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 Moi et mes idées > I'm back

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➢ Missives : 165
Date d'inscription : 01/05/2017
Age : 15
Localisation : Dans l'eau

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MessageSujet: Moi et mes idées > I'm back   Mar 2 Mai - 11:42

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<center><div style="padding-top:15px; padding-bottom:5px;padding-right:15px;padding-left:15px"> <img src="http://i.imgur.com/UFxfB7L.gif" width="445px" style="border:solid 3px white;margin-bottom:-20px"> <link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Pinyon+Script' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><div style="font-size:45px;font-family: 'Pinyon Script', cursive;text-shadow: 0px 0px 3px #333;color:#fff;line-height:13px;text-transform:lowercase;position:relative;letter-spacing:-2px">My mind is up and away</div> <div style="width : 450px; padding-top:5px; padding-bottom:5px; padding-right:10px; padding-left:10px"><div style="font-size:9px;font-family:Times New Roman;line-height:8px;letter-spacing:1px;text-transform:uppercase;text-align:center;border-bottom:3px solid white;margin-bottom:10px">“Sometimes I believe that this less material life is our truer life, and that our vain presence on the terraqueous globe is itself the secondary or merely virtual phenomenon.”</div> <div style="font-family: arial; font-size:13px; text-align:justify"><div style="font-size:45px;font-family: 'Pinyon Script', cursive;text-shadow: 0px 0px 3px #333;color:#fff;margin-right:10px;margin-top:12px;float:left">W</div>hen age fell upon the world, and wonder went out of the minds of men; when grey cities reared to smoky skies tall towers grim and ugly, in whose shadow none might dream of the sun or of spring’s flowering meads; when learning stripped earth of her mantle of beauty, and poets sang no more save of twisted phantoms seen with bleared and inward-looking eyes; when these things had come to pass, and childish hopes had gone away forever, there was a man who travelled out of life on a quest into the spaces whither the world’s dreams had fled.
<div style="font-size:45px;font-family: 'Pinyon Script', cursive;text-shadow: 0px 0px 3px #333;color:#fff;margin-right:10px;margin-top:12px;float:left">O</div>f the name and abode of this man but little is written, for they were of the waking world only; yet it is said that both were obscure. It is enough to know that he dwelt in a city of high walls where sterile twilight reigned, and that he toiled all day among shadow and turmoil, coming home at evening to a room whose one window opened not on the fields and groves but on a dim court where other windows stared in dull despair. From that casement one might see only walls and windows, except sometimes when one leaned far out and peered aloft at the small stars that passed. And because mere walls and windows must soon drive to madness a man who dreams and reads much, the dweller in that room used night after night to lean out and peer aloft to glimpse some fragment of things beyond the waking world and the greyness of tall cities. After years he began to call the slow-sailing stars by name, and to follow them in fancy when they glided regretfully out of sight; till at length his vision opened to many secret vistas whose existence no common eye suspects. And one night a mighty gulf was bridged, and the dream-haunted skies swelled down to the lonely watcher’s window to merge with the close air of his room and make him a part of their fabulous wonder.
<div style="font-size:45px;font-family: 'Pinyon Script', cursive;text-shadow: 0px 0px 3px #333;color:#fff;margin-right:10px;margin-top:12px;float:left">T</div>here came to that room wild streams of violet midnight glittering with dust of gold; vortices of dust and fire, swirling out of the ultimate spaces and heavy with perfumes from beyond the worlds. Opiate oceans poured there, litten by suns that the eye may never behold and having in their whirlpools strange dolphins and sea-nymphs of unrememberable deeps. Noiseless infinity eddied around the dreamer and wafted him away without even touching the body that leaned stiffly from the lonely window; and for days not counted in men’s calendars the tides of far spheres bare him gently to join the dreams for which he longed; the dreams that men have lost. And in the course of many cycles they tenderly left him sleeping on a green sunrise shore; a green shore fragrant with lotus-blossoms and starred by red camalotes. </div> <div style="font-family: arial; font-size:7px; text-align:center;text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing:2px; line-height:20px;border-top:3px solid white;margin-top:10px">© Mister Hyde</div></div></div></center>
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MEMBRE - Réincarnation
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➢ Missives : 165
Date d'inscription : 01/05/2017
Age : 15
Localisation : Dans l'eau

