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Le prix du refus https://soundcloud.com/jlgaillard/le-prix-du-refus Dialogue entre deux étudiants : — Si tu savais combien je suis heureux depuis que j’appartiens au Seigneur ! — Oui, je le vois bien et je voudrais être comme toi ; mais je suis arrêté par la pensée de tout ce qu’il me faudrait laisser pour me convertir. Il en coûte de se donner à Dieu ! — C’est vrai ce que tu dis. Mais, j’ai deux choses à te répondre : d’abord que le Seigneur n’est jamais notre débiteur. Selon sa promesse, il donne le centuple de ce qu’on peut abandonner pour Lui. Ensuite, considère ce qu’il en coûte de rester loin de Lui. Fais le compte, et n’attends pas pour te décider. On raconte qu’un vaisseau, « The Royal Charter », a coulé le 26 octobre 1859 avec 450 personnes à bord. C’était une nuit d’affreuse tempête. Le capitaine avait envoyé des signaux de détresse. Un transport de troupes était en vue. — Pour quel prix nous remorquerez-vous ? demanda le capitaine. Nous avons une voie d’eau. Le transporteur répondit par un prix, mais le capitaine refusa en disant : — Je courrai ma chance. Moins de deux heures après, c’était l’épouvantable tragédie, en vue même de la côte. Ne soyez pas aussi fou que le capitaine du Royal Charter, et si Jésus vous demande, de devenir votre pilote, de lui abandonner votre vie acceptez sans hésiter. Je vous le dis en vérité, il n’est personne qui, ayant quitté, à cause de la Bonne Nouvelle, sa maison, ou ses frères, ou ses sœurs, ou sa mère, ou son père, ou ses enfants, ou ses terres, ne reçoive au centuple dans ce siècle-ci […] la vie éternelle, Marc 10 : 29-30. #étudiant #refus #prix #bateau #capitaine #remorqueur #chance #fou #jésus #pilote #abandonner #accepter #hésiter #père #enfant #terre #centuple #vie #éternité https://www.instagram.com/p/CkIDjzVjZwL/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

SAMUEL BECKETT 13.4.1906 - 22.12.1989 “I'm all these words, all these strangers, this dust of words, with no ground for their settling, no sky for their dispersing, coming together to say, fleeing one another to say, that I am they, all of them, those that merge, those that part, those that never meet, and nothing else, yes, something else, that I'm something quite different, a quite different thing, a wordless thing in an empty place, a hard shut dry cold black place, where nothing stirs, nothing speaks, and that I listen, and that I seek, like a caged beast born of caged beasts born of caged beasts born of caged beasts born in a cage and dead in a cage, born and then dead, born in a cage and then dead in a cage, in a word like a beast, in one of their words, like such a beast, and that I seek, like such a beast, with my little strength, such a beast, with nothing of its species left but fear and fury, no, the fury is past, nothing but fear, nothing of all its due but fear centupled, fear of its shadow, no, blind from birth, of sound then, if you like, we'll have that, one must have something, it's a pity, but there it is, fear of sound, fear of sounds, the sounds of beasts, the sounds of men, sounds in the daytime and sounds at night, that's enough, fear of sounds all sounds, more or less, more or less fear, all sounds, there's only one, continuous, day and night, what is it, it's steps coming and going, it's voices speaking for a moment, it's bodies groping their way, it's the air, it's things, it's the air among the things, that's enough, that I seek, like it, no, not like it, like me, in my own way, what am I saying, after my fashion, that I seek, what do I seek now, what it is, it must be that, it can only be that, what it is, what it can be, what what can be, what I seek, no, what I hear, I hear them, now it comes back to me, they say I seek what it is I hear, I hear them, now it comes back to me, what it can possibly be, and where it can possibly come from, since all is silent here, and the walls thick, and how I manage, without feeling an ear on me, or a head, or a body, or a soul, how I manage, to do what, how I manage, it's not clear, dear dear, you say it's not clear, something is wanting to make it clear, I'll seek, what is wanting, to make everything clear, I'm always seeking something, it's tiring in the end, and it's only the beginning.”

