From time to time we connect to someone, deeply. There are no lies with sensitivity. Only words unspoken. Mirroring each other. Our flaws, our insecurities, our fears ,our past, our strengh but more importantly, our beauty. It can be overwhelming to see our reflection in the eyes of the other person. Especially when it is raw, pure and truthful. Either we become vulnerable and surrender to it all. Or comes the push and pull. The run and the chase. No one has ever pushed me to know myself as much as this woman. And for this I will always be grateful.
When you feel unwanted there is learning to do. Until you find yourself. And then there is more learning to do.
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Il arrive que nous fassions une rencontre qui nous marque profondément. Il n’y a pas de mensonges avec la sensibilité. Que des non-dits. Chacun reflète l’autre comme un miroir, Nos défauts, nos insécurités, nos peurs, notre passé, notre force, mais le plus important, notre beauté. Ca peux être déroutant de voir son propre reflet dans les yeux de l’autre. Surtout quand c’est brut, pur et fait de vérité. Soit on devient vulnérable et on s’abandonne à toute chose. Ou c’est la course poursuite. Personne ne m’a poussé à me connaitre autant que cette femme. Et pour cela je serai toujours reconnaissant.
Réflexion après chanson : quand on ne veut pas de toi, il y a de l’apprentissage à faire. Jusqu’à ce que tu te trouves. Et ensuite, il y a encore de l’apprentissage à faire.
Victoria
Victoria
You’re a martyr, you’re a saint
A goddess that never surrenders
You’re an angel you’re quaint
And I’ve seen your true colours your true colours
You’re the muse and the abuser
With your claws down my spine
You’re the prey and the admirer
But you were never mine you were never mine
Victoria, Victoria, Victoria, Victoria
You’re enlightened but never repent
A materialistic gypsy
If you knew how many hours I spent
Elated by your beauty, elated by your beauty
But it kept luring me into the dark
Until my soul lost all its spark
So I lay down in my coffin
And leave my sacred love there rotting, my sacred love rotting
Victoria, Victoria, Victoria, Victoria
There’s no victory with love
I’m still haunted by the love I had for you
There’s no victory with love
I fought a battle on my own for you
Texte/Illustration : Thomas Hayward
Les Cosaques des Frontières 