The glory of the living
A page from davidnoir.fr
Aiming for Existence
In search of a life less ordinary than life.
Self-portrait in ruins form
I'm testifying from where I am. As a good archaeologist, I create my own ruin. The loneliness of the fields of childhood is not the same as the loneliness of the fields of adulthood.
Where's Charlie? or cheap solidarity
Solidarity is not the display of single-mindedness. I will not be shouted any slogan that is not mine. Not Charlie tonight, not any other day.
Ah the indignation! ... worship... punish... worship... punish...
How long will the indignation in its flamboyant expression last, when people start obeying and denying their identity again the very next day?
"Freedom of expression" and repugnance
No, there is no such thing as "freedom of expression", just as there are limits on freedom, it's called the law ...
Athée et humain, sans faire des histoires
I'm not going to tell you what it says, because I hope it doesn't tell you anything, nothing that's being said anyway. No stories.
Air in the lungs and wind in the sails...
Enough to bivouac after the attacks and to take the air on a motorway area where you can park to enjoy the clear sky.
Infirmity of puppets
In a society of puppets, it is natural to become puppets. It remains to be able to endow them with singular bodies and adequate heads.
You're not my face-trp-post-container>
A little brutality in this world of poetry. No kidding. You don't really think I want to meet humans, do you? You're not my face. You're not my project.
A platonic humour from our lands
Beyond the atrocious and useless deaths, the greatest victim of the ravages of the present era is a sense of humour.
The small business of kindness
Fear is now more fear than fear. It dissolves on the surface and is reborn in a little fart of shared benevolence...
Post attacks
One morning in November, I was awakened by a feeling of sadness in my rectum. And that was the beauty of the world. And it was the stupidity of the world. Both merged into one vivid, palpable tension. Something forbade itself to come out.
