There is a big debate about Happiness. Some think you’re happy because you achieved a life full of nice things and/or happy events. Some think happiness depends of the way of seeing things : the story of the bottle half empty, half full.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Lesson Nr. 15
Happiness : taking time to watch the beauty of the world
in François lelord's "Hector's journey"
Friday, August 22, 2008
Châteaux against Clos

Thursday, August 21, 2008
Lesson Nr. 14
Happiness : is it to be busy with other’s happiness ?
in François lelord's "Hector's journey"
in François lelord's "Hector's journey"
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Lesson Nr. 13
Happiness is to think of the happiness of the ones we love
in François lelord's "Hector's journey"
in François lelord's "Hector's journey"
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
Lesson Nr. 12
Is happiness only a chemical reaction in the brain ?
in François lelord's "Hector's journey"
Gone

Story of my life
And I've done it again . I meet a guy in the street. Simply as that. It's friday evening, I'm coming back home under heavy rain, on the bike, waiting at the red light to change into green and then I cross his eyes. A look, a second, a smile, I put the bike aside and start to talk to him. He's american, prefers to talk english with me, notices I'm not German, living here for the summer, nice looking, taking off his cap, where do I live, He's waiting for a date, I didn't ask for anything and then ... : what's my profile on internet. What's wrong with the picture ? Am I living in the 5th dimension ?
Yellow lounge

Thursday, August 14, 2008
Strandkorb

Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Lesson Nr. 11
Happiness is to feel ourselves completely alive
in François lelord's "Hector's journey"
Addicted
People who take drugs always tell you not to take any but can't help themselves to take some all the time. It depends what is your concept of drugs, of course. You would surely say, because I smoke and drink alcohol, I'm a drug addict too. We can talk about it. But last saturday evening, I became very upset in the disco we were having fun, because I've been asked so many times if I had any pills to sell that It made me at a point furious. I asked the last one to go downstairs and have a blow job for which he will get (hopefully) more pleasure. The thing is, talking about it, because after a while we had too, people are getting "high" very quickly but need more all the time because they are afraid of getting "down". They need to spend a big amount of money and that explains why they target some people who can afford them freely what they need. It is so scary to watch them hunting the pills. That's when I left, having enough because my mood was really "down". Before leaving completely, I noticed a guy I would never thought seeing there. It's a famous TV showman I used to watch the program on TV, when I had one. It feels always strange to meet a public person in reality. They belong to the screen and not to your footsteps. It's always surprising because, unless you're part of this world, you just don't know how to manage your reaction : watching the guy (because he is also very good looking), but will it take as a showman or a man with flesh and bones, ignore him (but you can't help yourself looking around his pace), trying to play it cool and miss the thing ? Until I decided, he was far away. So I did.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Lesson Nr. 10
Happiness is to be loved for what we are
in François lelord's "Hector's journey"
Friday, August 8, 2008
Coloured bedspread
Bright lights are going dim
I wanna hide again
The nights are caving in
On my Bright lights are going dim
I wanna hide again
The nights are caving in
On my Coloured bedspread
I wanna drift so far
To slip out of the crowd
It doesn’t matter how
On my Coloured bedspread
We’ll make the stars dissolve
Like sugar melting in my mouth
Some people come and go
But the won’t ever know
About the things we do
On my Coloured bedspread
I remember places I’ve been to
Remember things I never knew
Remember dreams that all came true
On my Coloured bedspread
We’ll make the stars collide
I touch the planets through your eyes
Ooh can you feel it
Tell me can you feel it
We’ll make the stars dissolve
Like sugar melting in my mouth
Beneath my Coloured bedspread
I wanna drift so far
To slip out of the crowd
It doesn’t matter how
On my Coloured bedspread
We’ll make the stars dissolve
Like sugar melting in my mouth
Some people come and go
But the won’t ever know
About the things we do
On my Coloured bedspread
I remember places I’ve been to
Remember things I never knew
Remember dreams that all came true
On my Coloured bedspread
We’ll make the stars collide
I touch the planets through your eyes
Ooh can you feel it
Tell me can you feel it
We’ll make the stars dissolve
Like sugar melting in my mouth
Beneath my Coloured bedspread
Sextoy

