizing rigors of the raging elements. We are happy, we feel pampered all the more so as a sense of security can only be vain and fleeting. — 2013/02/09

The city of solitudes

Barely twenty or thirty years ago, loneliness was still lived alone, among staggering hours, wandering among our furniture or in bars, between two drunkenness or drowned in silence. Human collisions occurred more rarely, at the whim of these accidents tinged with appointments, as if souls, like atoms more or less hooked, remained stuck in the winter of possibilities. — 2012/09/30

The man in the window

When I arrived in the neighborhood in 2008, I already noticed this man living above a convenience store. It is difficult to miss him because his window overlooks the exit of the subway. He seems to do only one thing, rocks himself while reading. I don't know him a television, because I don't see the entertainment gleams it would have produced in his apartment. A radio may be gutting its information or its nonsense. — 2012/02/22

We necessarily live alone

We necessarily live alone within the elastic walls of the apartments of the body and mind. There are indeed the ghosts of our ideas, the spirits of our memories, the films of our habits. — 2012/01/23

The blood of each road

The blood from each of the roads in this city looks like a nervous firefly procession. Fewer people than during the day, motorists and truck drivers run at higher speeds, with their feet on the accelerator, weighing like a flash dream. — 2011/12/20

We belong only to everyone and only to ourselves

I am, of course, alone in this world, my mind suggests to me every morning. When it wakes up, it analyses the state of the body, usually forgets to tell me about it, probably keeps the best of it to itself. When I swell my lungs, I only perceive my presence there, when I am hungry, it is for my only interest. — 2011/11/24

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