Today, I considered running away. Run away, yeah, leave, just leave. With no worry about coming back. It's odd to get to that. I didn't do it. Because everyone does it. Everyone. For a yes, for a no, everybody clears off, everybody hops off, everybody runs away. It's an epidemic. Or a fashion. Hence, I decided to flee while remaining here. As long as I can, I will shun people, I will shun responsibilities, I will shun my dreams, I will shun my fears, I will shun. Except that everybody does also do it, then what does it remains to me?
It's idiot because “I will flee” seems a little like “monologue for a tap”. (in French we use the same word: 'fuir' for 'flee/run away' and 'leak').
My sister tells me I'm too stupid. She says that this is precisely my problem. She says that intelligent people always find the solution to their problems. It really suits my sister to say that. My sister thinks that Uganda is a monkey.
Talking about monkeys, today our science teacher told us about Darwin and the theory of evolution. Certainly in order to prove us that man descends from monkey, our teacher displayed his macaque head. During the break, I looked at people around me: girls all have g-strings sticking up from their trousers and boys have slinky boxer-shorts with elastic belts branded Calvin Klein or Tommy Hilfiger. It's hard for me to replace this in the theory of the evolution. Except that they all really look like animals rubbing up like that and whitewashing each other face with their tongue. The guys, in the playground, I have to concede, look a bit like the poodle of the Goimain mother. Each time a small bitch in heat is in the area, the small and very ugly poodle of the Goimain mother tries to go up on him but it slips and jabs its willy on the asphalt of the sidewalk. Looks like it just wants to rub a little.
Just now I sat down on a bench and I looked at the “French Kiss wall”. It's the wall against which everyone lines up to go lick the tonsils of his belle. I saw some who started aspiring each other's tongue at the beginning of the break and who came unstuck only with the bell. They seemed extremely proud when they stopped. I did find that rather ridiculous. That being so, I would have loved being in their shoes.
During the afternoon break, there is this so beautiful girl who came to me. She said “my friend Clothilde asks whether you want to date her.” These two girls are together all the time. They are so pretty that they look like models of the magazines. I answered smiling stupidly as if it were a joke so she left. Actually I believe I will never know if it was a joke. I would have liked so much to answer yes. Why I am so stupid? I'm so scared not to know how to kiss her. Not to know what to do. Do girls await us to touch their tits or? I don't know. I just smiled stupidly. She had this small laughter, and she kept it on her face while making a U-turn, she kept it until she met Clothilde who was sitting under a tree. This made me want to run away.
People say that a runaway is an emergency call. People say that suicide is an emergency call. I do say that it's odd anyway because it seemed to me that people call for help when they are in danger, when they are afraid to die. When somebody is drowning for example he asks for help, because he is afraid to die. I believe that somebody who commits suicide or who runs away is not afraid to die, I believe that it's rather living that scares him. Well, I say that, I am not a specialist. I have never run away, I never committed suicide. Up to now.
Besides I believe that I will never commit suicide, I am too much a player for that. It's true, others always blame me for taking things much too seriously when we play a thing, when we play a game and that I grumble a little because So-and-So does not comply with the rules. I can't help it, I am like this. I find that the game rules if you do not respect them then it's as if the game didn't exist.
I don't know if what I say is very clear. But it's just to say that I am too much of a player to commit suicide. Perhaps this is precisely the problem of young people who commit suicide, it's that nobody told them it's just a game.
I do want to play 'til the end. Even if at the end I lose.
C'est le jeu, translated by Valentina. Every correction, improvement, proofreading or subtleties are more than welcome. That's what the comments are for…If you're bilingual, a translator, an English teacher or simply very gifted in English, and if you wish to participate more actively to the translation of my texts, you can contact me by email (in French please!)