Lolita’s Review (Vladimir Nabokov)

Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin my soul. Lo-lee-ta…

An incredibly smooth serene sequential, a continuation of mouth vocal and nasal sounds, a cake of crunchy crispy creamy words, a lust, a lavished lust, a nymphet’s lust, a bunch of lilac letters, a rosy paper, a funny torture, a miserable fortune, a lyrical human encounter, a simple ‘lo’, a lovely ‘lee’, a naughty ‘ta’, a wildy childhood, a miserable fun, a lot of fun and a lot of fury.

A primitive amour, a kind sin, an erected passion, a muddy love affair, a nasty nymphancy, a helpless young body, a messy red lipstick, a sophisticated suicide, a hopeless rape, a monster with a warm heart, an angel with a naughty mind, extroverted caresses, pervert hands, a cursed pen of poetry, a mesmerizing submission, a boyish rage, a yearning, a longing, a mourning for dirty shelter, for salty saliva, for subtle literature.

H.H & Lolita

Green fruit

I see myself as a fruit vert and I like it, I honestly feel flattered to say it and I’m proud of it as well.

All of the fruit vert are hard to bite and early to find; they are keen green with small crimson spots which is pretty sexy I may say.

Once you see it you want to grab it, to squeeze it, to caress it and to smell its greenish moisturing texture.

CRUM! the noise is shivering like a feather strolling on a woman’s milk-draining-pear. A mixture of tender and harshness just like my past, my ancient prototype..

Je suis un fruit vert! Et que c’est beau à dire et à prononcer.. it melts on the mouth but it is hard to digest. It also might get stuck on the throat and cannot be swallowed; it might suffocate you, it might stop her milk-draining-pear from growing up, so it might kill your ancient lust.

Oh mon amour noir, mon appétit flambant! J’ai fumé tous les cigares ce soir mais je ne me sens plus le tabac…I inhale and exhale a childish air, a bubble of immature and hairless ashes, a flamboyant breath.

It was born at the dawn and shall die in late autumn. It shall have an early puberty but will soon wane like the ashes of the nighty-mood cigares, like the vanilla pouder melting in the tip of every tongue.

All the fruits verts come once and all the mouths want to suck the sugarless hard skin of that crop, all of them, and I like it, I honestly feel flattered to say it and I’m proud of it as well.

Unwanted things

A bull of grassy sweety crunchy petites et débiles life-goes-on rules I don’t want to follow neither do I want to understand. 

For example, I made a coffee and it happened that I put more than enough nescafé in my cup and it tasted bitter or too sweet for my tongue, I don’t want to drink it nor do I want to pour it out so I keep the milk in the cup till the next morning so I don’t regret the two alternatives. 

Here comes to my mind what mom says as life is ‘difficile’. I confirm that but in a different way and I smile in the end under my blanket.

Mom always says right things but I just don’t want to spoil my principles and my things to feel both grateful and released. 

I still need that look

A push and a pull… And I can do nothing but responding to these unpalpable feelings. I look deeply and I try to understand what makes me and him unable to articulate, to say what can’t be said and to reveal the words hidden in our mouths. Patience is good but I can wait no more; so either you set free your words or I blow out that rasing  desire. Though I know I’ll get back cause I can’t leave the ‘push and pull’ stuck in my mind. I know I don’t get happy endings but I just want to seize the moment and live it to the fullest. I smile and I blush, I say stupid things and I make up stories,… The truth is that I want to end all of this and face reality though I’m afraid to do so cause I’m afraid to loose what I already acquired.. I’m afraid to loose that ‘push and pull’ in your eyes.. 

With love! 

A father

Life as it has always been, i saw the best part of it and the worst of it and can do nothing but choose both of them.

I saw your weakness papa, i saw your light and I can do nothing but stare at those pale blue eyes in vain. They were firm as they had always been but their look was wondered and slight. Your beauty never faded away but at that time it was just too shy to unveil. I kissed your face and you hands and you kissed my shoulder then I realised how much I love you papa. We were friends but in a different way and I liked how we kept our friendship that way.

An autumn sunday 

I am in my most sobering momemts i have ever felt! A vague chilling sense of happiness and fuzzing is dwelled into my heart and i keep asking myself about my solemn wonder.

I want to seize the moment and unleash my promptious desires invading deep into my mind.

It is very distracting how i am amused and afraid at the same time. I am afraid to loose that creeping moment and the tense feelings of joy that blister my heart.

I’m afraid of being denied of not being satisfied, as I have always been insatiable.

In this bleak lonely sunday morning, i decided to open my heart to my unpromised future and give away my hideous worries. To new love, new promissess and new adventure!