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MessageSujet: Re: Moi et mes idées > I'm back   Mer 3 Mai - 0:14

Rentrée des classes à St Alb
“Si l'ennui était mortel, l'école serait un cimetière”

R
etour à St alb! À moi la liberté. Punaise qu'est-ce que ça fait du bien de revenir. Ce fichu lycée m'a bien manqué cet été. Il faut dire qu'avoir mes parents sur le dos, surtout ma mère tous les soirs ce n'était pas de la tarte, mais bon. Heureusement que j'ai pu compter sur Clément ou Hugo pour certains soirs et qu'on puisse partir en ville. Enfin quand Hugo était là vu qu'il est parti quelques semaines avec ses parents en Russie. 

J'
ai retrouvé ma chambre, la même que celle de l'année dernière. Elle est bien vide vu que les murs sont blancs. Il va falloir que je remette toutes mes affiches. Ce matin papa a pris une journée pour m'amener à St Alb, comme si j'avais vraiment besoin de ça. On a un bus pas loin et puis ce n'est pas avec trois sacs que je vais mourir. Mais bon j'ai pu amener plus d'affaires comme ça... Il faut voir le bon côté des choses. J'ai croisé Violet dans le hall d'entrée, mais je ne lui ai pas beaucoup parlé vu qu'elle discute avec Jessica. 

E
t voila le repas est pris et retour dans ma chambre. Mes sacs ne sont pas tous défais, mais tant pis je verrai ça demain. Tant que mes uniformes sont pendus, ça passe. J'ai récupéré mon planning et demain je commence par maths... Que de joie... En plus on doit rendre nos devoirs de vacances. Ça me fais penser que je n'ai pas demandé à Hugo sa page 130, je n'ai pas fait la mienne vu que je n'ai rien compris. Bon après tous mes devoirs est fait, je pense que ça passe...
Aller hop je te laisse j'ai mon dernier Avengers qui m'attend sur mon lit ^^ A moi Iron Man =)
© Mister Hyde


Dernière édition par Connor Williams le Mer 3 Mai - 18:37, édité 2 fois
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➢ Missives : 165
Date d'inscription : 01/05/2017
Age : 15
Localisation : Dans l'eau

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MessageSujet: Re: Moi et mes idées > I'm back   Mer 3 Mai - 0:14

Retour à la maison pour le week-end
“Heureusement y a que Bulle à qui je manque”
D
eux jours de liberté au lycée et voila qu'on est déjà vendredi soir. Qui dit vendredi dit week-end. Qui dit week-end dit retour à la maison.Enfin je sais bien qu'on n'est pas obligé à renter à la maison, mais j'ai mes comics à prendre et puis Bulle me manque. C'est un sacret paquet de poils qui devient de plus en plus lourd, mais bon, je l'aime cet idiot ^^
A
près tout je ne suis là que pour la journée. Mes parents ne sont pas là. Maman m'a laissé un mot sur la porte de ma chambre et mon père... Rien... Je suis habituée, voilà les bonnes vieilles habitudes qui reveinnent ici. Adieu les vacances d'été où on pouvait faire croire que la famille parfaite portait le nom de Williams. Je ne pense pas revenir les autres week-ends, je suis mieux au lycée de toute façon.


E
t voilà appel de papa, ils vont au restaurant ce soir. Ils étaient persuadé que j'étais au lycée. J'ai plus qu'a faire mon sac et à rentré à St Alb. De toute façon j'ai rien de mieux à faire ce soir. Peut-être que Clem et  Hugo sont en ville....ça serai pas si mal que ça un verre au pub le Mappel's. Nikki le patron est super cool et puis le serveur est gentil et on rigole bien là-bas. Cet été c'était un peu notre Q.G, assez loin de chez nous pour ne pas voir nos parents et pas trop loin pour pouvoir rentré au plus vite si besoin.
© Mister Hyde