Printemps 1906 - Champs-les-Sims

11/19

Leurs escapades les ont souvent conduits seuls dans des lieux isolés. Ainsi, Grand-Mère et moi nous sentions bien solitaires seuls à l'hôtel. La chaleur y est certes moins étouffante qu'au sud, mais le tumulte urbain de la ville échauffe l'atmosphère au centuple, comme c'est également le cas à Paris. Avec le recul, j'imagine que les tombes et les massifs monuments de pierre leur ont apporté bien plus de chaleur qu'à nous devant les ventilateurs.

Transcription :

Constantin : Etrange cavité. Les décors sont inachevés et en comme assez primaires pour une tombe digne de ce nom.

Albertine : Un cénotaphe peut-être.

Constantin : Sans doute, il n'y a qu'un moyen pour en avoir le coeur net.

Albertine : Mais qu'est-ce que tu fais ?

Constantin : Je vérifie la présence d'un éventuel cadavre afin de mettre ton hypothèse à l'épreuve.

Albertine : Allons bon, maintenant que nous y sommes. En tous cas, je ne sens aucune odeur de chair morte.

Constantin : Dieu qu'il fait sombre, je n'y vois rien.

Constantin : Ah, ainsi c'est mieux. Je ne vois rien en tous cas.

Albertine : Fais attention.

Constantin : Ce n'est qu'un sarcophage vide. Que veux-tu qu'il m'arriv... aaaah !

Albertine : Tu vas bien ?

Albertine : Je te l'avais dit.

Constantin : Ce n'est rien, j'ai glissé et je me suis cogné contre les parois.

Albertine : Nous devrions rentrer à l'hôtel. On demandera à un médecin de te voir là-bas, je préfère être sur que tout va bien.

Constantin : Je n'ai pas envie de rentrer maintenant. Nous sommes seuls dans un cénotaphe isolé sans personne pour nous entendre. L'hôtel est si rempli de gens qui nous écoutent. J'ai envie de remplir mon devoir conjugal ici, c'est plus intime.

Albertine : Ce n'est pas très confortable.

Constantin : Les archéologues n'ont que faire du confort.

Albertine : Bon, si tu y tiens.

Dévore-moi, mais entièrement Prendre ma bouche mais aussi l'âme Qui bat, vibre, jusqu'à mon sang Qui n'appelle de toi que l'antique drame D'une communion pour un seul Tant

Embrasse-moi sans m'éteindre Et je te le rendrai au centuple Va plus loin, sache étreindre L'invisible à même la pulpe

Prends ma bouche et tous ses maux Et nous en ferons la plus belle fête Lorsque de nous, flambant flambeau, Naîtra tout ce que corps souhaite...

MzP

Okie dokie I have played chapter one of Cool Kid Cody

Thoughts:

*very cool! I really like the artstyle and just whole vibe of the game. The color coding and how it's being used and messed with just in this chapter is real neat! *uh. you guys good? why can't you show genuine emotion.

*well I'm glad Ms. Sugoi isn't dead permanently. I still think it's really funny that she's named that. She's not even a japanese teacher she teaches slanguage.

*all the background jokes and bits you can get if you poke around are great. They're entertaining and build an idea of this world.

*the joke about "This is Stick Bridge, named after the river, named after our founder, who was named after a stick" got me way more than it should have

*I went back and replayed, looking at alternate options, and I got the rare and mischevious centuple kickflip

Negatives:

*can hurt my eyes a bit

*next chapter isn't free :(

*???

In conclusion great game. Glad I checked it out. I'm thinking about animating a small thing but that means I have to remember how to draw humans so we'll see.

