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  • Writer's picturelifexploratrice


Updated: May 17, 2022


Apple planted at the foot

Of the erected tree, enchanted

I advance with small muffled steps

With a delirious air

To stop

And think:

"But what happened to me?".

-Taking control-

The next day

Everything seemed to be in vain

Until the idea came to me

To share my pain.

His eyebrows were furrowed

The look in his eyes

By the pain administered

By his own thoughts.

A pain so strong

That she named a fort

Above a non-existent surface

Putting soul and body there

While waiting for everything to evaporate.

Ephemeral universe

In the photosphere.

Dust of witch.

I walk the Earth

With my feet in the air

Like a panther

Calling his peers

According to a single criterion

That they air

Free as a bird.

-Eventful day-

Spirituality at the heart of the matter.

What is its use?

To stop, frozen, to think?

What is the point?

-In a world of ambition, I have to worry about my projects.

Like a lamp post I light up the passing air with my light.

A friend of garbage

My box of a thousand colors.

Until the compost


At the sight of the insects.

To finally remain without remains while waiting for its new hour.

Until then,

A little candor.

The furtive look

I see it, my other self,

Seizes it

With my fingertips

Holds it against me.

In excitement

I stay there.

I see myself living with full joy.

Cluster of cotton

On a blue sheet

Illuminating the sky.

Full power to my unconscious.

Flaccid face

Painful eyes.


Tight stomach,


Brain wrapped.


Yuck in the morning.

All day long

Locked in.


The night woke up.

I go to meet her.

With a shy look


By her own being

She lowered her head to appreciate

Her voluptuous body.

While the world suffered

Thinking that it is so

My heart

Persuaded of the contrary

Observes, bitter

His fellow creatures

Creators even

Of their universe.

Before sharing

They agree on the how

And finally,

They let go fully.

Quietude in its longitude

Tumult of a shaggy aspect.

The conscious tries

To deceive my senses.

I forget that tomorrow

I will die.

This blind faith

Prevents me from letting go.

I strive to control everything

When everything is under control.

-Biased thoughts-

Game : Marie is in the subway


In the corridors I am one with the crowd.

I am there and not there.

Something inside me

Urges me to activate it,

To release it, to spend it.

I try to communicate,

To guess

What brought it

To lodge itself

The bottom of my belly.


For me to pull the trigger.

Some demonize it

Others idealize it.

I remain undecided.

The intention being

To transform this energy

into life.

A friend of mine

Made me raise

The absence of light

Supposed to transcend the air.

It's hard to keep calm

When the time

Runs faster

Than the course of our thoughts.

We wonder if we can speed it up,

In our interior

Will improve our desperate situation

Or whether

We should detach ourselves from it

Since in any case

It goes away

In a panic.

To evacuate my fears

To express them

To loved ones

Allows me

To free myself.


With humans

Today and tomorrow

Hand in hand.


To say goodbye

To a libido

Almost non-existent

Comes back, surprisingly

To stimulate it.

Taking a step back requires all my patience.

Pass this test

And my self-esteem will thank me.

These symptoms are not unknown to me.

As if paralyzed by the same flow of thoughts

I try to distract myself

From this mental situation


My complicit stomach

Addresses me its whims.

I feel sorry for myself.

I would like to be serene and have unshakeable confidence

In myself and everything.

A constant retreat.


Mirage during a swim.

I sail among my feelings.

I learn to appreciate this moment of wandering.

I launch myself with apprehension and excitement

In my immense and small being.

Nothing and everything.


Entiendo que es, para tú, un momento difícil. Entre el calor, la música demasiado fuerte para tus oídos, las intensas vibraciones que trascienden tu cuerpo, las reuniones en los baños. Momento de soledad y compartir a la vez. No puedes evitar saltar, girar ... Headshot.

As I finished my day,

I found myself shedding tears.


All my attachments, my loves, the senses, the values I created for myself were only illusion.

Absurdity was clogging my mind.


I took my notebook and my canvas

In order to express the love so real, so appreciable, full and unconditional that I carried to the others and that I appreciated, myself, to receive.

The love of All is in each of us.

Since it is only one.

I was looking for it.

I found it.

I must now,

To tame it.


When the big scheme of things become you.

Then, everything seems possible.

You became the unexpected, the experience itself.

"I" do not exist anymore.

Fucking extraordinary uncertainty. -Lover Cat under cover

Zlap. Oh! my feet are on the ground while this same ground is in superposition with the Earth.

So I'm flying and at the same time not. Wooo crazy.

- The thesis of ground and not ground, fly and not fly was absolutely revolutionary when it was rediscovered. Mouth bae.

Everything changes.

Fear of change.

To die and to be born.

This is it.



Demystifies you:

Cloud in passage observed

Despite the unappreciated air.

When the sought-after answer

Was hiding behind the ego

Thinking that there are truths to be found

Far beyond my conscious mind.

