To the boy who is not there,

It happened to me but it happened to many.
You wait for summertime, all the year you wait. I remember counting the days, I remember checking the weather for it was snowing that year, even in July. Give me a break, I don't want to freeze. You wait and the days are becoming longer, if not warmer. You wait with anxiety.
And one day, you're out, out in the big wild.

Simple gestures of a simple life. I did not put the words at first on what I did on these days. What did you do? I don't know. I walked, I climbed, I drank. Well, I think. Well, I did not think on these days. I walked, I climbed, I slept. My body was becoming all mine, a perfect engine fueled by berry picking, rice cooking, pasta eating. So present, so useless of all explanation.
To feel the late snows of an early morning,
To drink at the springs the coldest water of my daily routine,
To eat the bread at the top of the pass, curled up between the rocks of the world's balcony.

And I was alone, for it was my trail
but surely, it was rough and scary and plain.
My fears were simple like darkness, cold and hunger. My worries could stand in words like rain or others. I've experienced the gaze of country men, the disbelief and pity for this crimpled and smelly body. You're not welcome when you're alone.

And I was alone, for it was my trail
but surely, I met him, the boy who is not there. I met this silent big mountain, and I did all that I could do on these days, I learnt to climb him. I've learned to follow him, he took the lead. He was a man, after all, and he liked to believe that i was weak, and feeble, and female. I've learned to read the wrinkles of his face for they are a secured map of the leathered earth.

And I was alone, for it was my trail
but surely, he rescued me when I was in need. He unlocked the cabin, he did not let me freeze. He showed me why he took the lead for I was weak, and feeble, and female, after all. He made me a meal. And in Boreon we chose the name of our girl. Was I fifteen years old? But I was so fed up to be alone that I met at last, the boy who is not there.

And now, each time it seems to me that it's time to make tracks,
because a silly landscape is a little bit too wide,
because I discardly listen to a cry,
each time,
i can feel the creepy absence of the boy who is not there.

That's why I live in a big city.



Drôle qu'il ait fallu attendre décembre 2007 pour voir mon hot d'or alors qu'Into the wild est en bonne position pour la session 2008. J'espère que ça ne sera pas une année symétrique. Sinon, aucune envie d'écrire une critique à propos de ce flim, bien qu'il ne soit absolument pas au-dessus de toutes.Trop en miroir avec mon expérience personnelle, bien en deça me direz vous, mais au-delà de l'histoire vraie, c'était quand même du cinéma.