Dernière édition par Connor Williams le Mer 3 Mai - 22:05, édité 4 fois
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MEMBRE - Réincarnation
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➢ Missives : 165
Date d'inscription : 01/05/2017
Age : 15
Localisation : Dans l'eau

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MessageSujet: Re: Moi et mes idées > I'm back   Mer 3 Mai - 0:15

Piscine et basket
“le chois est pas dur”
J
ournée assez longue je trouve. Ce matin en cours d'histoire on nous à distribuer la liste des clubs et les feuilles d'inscription. Je n'ai pas mis longtemps à remplir, de toute façon cette année aussi ça sera basket pour moi. Avec un peu de chance mes parents viendront voir un match... Ah ah rien de relire ma phrase je me rend compte que c'est drôle car ils ne viendront pas comme à chaque fois! Mais je pense en prendre que ça, car bon la piscine c'est juste pour le plaisir et la détente. 
On a eu une belle journée aujourd'hui, il a fait beau et c'était sympa d'aller faire un tour au parc avec les garçons. Cassi a commencé à rapporter les nouvelles. Rien de fou comme d'habitude, que des choses qui l'intéresse à elle.
C
e qui m'a faits un bien fou par contre c'est juste après les cours. je suis allé sauter dans la piscine. Il n'y avait personne et c'était parfait. Ça m'a faits un bien fou d'être seul dans l'eau. J'en avais besoin, même si à présent je suis en manque. Bonjour je suis accro au chlore XD Heureusement qu'on peux y aller quand on veux car sinon ça serait trop long pour moi d'attendre le samedi.
P
our ce qui est des devoirs, je vais devoir plancher un peu sur mon histoire. On a un contrôle pour la semaine prochaine. Et oui ça commence sur les chapeaux de roues. Même pas une semaine et voilà qu'on a un contrôle.  
© Mister Hyde


Dernière édition par Connor Williams le Mer 3 Mai - 19:20, édité 2 fois
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➢ Missives : 165
Date d'inscription : 01/05/2017
Age : 15
Localisation : Dans l'eau

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MessageSujet: Re: Moi et mes idées > I'm back   Mer 3 Mai - 0:15

La nouvelle
“Sometimes I believe that this less material life is our truer life, and that our vain presence on the terraqueous globe is itself the secondary or merely virtual phenomenon.”
W
hen age fell upon the world, and wonder went out of the minds of men; when grey cities reared to smoky skies tall towers grim and ugly, in whose shadow none might dream of the sun or of spring’s flowering meads; when learning stripped earth of her mantle of beauty, and poets sang no more save of twisted phantoms seen with bleared and inward-looking eyes; when these things had come to pass, and childish hopes had gone away forever, there was a man who travelled out of life on a quest into the spaces whither the world’s dreams had fled.
O
f the name and abode of this man but little is written, for they were of the waking world only; yet it is said that both were obscure. It is enough to know that he dwelt in a city of high walls where sterile twilight reigned, and that he toiled all day among shadow and turmoil, coming home at evening to a room whose one window opened not on the fields and groves but on a dim court where other windows stared in dull despair. From that casement one might see only walls and windows, except sometimes when one leaned far out and peered aloft at the small stars that passed. And because mere walls and windows must soon drive to madness a man who dreams and reads much, the dweller in that room used night after night to lean out and peer aloft to glimpse some fragment of things beyond the waking world and the greyness of tall cities. After years he began to call the slow-sailing stars by name, and to follow them in fancy when they glided regretfully out of sight; till at length his vision opened to many secret vistas whose existence no common eye suspects. And one night a mighty gulf was bridged, and the dream-haunted skies swelled down to the lonely watcher’s window to merge with the close air of his room and make him a part of their fabulous wonder.
T
here came to that room wild streams of violet midnight glittering with dust of gold; vortices of dust and fire, swirling out of the ultimate spaces and heavy with perfumes from beyond the worlds. Opiate oceans poured there, litten by suns that the eye may never behold and having in their whirlpools strange dolphins and sea-nymphs of unrememberable deeps. Noiseless infinity eddied around the dreamer and wafted him away without even touching the body that leaned stiffly from the lonely window; and for days not counted in men’s calendars the tides of far spheres bare him gently to join the dreams for which he longed; the dreams that men have lost. And in the course of many cycles they tenderly left him sleeping on a green sunrise shore; a green shore fragrant with lotus-blossoms and starred by red camalotes.
© Mister Hyde


