Wednesday, October 24.

- I have not slept last night, I could not (or so little), I was haunted by her being so so far away, out of reach. Out of my league, some would say.

I keep saying I am not delusional, because contrary to SDN, I don't think she will ever have affection for me. As if it was enough. I am delusional. I know she will never exist in my life, and yet, seeing how I feel lost each time I experience it in a new way, I deny it. She is always there, in my mind. Not really her, but who cares. Her ghost, at all times, with me, talking to me, caring about me. My rational self knows she will never care, but my inner self, my subjectivity can invent this parallel life in which she does, and my hope can grow there. It's not exactly real, but it is not inexistant. I am delusional.
 (See you are no better than SDN)

- She will be somewhere, I know where, in two days. People will listen to her. Not me, and I can't find spies. I have thought of paying a private detective, but then I thought that maybe it was open only to students.

-I lied to a friend. There is this video, I found yesterday. The one with the cigarette. I needed to know whether it was her hand holding the cigarette and the pictures I have are not enough for me to be able to recognize her hands, because I am not food at this + the video is not very good. I would have said it was men's hands. But I know her hands are not "beautiful", I've often found her fingers too short to fit in the canon of feminine hands. But the nails looked similar. And maybe the way it held the pen too. So I lied to a friend, I simply lied, because I kne she would refused if I asked the real question. And she told me it was a man's hand. I hope so. Even if I am still unsure.

- about the past, when I had met her about the Future, twice. I re-read what I had written. The first time she was wearing one of her dresses, and I could not focus on anything but her legs. I am silly. I feel like a 14-yo boy/teenager. That's why I was relieved that she was wearing blue jeans the second time.

If she smokes, I am hurt.

Because I fear for her. Because she is like M. and is the same hurt all over again.

Because it make her his. She already his, but even more. He has corrupted her. Maybe not.

Tuesday, October 23.

Hello darkness my old friend.

I fell down. I'm underground. I am down. I am lower than down.

I found a video of her and her son, the youngest one, as a baby. Actually I only guess it's her. It's like suddenly falling, being remembered how much I don't exist and cannot exist, and have no place anywhere. And there is no way to stop this feeling.

This is what social life is telling me: you are not good enough.

It hurts like hell.

Monday, 20th August 2012.

Weird. I saw a woman wearing a blue dress at Intermarché. I could only see her back, lots of her back and shoulders. And it was weird because it made me think of Her3. Probably because of her hair, but what I felt was that it was because of the naked shoulders and back. Which it weird, since I had noticed earlier that I had never seen them, that she never showed them.
But it probably also was because of the skin colour. And what was impressive was that she did look like her, a little less beautiful, younger.

So I stalked her for the rest of my shopping.

Friday, July 13rd. 2012.

12:46.

She leaves. Blue jeans, white shirt, black coat. I think I won't have time to take a picture, so I don't move. And then, she turns back and look back, and I could have taken a picture, and I haven't and I missed it.

Now, the big question is: will she come back (in which case I must not go and buy food. Or not. Or I can just wait until 2pm. Yes. I am not hungry.)

Monday, July 9th. 2012.

She didn't come.

I can't be helped. Because I want her to help me (with the cuts for example), she's the one I am calling for, I am cutting for her to help me. But at the same time, she is the one whose help I cannot ask, because she would see me as wrong, flawed, and that's the thing I refuse.

I need her and ask her to be my supervisor but need to go away so I can survive. Paradoxes of madness.

Thursday, July 5th. 2012.

I'm home, I mean not Paris, since I have to go to the dentist.

So, not her.

I am tourmented by the idea that maybe I should have taken the pictures with the other camera, because now I can't reproduce it, and I fear I lose it. A lot.

I slept with her book in my bed, like a doudou, because I felt empty and afraid. I miss her, a lot, while I saw her yesterday) (but it is the idea that I won't see her again which frightens me.)

Wednesday, July 4th. 2012.

I can't stay in the observatory.

I find another one.

9:48. She arrives, small brown bag, blue jeans (thank God) and light blue shirt (thank god again).

Now I need to decide on the pictures. 

Tuesday. July, 3rd. 2012. 

Haven't seen her.

Monday, July 1st. 2012.

9:22. She arrives, I almost miss her( I knew I would, I am angry at myself, so angry). She has a cup of coffee and the purple dress (so maybe it's a good thing we don't meet today, I would not have been able to think straight.)

I don't take pictures and I don't go to say hi (I hesitate), there is a hole in my soul. 

12:17. I am in my SuperNice Supervisor's office, however I hear footsteps and manage to check : it's her, going down (white shirt, and holding papers).