Puoi chiamare debole un popolo che geme sotto il giogo di un tiranno se infine, fremendo, spezza le sue catene? Un uomo che nel terrore di vedere la sua casa in preda alle fiamme sente le sue forze centuplicate, e solleva facilmente dei pesi che a mente calma potrebbe appena muovere? E uno che nel calore dell'offesa ne affronta sei, e li vince, tu lo chiami debole? E, mio caro, se lo SFORZO costituisce la forza, perché lo sforzo supremo dovrebbe essere il contrario?". Alberto mi guardò e disse: "Non te ne avere a male, ma gli esempi che tu porti non hanno nulla a vedere col nostro discorso" "Può darsi, risposi, già più volte mi hanno detto che il mio modo di ragionare è spesso privo di logica. Vediamo se possiamo in altro modo figurarci quale coraggio deve avere un uomo che si decide a gettare il fardello della vita, che è generalmente gradito. Perché solo in quanto noi sentiamo una cosa, possiamo parlarne con giusto criterio. La natura umana, continuai dunque, ha i suoi limiti: essa può sopportare la gioia, la sofferenza, il dolore fino a un certo punto, e soccombe se questo è oltrepassato. Non è questione di stabilire se un uomo è debole o forte, ma di vedere se egli può sopportare la sofferenza che gli è imposta, sia morale che fisica; e a me pare tanto strano dire che un uomo è vile perché si toglie la vita, come troverei assurdo dire che è tale perché muore di febbre maligna". "Che paradosso!" esclamò Alberto. "Non tanto quanto tu pensi, ribattei. Ammetterai che noi chiamiamo mortale una malattia la quale assale la nostra costituzione naturale in modo che le sue forze sono in parte distrutte e in parte sminuite nella loro attività: sicché essa non può in alcun modo aiutarci né riattivare, per mezzo di alcuna risoluzione, il corso della vita. Ebbene, amico mio, applichiamo questo allo spirito. Vedi quante impressioni agiscono sull'uomo nella sua limitata sfera, quante idee penetrano in lui, finché una crescente passione non gli toglie ogni serena forza di pensiero e lo trascina alla sua perdita. Invano l'uomo libero da ogni cura e in possesso della sua ragione lo guarda con pietà, invano cerca di convincerlo con la persuasione. è come un uomo sano che pur stando al letto di un infermo non può infondergli la minima parte delle sue forze"

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, I dolori del giovane Werther

Day 42

I really like the idea that all the kaurava brothers look a lot like each other...so its like...the kaurava centuples

Scar & Mufasa, Reverse AU (with good!Scar and evil!Mufasa >8P)

Tapi dans les ombres protectrices d’un creux taillé dans le Rocher des Lions, Scar contemplait la présentation de son neveu Simba au royaume avec la désagréable angoisse de jouer un jeu dangereux : en effet, il n’était pas présent à la droite de l’heureux père en ce moment et il savait pertinemment que son aîné lui ferait payer cet affront au centuple une fois la cérémonie achevée, car nul doute que son absence serait remarquée de tous.

De nombreuses fois, il s’était demandé pourquoi son frère continuait de lui laisser la vie sauve malgré leur relation houleuse ; Mufasa n’était réputé ni pour sa clémence ni pour sa générosité et Scar était douloureusement conscient d’avoir abusé plus d’une fois de la patience du tyran… nombreux étaient les malchanceux qui avaient perdu la vie sous les griffes du souverain simplement pour avoir osé se trouver sur son chemin ou respiré dans sa direction.

La naissance de Simba mettait fin à l’immunité de Scar, cependant, et ce dernier n’était pas dupe : la lignée de son frère ainsi sauvegardée, Mufasa n’aurait plus aucun scrupule à éliminer son frère et rival devenu gênant…

Give me 1 pairing + 1 AU and I'll write a 3 sentences fic.

