Two Hundred Tweet Stories
Le 8 décembre 2012 je publiais ma première série de cent tweets ‘micro-fictionnels’ rédigés en anglais, respectant la contrainte exacte des 140 caractères, espaces compris, de longueur d’un message sur Twitter.
Ces cent premiers pépiements d’oiseaux (en fait 103) s’étalaient du 19 mai au 8 décembre de l’année dernière. La série qui suit reprend le fil à partir du 9 décembre et se poursuit jusqu’à ce jour, 31 août, elle comprend 98 nouveaux tweets. Le hasard fait qu’il y en a donc exactement 201 aujourd’hui. De plus, ce 201è et dernier tweet écrit dans l'esprit de la contrainte, est le 667è message posté sur mon compte Twitter, par ailleurs alimenté par d'autres sources (j’ai donc échappé à la malédiction du 666è).
La discipline de rédiger un et un seul message par jour n’a par contre pas été respectée, on pourra observer des pépiements multiples certaines journées, puis des plages de silence, les oiseaux s’étaient envolés.
#104 – 9th December
In Matthew 25.27 interest on principal is justified as a moral principle. You won’t steal a man’s labor fruit. The Evil’s work zeroes rates.
#105 – 10th December
The ultimate trick had been played in financial markets. The Black Swan emerged from depths of debts. One’ hour later the future disappeared.
#106 – 11th December
“My Son, remember the Great Upheaval of our ancestors from Acadia”. Centuries later, the story still hurt expatriates hearts. “Yes, Father.”
#107 – 12th December
As a poet you sit naturally on top of the company. Then a group of trusted craftsmen design new things for you. At the end technocrats rule.
#108 – 13th December
With algo trading you can wipe out value from a market in a few seconds. Let’s start a game never to be forgotten. Where’s the Enter button?
#109 – 14th December
I have met with a good bunch of people this week, shared ideas, practices, wit. When the virtual corporation will come true, we will thrive.
#110 – 15th December
Political theory, it’s about who ultimately owns the gun, right? No it’s about who gives the right to choose who owns the gun: Constitution.
#111 – 16th December
When all our quantum photonic computers and internet cloud will return to sand what will stand to tell who we where but old leathered books?
#112 – 17th December
Janet was pointing her finger on her head. She was trying to show me something words could not speak out of a six years old girl’s memories.
#113 – 18th December
The ultimate level of communication is reached now we’re able to speak to our beloved dead ones. Ah! My mobile is ringing. “Son?” “Yes Dad”.
#114 – 19th December
I purchased “Hundred Thousand Billion Poems” by Raymond Queneau. Where do I start? Reading 7x24 I’ll need 200 million years. Need more time?
#115 – 20th December
I lost a billion Yuans in volatile Futures. Hide and seek running game opens now with Chinese Triads after me! Las Vegas Orbital nightmares.
#116 – 21st December
Stop NRA. Stop NRA. Stop NRA. Stop NRA. Stop NRA. Stop NRA. Stop NRA. Stop NRA. Stop NRA. Stop NRA. Stop NRA. Stop NRA. Stop NRA. Kill NRA..
#117 – 22nd December
St-Peter holds the key, what will I tell him: “I returned x% of interest to the Lord, paid back all debts?” No, just this: “It was all fun.”
#118 – 23rd December
Check luggage before departing: brush, toothpaste, blue pills, red pills, Gold Cards? All there. What about the Portable Psychiatrist? Okay.
#119 – 24th December
Next stop, the stars (my destination). Merry Christmas to friends on Mars & Titan colonies. Kind thought for the hibernating ones to Sirius.
#120 – 25th December
The sentient planet of Solaris expanded its oceanic feelings, touched my soul, healed me from my losses. “And death shall have no dominion.”
#121 – 26th December
Today I met the ghost of James Joyce writing the last chapter of Ulysses, at 71 Cardinal Lemoine Str., Paris. Check if you don’t believe me.
#122 – 27th December
Today I met the ghost of Sylvia Beach editing Joyce’s Ulysses in 1922, at Shakespeare & Co, 37 Bûcherie Str., Paris. Feel good with friends.
#123 – 28th December
Today I met a bunch of old chaps drinking absinthe at the Café “Bohèmes”, Grand Palais, Paris. The girl with long red hairs looked after me.
