Une cause perdue.

He had told me on the previous day he would give me his own setlist in Blackpool, but I wouldn't believe him. It wouldn't have been the first time Freddie Cowan forgets something he said. He promised, pretended to spit in his palm, held me out his hand. "I won't forget Laurie, I swear". I was still a bit sceptical, but nodded anyway, shaking his hand.

He kept his word. But I didn't expect it to happen that way.

I thought that if by any chance he remembered, he'd give me his setlist a couple of hours after the show, when I'd be waiting for him outside the venue.
But he didn't.

It happened right after Norgaard, the last song of the set, as ever. He put his guitar away onto the floor, and was about to leave the stage, when he suddenly remembered. He crossed my eyes, communicating without saying a word, and then he tore his setlist from the floor, and got down the stage, landing right in front of me. A wave of hysteria seized the crowd around me, and I felt instantly a dozen bodies pressing against mine, crushing my chest against the barrier. Freddie paused for a while, gazing at the many pair of arms stretching towards him, in a desperate attempt to reach him. He then rolled the setlist into a ball, to make sure nobody else could grab it, and took my hand, thrusted the precious piece of paper into my palm.

"See Laurie, I told you!"

Bridlington

That look in Sam's eyes.

The ones who made me love Spain.

Madrid, March 16th & 17th, 2011.


White Lies. Transfer. Crocodiles.
Axelle, Cristina, Johanna, Kelsey, Marta, Paula, Ricardo, Veronica.

For goodness sake, let us be young.

In less than a month, on April 11th, I’m turning 24 years old, and I’m freaking out. I’ve never accepted the idea of growing up, but this year, I have to. For the first time of of my life, I’ll have to make some sacrifices, and build myself a solid life. I just cannot be an “adulescent” any longer. Anyway, for my birthday, I do not wish any gifts. All I want if for someone to have the idea of playing me Wetsuit song. Posting it on my facebook wall, playing it on the phone or my answering machine, flooding my social networks with the lyrics, or even singing it to me for a few seconds, even awfully sung; whatever. I just need to be reminded, not matter how old I am, to put a wetsuit on.

We'll give it just another couple of months or so, Then you'll be ok.

Soigner le mal par le mal.

Have a cuppa.

Yep, Implicite, that's the word. Let's go for this picture game.

Source: http://implicite.tumblr.com