La finition corporelle, je la vénère au féminin. Jeanne-Sophie l’avait, et comme au centuple, cette finition qui me terrassait sans façon. Elle était habillée d’une robe du soir qui accentuait la forme en obus de ses seins. Ils représentaient à mes yeux les mangues de Pâques de mon enfance, ces mangues qui nous venaient du Nigeria. (…) Leur couleur chair – un camaïeu blond qui tirait sur du blanc – les rendait désirables. (...) Ceux de Jeanne-Sophie me faisaient bander en continu.

Nimrod - Un balcon sur l’algérois

[Philo Thoughts]

* * * * *

I'm all these words, all these strangers, this dust of words, with no ground for their settling, no sky for their dispersing, coming together to say, fleeing one another to say, that I am they, all of them, those that merge, those that part, those that never meet, and nothing else, yes, something else, that I'm something quite different, a quite different thing, a wordless thing in an empty place, a hard shut dry cold black place, where nothing stirs, nothing speaks, and that I listen, and that I seek, like a caged beast born of caged beasts born of caged beasts born of caged beasts born in a cage and dead in a cage, born and then dead, born in a cage and then dead in a cage, in a word like a beast, in one of their words, like such a beast, and that I seek, like such a beast, with my little strength, such a beast, with nothing of its species left but fear and fury, no, the fury is past, nothing but fear, nothing of all its due but fear centupled, fear of its shadow, no, blind from birth, of sound then, if you like, we'll have that, one must have something, it's a pity, but there it is, fear of sound, fear of sounds, the sounds of beasts, the sounds of men, sounds in the daytime and sounds at night, that's enough, fear of sounds all sounds, more or less, more or less fear, all sounds, there's only one, continuous, day and night, what is it, it's steps coming and going, it's voices speaking for a moment, it's bodies groping their way, it's the air, it's things, it's the air among the things, that's enough, that I seek, like it, no, not like it, like me, in my own way, what am I saying, after my fashion, that I seek, what do I seek now, what it is, it must be that, it can only be that, what it is, what it can be, what what can be, what I seek, no, what I hear, I hear them, now it comes back to me, they say I seek what it is I hear, I hear them, now it comes back to me, what it can possibly be, and where it can possibly come from, since all is silent here, and the walls thick, and how I manage, without feeling an ear on me, or a head, or a body, or a soul, how I manage, to do what, how I manage, it's not clear, dear dear, you say it's not clear, something is wanting to make it clear, I'll seek, what is wanting, to make everything clear, I'm always seeking something, it's tiring in the end, and it's only the beginning. 

~Samuel Beckett (Book: The Unnamable)

Tribune : parce que le harcèlement ne s'arrête pas avec les actes

Je tremble comme si j'avais 40 de fièvre. Mes jambes bougent toutes seules et mes yeux sont rouges. Inutile que je cherche à tout masquer ce matin par du maquillage, je l'ai déjà fait ça. Derrière des sourires, des " ça, c'était avant". Je me rends compte maintenant que je me suis menti pendant 15 ans. Même terminé, meme à des années lumière, le harcèlement scolaire est resté en moi et je n'en suis pas libérée. J'ai tout pris pour argent comptant à l'époque, j'y ai presque crû et j'ai bâti les fondations de ma vie sur du branlant. Sur cette image hautement dévalorisante que les autres m'ont renvoyée de moi-même : inutile et fragile.