Dernière édition par Connor Williams le Mer 3 Mai - 0:41, édité 1 fois
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MEMBRE - Réincarnation
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➢ Missives : 165
Date d'inscription : 01/05/2017
Age : 15
Localisation : Dans l'eau

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MessageSujet: Re: Moi et mes idées > I'm back   Mer 3 Mai - 0:16

mail de maman....
“Sometimes I believe that this less material life is our truer life, and that our vain presence on the terraqueous globe is itself the secondary or merely virtual phenomenon.”
W
hen age fell upon the world, and wonder went out of the minds of men; when grey cities reared to smoky skies tall towers grim and ugly, in whose shadow none might dream of the sun or of spring’s flowering meads; when learning stripped earth of her mantle of beauty, and poets sang no more save of twisted phantoms seen with bleared and inward-looking eyes; when these things had come to pass, and childish hopes had gone away forever, there was a man who travelled out of life on a quest into the spaces whither the world’s dreams had fled.
O
f the name and abode of this man but little is written, for they were of the waking world only; yet it is said that both were obscure. It is enough to know that he dwelt in a city of high walls where sterile twilight reigned, and that he toiled all day among shadow and turmoil, coming home at evening to a room whose one window opened not on the fields and groves but on a dim court where other windows stared in dull despair. From that casement one might see only walls and windows, except sometimes when one leaned far out and peered aloft at the small stars that passed. And because mere walls and windows must soon drive to madness a man who dreams and reads much, the dweller in that room used night after night to lean out and peer aloft to glimpse some fragment of things beyond the waking world and the greyness of tall cities. After years he began to call the slow-sailing stars by name, and to follow them in fancy when they glided regretfully out of sight; till at length his vision opened to many secret vistas whose existence no common eye suspects. And one night a mighty gulf was bridged, and the dream-haunted skies swelled down to the lonely watcher’s window to merge with the close air of his room and make him a part of their fabulous wonder.
T
here came to that room wild streams of violet midnight glittering with dust of gold; vortices of dust and fire, swirling out of the ultimate spaces and heavy with perfumes from beyond the worlds. Opiate oceans poured there, litten by suns that the eye may never behold and having in their whirlpools strange dolphins and sea-nymphs of unrememberable deeps. Noiseless infinity eddied around the dreamer and wafted him away without even touching the body that leaned stiffly from the lonely window; and for days not counted in men’s calendars the tides of far spheres bare him gently to join the dreams for which he longed; the dreams that men have lost. And in the course of many cycles they tenderly left him sleeping on a green sunrise shore; a green shore fragrant with lotus-blossoms and starred by red camalotes.
© Mister Hyde


Dernière édition par Connor Williams le Mer 3 Mai - 0:42, édité 1 fois
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➢ Missives : 165
Date d'inscription : 01/05/2017
Age : 15
Localisation : Dans l'eau

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MessageSujet: Re: Moi et mes idées > I'm back   Mer 3 Mai - 0:16