To my rebirth,

Only consciousness

Made its entrance in all elegance

To live to live.

Blue, yellow, green


From the fog, she emerges.

Who am I?

I wish to take height.

To fly to the stars.

This week living in my body

Has been very strange.

Like a bad trip

I have been anxious, sad, desperate, cowering, tired.

My back has been broken down and tense.

My throat became irritated.

I let myself get carried away.

As if these states

were getting the better of me.

I had interactions that I was anything but comfortable with.

Calmness, serenity, and self-confidence were non-existent feelings.

What a powerful mind!

Yesterday I had a nightmare.

It expresses itself with grace.

Dashes around and dances.

I like to walk around a lot

In order to travel

My visual challenged

Sometimes used to it

At other times astonished as I wish

Observe the shapes and colors.

This is how I noted different ways,

More or less efficient,

Leading to satisfaction.

According to what they are,

Ecstasy comes from their application.

My thoughts unite with what I see and feel.

The moment is exhilarating

It's as if time is molded to my feelings.

It only takes a moment for all my perception

Invades my being

And gives birth to,

A deep feeling of well-being.

Most often this happens to me while looking at the stars, a tree, the clouds, the eyes of a caring Being, a kiss, a body against mine, embraced...

The list can go on forever,

I could then stop eating, stop shitting.

-I let you meditate on it.

Contained energy

In the immensity of my being.

The fresh air stimulates my senses,

I cross the yard,

With an intrigued step,

Looking for the beautiful all around me.

He opens the door for me,

A little athletic,

I follow him up the stairs.

We stop in front of a small door

Opening on the most delicious of places.

Breathing warmth and life.

I immerse myself in its interior.

Trying, as best I can,

not to make a stain among this pleasant picture.

Balancing my energy

To be one with the space and its souls.

To the melodious sound

My ear twitches

Sparkles with pleasure.

Well aware that I must also participate in this Creation,

Only my body wishes to express itself

Molding the air around it.

And thus become one of the characters of the painting.

Little by little, my mind says yes.

Tunes itself to the surrounding waves.

I must then take my courage in both hands

And decide to leave this place becoming mine.

Drifting, I wander in my being.

Guitar on his back,

Cat's cage as a travel bag

He met then,

The look of a homeless man.

Words were no longer necessary.

The heat exchanged.

Time frozen.

Fucking disrespect.

Everything is done to make sure that alcohol is adored

And money spent.

The human is no more.

Hope lost.

The anger increased.


Sense of incomprehension,

Of disconnect.


The differences in a semblance of unity.

No, no, no.

No, no, no. Shit.

New Year's Eve-

Hearts beating wildly,

A sadness, deep, beautiful and eternal

In front of this expanse.


The fear, the wind.

-I remain unmoved.

The longer I wait,

The more the feeling of fear, of uneasiness, grows in me.


Her hands paralyzed, she writes on her keyboard.

Where life begins,

Death makes its appearance.

She asks for nothing.

Only everything.

Our mind is upset by the multiplied questions

And can't help but be stubborn.


I turned my gaze

Towards what seemed to me to be,

An overheated machine

Or the creation of some fire.

It was, in fact,

A human, a soul,

Shooting like never before at his beloved,

Colpe Clope

Hidden by the mist then created,

I watch him with my mouth agape

Appearing behind the stream of smoke.

This one dissipating

As if nothing had happened.

Poisoned shell.

Symptoms-Reaching a point where the repression,

Thought so well buried,

Is exposed in full daylight.

Unpleasant sensation.

To believe that the cause is of external nature.

An energy so present

That it gives me a stomach ache.

My skin starts to tingle,

My shoulders contract like never before,

My back gives in.

The existence of an escape

Seems inconceivable.

Light where are you? Who am I? Why are you here?

All motivation is given to me.

To live, to enjoy without guilt,

To work hard

On these projects which for nine years have brought me nothing.


Free flowing,

Stagnation in maintenance.

Flashes here and there.

Mirror on the back

Reflection of another reality

Sprinkled with ???

Lightened in its summer dress



Solemn of her carnal body.

On the other side,


Cries of emotions,

Carried by the wind, the waves.

Will to feed this reality,

To handle it as one pleases,

Like a fairy and her powder

Going up in smoke.


Improvised cinema.

Sifted discussion.

Colored smoke.

All that I attach to

Desperately my love,

My energy.

All that I disclaim.

Sometimes seems so absurd

That I have no choice but to stay put and stay put.

Until I find a meaning to all this creation.

To die to live again,

To survive while waiting for death.

What is living when you are dead?

Palpable tension.



Strong discomfort with my environment.

-When I suffer from not knowing why.

The house is not. Or at least is not anymore.

The introvert dresses in his best suit.

I die inside-

I hurt.

I hurt in my being.

It is too much for my self.

My senses are torn, torn apart.