Le nez qui coule et les yeux aussi, encore plus. D'une abondance rare après un cauchemar. Parce qu'après tout, les cauchemars ne sont que des constructions de l'esprit, des pièces qui ne s'imbriquent pas si l'on y regarde de plus près. Mais celui-ci était réel, je pouvais sentir le cauchemar recommencer. Les larmes remontent rien qu'à l'écrire et les tremblements se multiplient. Ma vue se floute. Les anciens souvenirs flottent à la surface, je suis adulte mais je me suis construite sur l'idée que j'étais moins bien. Pas assez. A l'adolescente que j'étais et au petit garçon de 3 ans qui grandi sous mes yeux et a besoin de sa maman pour s'épanouir sereinement, à mon mari aussi qui m'aime telle que je suis avec mes traumas et mes idées de travers, loin des fantômes qui sont les miens mais ne doivent en aucun cas devenir les leurs, je vais me soigner. Tout faire pour oublier ce bagage explosif qui est enfoui, pardonner ce qui doit l'être. A moi-même en premier parce que ce sont pas les harceleurs qui souffrent, ce sont les autres. Ce n'est pas parce que les racines de mon propre jugement sont altérées, bousillées, que demain, je ne pourrais pas les assainir. Ne nous appelez pas des victimes, nous sommes la force incarnée de vivre ensuite avec. Nous sommes plus que le harcèlement.

Aujourd'hui, faisons désormais au centuple tout ce dont nous avons été privés avant. A commencer par être nous sans la moindre once de crainte. Tu es toi et tu es suffisant.e, aimable.

Although Harriet and Ty were initially planning on sharing a room together, something that brought Harriet no small amount of excitement, the addition of Spencer and Jayce also means the addition of another room. Harriet suspects that Jayce knows the truth, but Spencer is utterly oblivious.

"Your father and I weren't born yesterday, you know. I don't mind if you share a room with your boyfriend, Harper. Throw me another piece, Harriet." Spencer gestures to their mouth, and Harriet tosses a new convenience store snack food, landing home. "Whoo! Oh, that one's wasabi and curry flavoured. Hm. I dig it. This is a great way to plan out new menu items!"

Jayce, having just returned from the onsen with Spencer, cranks the TV volume a bit higher, annoyed at the twins for interrupting a rare moment of intimate alone-time between the long-married couple. Serves you right, Harriet thinks. Ty and Masami are out on a souvenir-hunting quest. After they got over the initial period of awkwardness, Ty and Masami have turned into good friends, realizing their commonalities. Both have experienced having crushes on Harriet, dating Harper, and both come from backgrounds of poverty. Harriet is happy that everyone is getting along, but she hates sharing.

"Ty and I aren't dating anymore, Mod. It was all fake anyway, for social media. Masami and I are together." Harper says all of this while staring at the TV.

Spencer doesn't miss a beat. "Oh, well that makes way more sense, since you two are sharing a room and all. Then why is Ty here?"

To her credit, Harper doesn't glance at Harriet. She continues, "We're still good friends, Mod."

But when Jayce finally kicks them out, Harper joins Harriet back to her room. "When are you telling them?"

"Oh, I don't know… I don't think Mod would care, but I'm really worried about Dad. I want him to like Ty, but I don't blame him if he's cautious."

Harper rolls her eyes. "Remind me why we did all of this again? It wasn't for a quickie in the bushes, Harry."

"It's not like we're planning our life together, Harper!" But the idea of that sounds very appealing to Harriet, all of a sudden. "I'm still too young to even be thinking about marriage. I think I can hold off on the introductions."

"What do you mean, too young? Mod and Dad married fresh out of high school."

"Yeah, but they're a little crazy, and they've known each other since they were teenagers."

Harper nods. "Right? So it's not about age, it's about how long you've known each other."

"Huh? Well, yeah, I guess. After all, Tyrone is old enough, but he's never married…"

"No, just fathered a kid, centuplicated." They laugh, and Harper glances back at the doorway. "I'll head back now, but…" She squeezes her hand tightly. "I'm just really glad you're on this trip with me, Harriet."

Le soleil rayonnait sur cette pourriture, Comme afin de la cuire à point, Et de rendre au centuple à la grande Nature Tout ce qu'ensemble elle avait joint

soleil- sun

rayonner- to send rays, to radiate

pourriture- thing which is rotting, decomposing thing

afin- so that

cuire à point- to cook (something) medium well

rendre au centuple- give back 100 times

joindre- to join