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staff - My emotional

" I spend most of my time to obscure because the light bothers me. "Boris Vian

I can not live without drama. I came to this conclusion.

Basically, I am nothing but a tortured soul, a spirit tormented, a broken heart. Happiness scares me. It frightens me. A quiet life, peaceful, serene, no wave ... that's what everybody calls 'happiness'. I call it 'the void'. I pessimistic? No. Just tortured. Already said.

Suffering is my essence, my alibi. It gives me consistency, legitimacy. It makes me feel alive. In happiness I get lost, forget it in happiness.

It is our view that gives color to things. I prefer seeing things gray. Not by lack of optimism or gloom, but to give them added richness. I'm optimistic. I have already proved. Life as it is reflected in my eyes is beautiful, but it's not why I see pink. And after all, what can it do? Pink, gray ... This is just a matter of taste, right?

And my gray shades of mine. I try to flee the tone on tone, too drape. I prefer gradients.

worry, my gray is not sad. It is sweet, melancholy. As the rain.

Rain ... So much more rich and deeply moving as the sun! Rarely, however, welcome ... I like to see win gently or brutally, thinly or heavily, or sneak over the long term. What's more soothing and inspiring to watch her; to listen and soak fall decor with our determination, to breathe the scent it gives off, as it differs from striking the ground or asphalt ... I do I never tire of this show so poetic. The rain gives life to all our senses. One can see, touch, smell, listen ... and let invade poetry and melancholy our whole being. No, rain is not sad. No more than my gray.

Sun, He arose in silence, preferably in a sky blue uniform and monotonous. He does not mix with us, we prefer to look down, static and silent.

course I like the caress its penetrating rays, heat and he generously distributes that warms our bodies shivering in the winter too now ... I close my eyes, blinded by the light that pierces me, as if trying to scan my gray background ...

But the sun, as pleasant as it is, m'anesthésie. It deprives me of my emotional deepest sources of inspiration of my most beautiful.

Rain and I are in agreement. A delicious and perfect harmony on a gray background. Probably because, on my life, it's raining rain ...

Melissa Hoffmann