A purpose in life

A purpose in life

Fortunately there is the neighbor.

Pascal.

Pascal is in love with his cat Figaro. However, that’s not all it takes to make him look like an old bachelor. Seeing him sitting at the bottom of the garden cutting his toenails is a most refreshing sight.

Pascal, he’s clever as a monkey! He carefully chooses the ideal spot with the best view on our garden terrace, while indulging in a pedicure session so long that you could imagine the poor bugger’s poorly shaped feet of about fifty toes. Still, this dampens my natural enthusiasm for living dressed in nudity.

But Pascal, I love him.

Thanks to him, I have a purpose in life!

Thanks to him, I will be able to tell stories as abracadabratic as being disintegrated with acid and ending up as liquid in a jar! Because, yes, Pascal knows all the necessary chemicals and how to combine them together, and “at one time” he had all the equipment on hand to reduce you to mush! Pascal is the trophy for the best neighbors presentation.

It’s important to have a purpose in life.

Especially in a slightly crazy society, where I secretly dream of a utopian mutation towards more respect for human beings and nature.

Too much consumption. Too much advertising. Too many social networks. Too many influencers in swimsuits, with their butts in the air on Insta, their pout faces, and in their hands the glass of champagne offered by the company that buys a glorious comment. Too many hashtags. Too much buzz. Too much of too much.

A ‘too much’ that does a hole in the ozone layer and polluting humanity.

I’am in the fog, I am looking for my place in this world. Where is my seat? I grope my way through the aisles of the theater, looking for my row number! The usherette is there, I hear her timidly. « Over here, Mrs. Mariepeties, on your left, seat 45A.»  She’s starting to get all flustered. I’d better react so she won’t yell it to me in my face !

At forty-five, I’m tired of being afraid.

Fortunately, there is the joyful blue sky of a life chosen outside the box. Other routines, including those that question people close to me or people I simply meet on my way.

« What do you do all day ? ». #(Hashtag)Thekillingquestion!

« My darling … where are you my darling?… », Pascal’s enchanting voice pulls me out of the ebullience of the writing and Pauline and I get a good laught.

I don’t have time to answer the killer question, but don’t worry: #(Hashtag)Iamnotbored!

#(Hashtag)MyLifeAtTheBeach #(Hashtag)Housework #Iliketoswim #BoardGames #PancakeMaking #Impro #lie-in #Sewing #MyLifeWithoutHashtag #Etc…

Thanks to all these moments, I have a purpose in life. Phew. #ExtraordinaryLife!

Because of all these moments, I have a purpose in life that makes money. Oops. #Thesinewsofwar!

The theater is in the dark. The show is about to start. The usherette is getting more and more agitated… « Please seat madam! This way, please … »

A babook* enters the stage with her bag of babies under her belly and while suddenly … [Bim! Bam! Boom! ]

Let’s go! Next week, Pauline and I will meet again, vacuum cleaner in hands, at one o’clock in the morning, laughing nervously at the pile of my clothes, to talk about tidying up and minimalist life. #MarieKondo

Don’t ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.

Harold Whitman

Babook : Heteropoda venatoria, the babouk is a spider specie of araneomorphs of the family Sparassida.

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