I need to let go of the pressure.

The overwork hurts me

I am in pursuit of a comfort bubble.

A cotton cocoon.

A place where I can rest my body and my mind.

A place of peace, trust, love and most of all safety, compassion and acceptance.

I would be fully myself.


These loves will expect nothing from me.

Please peace.

-Pain in the depths.

Belly goes inside,

Opens a den

Into which I enter.

The hand on it

I try to seize it with all my strength.


My conscious is convinced of the contrary.

Inexpressible, inexplicable.

He, I, we list all the reasons

justifying this imprisonment.

As if this act would change my whole life.

The control over myself evaporated.

I found myself empty and absorbed.

Fucking thoughts.


Counted in years,

10 years.

Easy to escape from it

I preferred not to question myself too much about it.

Yet I knew it.

It was a fear that gripped my gut like never before.

I thought it defined me

That it was my identity.

Until the day when I met it in a being, in a whole.

I then decided to confront it.

As gently and quietly as possible.

I thought of all my preoccupations so that all remained under my control.

Only at a moment when I started to let myself go

Panic came.

I ran to my beloved temple.

Suicidal thoughts came to me, depression appeared.

My body petrified.

The desire to die alone in my corner, far from the world.

The wish to forget everything.

Like a child wishing to erase,

With all his strength,

A moment of absolute shame.

Here, the shame was not.

Only this ultra powerful anguish.

So much so, that I am convinced of its reason for being.

Panic appears as soon as it seems to be ignored by the others.

It rises little by little at the sight of the confidence of the other.

As soon as my mind no longer perceives an ounce of hesitation or withdrawal

He starts to scream.

Terrified of being left out,

Terrified of facing the possibility that this fear is unjustified, unreasonable.

In an effort to keep a distance from my swarming emotions

I tend to develop

Fears, jealousies and addictions.

Colors my eye perceived.

They turned around and looked at me,

The smile on their lips,

The open arms of happiness,

Of warmth.

The place full of emotions.

With him beside me.

All concerns flew away like butterflies.

All my attention, focused on this interaction.

Riddle me this:

It is an object

It does not seem alive

Yet, it makes us alive

- music, vinyl

I don't want to hear your story

I have my own that I'd like to enjoy fully.

I'm scared,

I'm fucking afraid of losing myself in a being.

I'm fucking afraid of his frustration when I don't meet his expectations.

I'm afraid that my body, reflecting my anxiety, in part unchosen, will not be appreciable.

I'm too fucking scared.

I don't feel up to it.

There are things in me

That I won't admit to myself.

Impossible to see clearly in this neural set.

I stutter when I have to express it.

To express what?

Even I don't know.

Words come out of my mouth.

Words that sound wrong.

There are moments

When it is difficult to identify what I feel.

A melit, an internal confusion.

Frustration, anger, sadness, fear, incomprehension.

A feeling of simplicity and complexity at the same time.




The fears seized

Of my damaged mind.

The outside is no longer bearable.

My senses I would like

To shut down forever.

The devil has awakened

The security and goodness hidden.

Unable to link my thoughts, emotions.

The picture is only chaos.

The desire for any kind of stability is stronger than ever.

Even more, the desire to move without responding to shocks.

To adapt to them, to transform myself without it even being an effort in itself.

Like a drop of water slipping on a leaf to fall on a shoulder and melt into it.


Is this the cause of these torments?

Unconsciousness the answer to my feelings?

Sparkling river

My body is flowing

With this sweet light

It feeds me with life

And I say yes to it.

Beyond the mountains

We don't know what's going on there

Inside everything is life.

At the same time frozen and flowing.

Smell the odors.

Splendor of what IS.

Closer to what is not visible.

An inhabited reality.

Questions full of nose.

Who am I?

What I see, I am not.

What I feel, I am not.

What I hear, I am not.

What I think, I am not.

Who am I?

Neither the body, nor the senses, nor the thoughts - to the point of asking where "am I" hidden.

The outside and the inside is not me.

These two observations merge.

They form an inseparable whole.

Everything is.

That which is closest to the truth,

It is learning by unlearning, to live fully.

When life alone is embodied, everything is shaken up.

-Transcendence by being.

During the walks

The environment talks

The stones, the leaves, the trees...

All around energies circulate

They feed me,

So much so,

that I could stay there all day,

all night long...

It is with disappointment that I must return.


The sun greets the hairy mountains

A part thanks it for the cottony heat that it diffuses

The clouds accompany it in its journey,

The unreality sees its cycle perpetuate.

In this whole dream

Disguised with a body

With the outside.

The identification with its thoughts

As hilarious as any technology,



Tingling lights

White lights that go away and come back.

That hide and reveal.

The vegetation dances.

The landscape in trance.


- Marie Mazeau certified teacher. Guiding with gentleness, mindfulness and Joy in Paris and internationally online.


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