Very intimate diaries  17

I sprinkled my daily life with always alert and ready anti-personnel landmines to tear away an arm of the mind, a mental leg, at the slightest movement outside the concrete path of my life.

I walk every day in this cramped trail zigzagging between regrets, remorse and rejections dotted along this narrow cemented route. And I managed to scamper with a light step despite the heaviness of my feelings.

Moving forward, non-stop, I fear every footstep thinking it might be the last stride.

But bit by bit I learned to defuse most of these "anti-me " bombs. I manage to remove each of the pieces which make up them, each time I found love. Love of oneself.

Such a complex work to live simply.

Very intimate diaries  16

I am fasting energy to live. I gradually moved from a state of gluttony to a state of starvation. From a bulimia state of sufferings to an anorexia life state.

I was greedy; I’m learning to become gourmet.

I'm not on a diet; I’ve changed the way I nourish myself.

I’m learning to enjoy more slowly what Life offers me. Sometimes we make the menu together. And straight from my visceral garden.

This small piece of land I own, I'm the only one to know the way to reach there. My ground is so huge as my eyes can see infinity.

I learn day after day to plow, sow in this fertile land. It’s I alone who sows the seeds; those I found, those that were given to me and those I was offered.

I water my plowing with my inner well. And I need to fill it regularly with inspiration, imagination, creativity and ideas.

I always harvest the most eccentric fruits tastes, colors and shapes. They’re one and only. Some mature quickly, others remain green for long. When I harvest a fruit too early, it leaves me a metallic aftertaste that lasts a long time.

Season after season, fructifying this inner place that I inherited, I became a lonely market gardener.

But a more nature man.