WWW#13 – Borrowed – Text #2 (English version)

Pour lire la version originale de ce texte en français, cliquez ici.

Those of Another

Written and translated by Ninefifteen

(Him.)

The only thing I can say is that this room is really small, bare, with white walls. The only piece of furniture lying around is a stiff bench where I do everything – sleep, eat… think.

There is a glass door – it is always locked – and behind it, a bare white corridor. My thoughts – or what is left of them – have nothing to hang on to, and there is nothing to give me a clue to understand my situation.

I was barely conscious the first time I entered this room. I had no reaction and didn’t understand anything about what was happening. I couldn’t resist the people surrounding me, taking me here and there, as they pleased. Then I slowly emerged from drowsiness and realized I knew nothing. Nothing about my surroundings. Nothing about the people I had caught a glimpse of earlier. And worse, I knew nothing about myself. I had an awful headache. Continue reading

WWW #13 – Borrowed – Text #3

Vicariously

by B.

I do not know about you, but I am a fan of romantic comedies. I always marvel at the beauty of these stories. How extremely silly or thoughtful the characters are. They are just like us, except they are more. They are caricatures with whom we can identify. They think less and they act more. It seems to make them very happy. Sometimes they think too much and end up being very lucky. I do not believe in, nor do I appreciate those types of storylines as much. My favorites are the ones that are packed with action. I adore it when things happen, and the characters make choices, good or bad choices, but those choices always end up well received. Romantic movies remind us that there are great people around us, and they are well worth taking a leap for.

 

I am really good at watching, appreciating, or creating moments in stories. I enjoy it so much, it makes me feel elated, when I write or watch or read about amazing love stories, grand gestures and magical love affairs. My imagination is packed with great ideas and wonderful romantic moves, but when comes the time to endorse them and do it for real, i.e. make a move so bold it could feature in one of Sparks’ novels; I am just like anyone else. I am petrified. I would like to borrow the supernatural abilities of a gifted medium to know the ending, before a story even begins in real life, so that I could peacefully make my way to the entrance, or to the exit, risk free.

 

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WWW#13 – Borrowed – Texte #2

Read this text in English

Ceux d’une autre

Un texte original par Ninefifteen

(Lui.)

Tout ce que je peux dire, c’est que cette pièce est toute petite, blanche et nue, sans autre meuble qu’une banquette raide où tout se passe, mon sommeil, mes repas, mes pensées.

La porte toujours verrouillée est en verre et derrière il n’y a rien d’autre qu’un couloir blanc et nu lui aussi. Rien où accrocher mes pensées ou ce qu’il en reste, rien pour me donner un indice supplémentaire pour comprendre ma situation.

Quand je suis entré dans cette pièce pour la première fois, j’étais à peine conscient. Je n’ai eu aucune réaction et je ne comprenais rien de ce qui se passait — je me laissais porter par mon environnement et les gens qui s’y mouvaient. Puis je suis un peu sorti de ma torpeur et j’ai réalisé que je ne savais rien, rien sur ce qui m’entourait, rien sur les gens qui m’avaient amené ici et que j’avais à peine entrevus, et pire, rien sur moi-même. J’avais atrocement mal à la tête.

Après les premiers moments d’angoisse, et quand se sont apaisées les migraines, j’ai commencé à m’examiner, méthodiquement. Sous ma blouse blanche, j’ai le corps d’un adulte, pas trop vieux et en assez bonne santé a priori. Il y a des cicatrices dont j’ignore l’origine, une au bras droit, l’autre au genou gauche. Elles sont là mais ne m’évoquent rien — comme des petits défauts de fabrication, plus que les témoins d’événements passés. Mon visage même m’apparaît quelconque, ne s’accrochant à aucun prénom. Continue reading