The little cafe

There is a big department store in the middle of the city. On the third floor there is a little cafe, where strange enough nobody comes. It's almost always empty. So this is where I come. It has dark wooden floors and furniture and even looks like a different country.
I'm sitting in a corner writing, reading, drinking a hot chocolate.

On the other side of the cafe is a slightly older man, he's drinking something, alone as well. He's looking at me, I can feel it. I look in a mirror on the side of a wall and in it our eyes meet. Mine teared up and his, just lonely. Maybe this is a place for lonely people. Or do we just search for empty cafes because we've become afraid of crowded places?

I'm supposed to be somewhere right now but I'm on the run again. I'm always trying to run away from things. Mostly from becoming insane. I wonder how it feels not having to run.... I look in the mirror again, he's still looking at me. He's leaving. He puts on a long dark brown trench coat and a dark brown hat. We give each other a mutual polite nod and he's gone.
I think that for a moment, just one second, we could feel each others pain. It overwhelmed me. I couldn't keep the tears from falling down my face.

Maybe I'm blessed enough because I realize that there are people in countries who have nothing in this world. I have my parents, my brother and a chance to educate myself. But am I really that selfish because my heart aches for a little bit more?


-Images: Via DeviantArt-

Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain

I have seen the movie that changes everything!
It's precious, sweet, exciting and inspirational. I am in love.

On September 3rd 1973, at 6:28pm and 32 seconds, a bluebottle fly capable of 14,670 wing beats a minute landed on Rue St Vincent, Montmartre. At the same moment, on a restaurant terrace nearby, the wind magically made two glasses dance unseen on a tablecloth. Meanwhile, in a 5th-floor flat, 28 Avenue Trudaine, Paris 9, returning from his best friend's funeral, Eugène Colère erased his name from his address book. At the same moment, a sperm with one X chromosome, belonging to Raphaël Poulain, made a dash for an egg in his wife Amandine. Nine months later, Amélie Poulain was born.

Amélie: It's better to help people than garden gnomes.

Amélie: [whispering in theater] I like to look for things no one else catches. I hate the way drivers never look at the road in old American movies.

Narrator: Amélie still seeks solitude. She amuses herself with silly questions about the world below, such as "How many people are having an orgasm right now?" [scenes of various orgasms taking place]
Amélie: Fifteen.

Narrator: For Bretodeau, that little box brought back a lot of memories -
Federico Bahamontes winning the '59 Tour de France, and of course, the
tragic day when he won all the marbles at playtime
Bretodeau, The Box Man: Life's funny. To a kid, time always drags.
Suddenly you're fifty. All that's left of your childhood... fits in a rusty little box.

Raymond Dufayel aka Glass Man: So, my little Amélie, you don't have bones of glass.
You can take life's knocks. If you let this chance pass, eventually, your heart will
become as dry and brittle as my skeleton. So, go get him, for Pete's sake!

The Newsstand Woman: A woman without love wilts like a flower without sun.


Amélie is looking for love, and perhaps for the meaning of life in general. We see her grow up in an original if slightly dysfunctional family. Now a waitress in central Paris, Monmartre, she interacts curiously with her neighbors and customers, as well as a mysterious Photomaton-image collector and one of his even more mysterious photo subjects. Little by little, Amélie realizes that the way to happiness (and yet more subtle humor) requires her to take her own initiative and reach out to others.

Innocent love

When I was 13 there was a boy in a higher class at my school. His name was Anthony. He was one of the few people that actually spoke to me. He made jokes and made me blush.

He was one of the popular kids, I wasn't. I knew them, we said hi, but I was never part of the group.

He worked at a store in the mall. Every Saturday I went with my parents to do some shopping for the week. Every Saturday we saw him working. He was so sweet, always made time to talk to my parents. They really liked him. So well mannered and all.

One time in school he said something to me in the hallway and I tried to act all cool and calm. Then he smiled and touched my cheek. That was the moment. The second his hands touched my face I loved him.

I was always way ahead of others my age with the way I thought about things, so I said to myself, you can't be in love, you're a child. What do you know about love? But every time he passed me by, talked to me, smiled at me or even if I saw him from a distance my heart started beating faster. I could feel my cheeks turning red. I just didn't know what to do with myself. When I saw him with other girls I cried on the inside, because no one could ever know the way I felt.

I wrote poems about him. About how I loved him, but he would never know. Eventually I left that school at 15. Too much drama there and in my life. Later on I heard he moved away to attend some university in the south of the country.

Then one day I was in the city shopping, just walking around by myself. I suddenly had this strange feeling. I looked around me, looked up and there he was, I saw him. He didn't see me, I hid myself. That was when I realised that I still loved him. I was no longer a 13 year old child. I never had a boyfriend because no one was him. I didn't want a boyfriend, because I thought about him everyday since I was 13 years old.

Today I'm a grown woman and no longer a child. I think I know what love is. But I have no words for it. I know it in my heart, because that's where I still carry him after all these years.


-Images: Some from DeviantArt, some I don't know-

Marie Antoinette - Garden scenes

Perfect simplicity


Love is...
..not about finding the perfect person.
Its about loving an imperfect person perfectly!