journée à la con
“Sometimes I believe that this less material life is our truer life, and that our vain presence on the terraqueous globe is itself the secondary or merely virtual phenomenon.”
W
hen age fell upon the world, and wonder went out of the minds of men; when grey cities reared to smoky skies tall towers grim and ugly, in whose shadow none might dream of the sun or of spring’s flowering meads; when learning stripped earth of her mantle of beauty, and poets sang no more save of twisted phantoms seen with bleared and inward-looking eyes; when these things had come to pass, and childish hopes had gone away forever, there was a man who travelled out of life on a quest into the spaces whither the world’s dreams had fled.
O
f the name and abode of this man but little is written, for they were of the waking world only; yet it is said that both were obscure. It is enough to know that he dwelt in a city of high walls where sterile twilight reigned, and that he toiled all day among shadow and turmoil, coming home at evening to a room whose one window opened not on the fields and groves but on a dim court where other windows stared in dull despair. From that casement one might see only walls and windows, except sometimes when one leaned far out and peered aloft at the small stars that passed. And because mere walls and windows must soon drive to madness a man who dreams and reads much, the dweller in that room used night after night to lean out and peer aloft to glimpse some fragment of things beyond the waking world and the greyness of tall cities. After years he began to call the slow-sailing stars by name, and to follow them in fancy when they glided regretfully out of sight; till at length his vision opened to many secret vistas whose existence no common eye suspects. And one night a mighty gulf was bridged, and the dream-haunted skies swelled down to the lonely watcher’s window to merge with the close air of his room and make him a part of their fabulous wonder.
T
here came to that room wild streams of violet midnight glittering with dust of gold; vortices of dust and fire, swirling out of the ultimate spaces and heavy with perfumes from beyond the worlds. Opiate oceans poured there, litten by suns that the eye may never behold and having in their whirlpools strange dolphins and sea-nymphs of unrememberable deeps. Noiseless infinity eddied around the dreamer and wafted him away without even touching the body that leaned stiffly from the lonely window; and for days not counted in men’s calendars the tides of far spheres bare him gently to join the dreams for which he longed; the dreams that men have lost. And in the course of many cycles they tenderly left him sleeping on a green sunrise shore; a green shore fragrant with lotus-blossoms and starred by red camalotes.
© Mister Hyde


Dernière édition par Connor Williams le Mer 3 Mai - 0:43, édité 1 fois
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MEMBRE - Réincarnation
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➢ Missives : 165
Date d'inscription : 01/05/2017
Age : 15
Localisation : Dans l'eau

Reflet de l'âme
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MessageSujet: Re: Moi et mes idées > I'm back   Mer 3 Mai - 0:17

journée à la con 0.2
“Sometimes I believe that this less material life is our truer life, and that our vain presence on the terraqueous globe is itself the secondary or merely virtual phenomenon.”
W
hen age fell upon the world, and wonder went out of the minds of men; when grey cities reared to smoky skies tall towers grim and ugly, in whose shadow none might dream of the sun or of spring’s flowering meads; when learning stripped earth of her mantle of beauty, and poets sang no more save of twisted phantoms seen with bleared and inward-looking eyes; when these things had come to pass, and childish hopes had gone away forever, there was a man who travelled out of life on a quest into the spaces whither the world’s dreams had fled.
O
f the name and abode of this man but little is written, for they were of the waking world only; yet it is said that both were obscure. It is enough to know that he dwelt in a city of high walls where sterile twilight reigned, and that he toiled all day among shadow and turmoil, coming home at evening to a room whose one window opened not on the fields and groves but on a dim court where other windows stared in dull despair. From that casement one might see only walls and windows, except sometimes when one leaned far out and peered aloft at the small stars that passed. And because mere walls and windows must soon drive to madness a man who dreams and reads much, the dweller in that room used night after night to lean out and peer aloft to glimpse some fragment of things beyond the waking world and the greyness of tall cities. After years he began to call the slow-sailing stars by name, and to follow them in fancy when they glided regretfully out of sight; till at length his vision opened to many secret vistas whose existence no common eye suspects. And one night a mighty gulf was bridged, and the dream-haunted skies swelled down to the lonely watcher’s window to merge with the close air of his room and make him a part of their fabulous wonder.
T
here came to that room wild streams of violet midnight glittering with dust of gold; vortices of dust and fire, swirling out of the ultimate spaces and heavy with perfumes from beyond the worlds. Opiate oceans poured there, litten by suns that the eye may never behold and having in their whirlpools strange dolphins and sea-nymphs of unrememberable deeps. Noiseless infinity eddied around the dreamer and wafted him away without even touching the body that leaned stiffly from the lonely window; and for days not counted in men’s calendars the tides of far spheres bare him gently to join the dreams for which he longed; the dreams that men have lost. And in the course of many cycles they tenderly left him sleeping on a green sunrise shore; a green shore fragrant with lotus-blossoms and starred by red camalotes.
© Mister Hyde
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