Le poisson ainsi coloré

It is a crazy thing that I continue to write despite oppressive conditions.
The oppression is a disambiguated word that really does not belong in the city that I live in.
I continue to write, I continue to listen, I continue to pretend to remember what offices I used to camp in.
You may find it strange that these words, ever so effortlessly written, continue to haunt me, but I am frankly sick of hearing things that do not make me feel happy. Writing conveys what I hear, and sometimes all I hear is people discouraging me.
Wanting to convey something that travels near e=mc2 and transcribing it into a continuous theme of x is a wanton thing to do.
I prompted this post by examining a card that beats down any one else.

History bit - un porte-manteau

I spent the majority of the 5th of August obsessing over plant matter.

By using that day for/to lose my time in front of plant matter, il n y a pas d'options francophiles si il n y a personne qui s'intéeresse à mon histoire t ragique, et pourtant... si comédique!

I hate it when people telll me a word is one way, and they tell me then that it's actually pronounced another way. Do I hate the spell check? Who doesn't? Not me! I'm an expert at it, except when it comes to properly construced grammatical sentences.

Une plainte presque bilingue (no phoques to give)

Okay, if you can't tell by now, I suffer from a non-serious condition called VAS. You can google it, but again, google does not endorse or condone such behaviour so do so at your own peril.

 

Writing prompt: European media and products

 

 

Trop de temps ligné aux écrans

Purpose: To shut down YouTube... for good!
Observation: My mom pulled a "burrito" out of the fridge. It was not a cat.
Result: I laughed; my mom told me that I like to play games. Elle m'a dit: "t'aime ça jouer des tours, hein? Hihi! :D"