The Power of Grey



When did I become so obsessed with time?  With nonchalant things that normally have no meaning?

Am I at a point that I let my body speak instead of me, unclaiming responsability for what I have choosen by pushing the mute button when asked to say, to speak…

Am I so weak, as I think and assume that I am…Little girl…stop hiding under the bushes, and come out:

-Knock, knock?

-Who’s there?

-It’s Gen.

Did I trap myself into a character, which has overcomed me?

Probably yes, and I hate to say it, to use that word, since I am still into hiding trying to break free.

I am more than a list of choices, a list of names, a crowd I have gathered around, to which I liked to reach out in the past.  I am not defined by the choices I made in the past, neither the errors or actions, but surely I will be by what I will have made of all of them, what I will have extruded from it all, and applied in the future, the present.

I have come to realize that I am my only guide, my only critict, my only guideline to follow, even when bathing in insecurities.

Remember little girl……what you used to dream of, what you used to aspire to be, before life left its marks on you and teach yourself to fight instead of bending down, and die a little each day.  This is what is is made for: to teach, to learn and surely to live to the fullest.

Think about what you have becomed, the path you have followed and the mechanism that have pushed and sculpted you.

Not all is bad, and in every black closed corner, there is a grey spot.

Pssst!  Tout va bien, c’est juste une petite réflexion qui semble noire, mais qui ne l’est point….Elle est grise:P


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