Sunday, August 3, 2008
The enigma of the Molene’s cadavers
Cholera epidemics are now far. A wreck ? “40 years ago, people who lived on the island would have declare the corps, they were used to it.” And most of all “we would have heard about it”. Say people of Quéménès. In the archipelago of Molène, everything goes fast. In winter, there is only a hundred people living there. Years ago, the island was inhabited. The Tassin’s family was there. An original family who decided to leave the continent and establish themselves on the island, like hermits. They started to rent in 1953 until they bought in 1960. They occupied it until 1973, remembers the daughter of the family. Her father is no more and her mother, aged 75, is nervous. “The investigation is suspicious but I trust my parents. We are a well-known family here. It must have had happened during the night, and my parents could not notice anything. Four bodies. Nobody move them so easily. You need to be at least two people. And they knew it well because everywhere is heavy earth and stones. Except here, It’s kind of sand dune. They must have known well the islands around.” Furthermore, the location is invisible from the continent, hidden by the Molène island. In the end of the 50’s, a not very far island from Quéménès, Trielen, was used as an educational centre. A bad memory, hardly told. “Private boarding schools for young people, minors or not, in need of physical and moral reeducation” says historian of the land. In reality a real convict prison hold by a priest of Saint-Brieuc, today deceased. Not really prepared to live on those islands, the young were quickly out of food. Some would have try to escape. Starved, they would have been rescued by the people of Molène who called authorities. The priest was judged in 1959 but released. It is said that nobody wanted to hear this story again. French minister of Justice was there on the island and said that investigation is open. There are no elements anymore but they will find ways to trace the cause of death and dating it. Police did not make any link with disappeared people from the neighbourhood. On the island of Quéménès, the wind and the sea already erased all traces of the discovery.
Kiki Blofeld

Saturday, August 2, 2008
Lesson Nr. 9
Happiness is to feel myself useful to other people
in François lelord's "Hector's journey"
Friday, August 1, 2008
The enigma of the Molene’s cadavers
Part one : Caché derrière
This story could have inspired Arthur Conan Doyle. An almost deserted island with violent sea streams and mortal reefs, 4 skeletons buried under the sand, of which we ignore the origin, a private boarding school handled by a priest and closed for bad treatments, a local population with a hard life and incredible stories to tell. A mystery. The story starts in March. A storm of a rare violence is on the costs of Brittany. In the archipelago of Molène, the water is infiltrated everywhere, enters homes, root up rock blocks of many tons, threaten the boats. "The storm", reports secretary of the townhouse, "It's been 20 to 30 years that It wasn’t that strong". On one of the islands of the neighbourhood, Quémérès, the sand dune is going back, devoured by waves, and humans rests are discovered. This island, one kilometer and a half long, was time to time inhabited. Some fields protected from the salted wind with stonewalls, seaweeds to produce saltwort and nourish the stoned soil, allowed families to survive on this rock. Since 2003, this land belongs to the conservatory for the littoral. A couple is renting the place, sowing bio products and runs a bed&breakfast (full booked until 2009) for city guys who want to play the Robinson Crusoe.“It’s me who found them. South east of the island. A human skull and a pelvis. I called the police”, says the guy living there. Nothing exceptional for the region. “We found a lot of bodies in Molène” remembers a previous inhabitant. “When there was cholera epidemics, in the end of the XIXth century, we buried the cadavers”. Besides, the wreck is common around here. « It’s violent, here » says the son. If you go to the local cemetery, It confirms, people saying those words, are right. But this is not it. Exhumed, sent for dating to the criminal research institute of the national police, the results, back in public last Thursday, deny all suppositions. The cadavers were there buried 37 years ago, with a mistake possibility of more or less 5 years. Between 1966 and 1976. There is also prescription. Three men, one woman. Young, between 20 and 25 years old. Buried under one meter of sand. No trace of apparent violence. No clothes fibers (they were naked). Faces facing the sea, legs crossed.
The game
Women look at me when I'm looking men who are looking at...
It's a never ending story.
It's Friday evening.
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