#124 – 29th December
Watched first episodes of ‘Time Tunnel’ and ‘Invaders’ TV series from late sixties, reminded my years at elementary school, chats with kids.
#125 -(Not published on Twitter) – 29th December
It requires skills to sum-up in 140 characters, including spaces, the essence of anything, even world news. Have a look, ask in max. 140 ch.
#126 – 30th December
Preparing playlist for New Year’s Eve, kind of a tricky art, blending top hits and moving music for the hearts of people you’re bonded with.
#127 – 31st December
Last of the year, leather bounded edition of Joyce’s “Ulysses”, with decision of Judge John M. Woolsey to lift the ban on the book, NY 1933.
#128 – 1st January 2013
No! No! You won’t stop me trying until my last breath, to blow up your devilish plots. You won’t take over on our world! You, alien leeches!
#129 – 1st January 2013
Sir! The tunnel! Close the tunnel! We are connected to the past, its energy flows down the river of Time. Shut it down before it’s too late!
#130 – 2nd January 2013
So, will the fiscal cliff be avoided after all? It could do short-term good, for sure. But later on, might the cliff rise into Grand Canyon?
#131 – 3rd January 2013
Listening to Hermann’s music for “Vertigo”, my cat’s ears shiver in despair, remembering so lovely mice going down by the trap of his mouth.
#132 – 4th January 2013
Trend of the day, I am visualizing my network; jellyfish like drawing connected with clusters of dots and spaghettis. Selfish self-portrait.
#133 – 5th January 2013
My friend Vladimir has appointed me Vospodar of Valachia. My glory will be incensed from Volgograd to Vladivostock. Taxes are too obnoxious.
#134 – 6th January 2013
The revolutionaries broke into the Elysée, captured the President. He got a fair trial, “1793” revival style, clear and cut. Terror is back.
#135 – 7th January 2013
When I was young and foolish, I met you on a backward alley, we rubbed our sweaty furs, went on an eerie night of claws, meows and catwalks.
#136 – 8th January 2013
“Today there won’t be any tweet” thought the exhausted would-be writer, unless a powerful charm dispels the miasmas from my mind. “Rejoice!”
#137 – 9th January 2013
I’ve read so many books, that I wonder if I am real, or myself a fiction. If I’m air, this tweet might reach its true creator. Wait and see.
#138 – 10th January 2013
Giulietta, Giulietta! The poet was shouting her name in Piazza San Marco, frightening tourists and pigeons. Lost love, the keys of his Alfa.
#139 – 11th January 2013
Mississippi River, revered Grand Father of the United States, I preach on your shores God’s word to the Natives. My soul: go, fly to heaven!
#140 – 3rd March 2013
It has been 51 days since my last 140-characters tweet. Today, it is the 140th tweet I am delivering since inception. Ultra-shorts comeback.
#141 – 4th March 2013
Before the event everything was very much ordinary. Then “it” happened. A “Black Swan” had struck my life. Gobbled at once into cat’s mouth.
#142 – 5th March 2013
Capt. Koichi watched the armada skyline on the blue horizon. The long wait was over. Spring came wonderful. It was a sunny day over Okinawa.
#143 – 6th March 2013
Capt. Koichi saw many flowers blossom in the sky each time an enemy airplane was hit by warships friendly fire. Red spring was over Okinawa.
#144 – 7th March 2013
Capt. Koichi remembered cherry trees in Tokyo, his parents proud of him. He smiled “We’re going from ashes to ashes”. Dust was over Okinawa.
#145 – 8th March 2013
Capt. Koichi addressed a prayer to his life’s most important women: Ikue his mother and Mitsue his bride. Love was falling all over Okinawa.
#146 – 10th March 2013
Capt. Koichi saw the landscape being ripped in abstract scene with lots of red, brown, yellow flashes. A painter was taking over of Okinawa.
#147 – 11th March 2013
Capt. Koichi wrote a love letter to Mitsue, “probably the last one”, he thought. Time stopped. A kind sadness fell down gently over Okinawa.
#148 – 12th March 2013
Capt. Koichi told me after the war: “my last letter reached her before Mitsue vanished in the great fire of Tokyo.” He went back to Okinawa.
#149 – 13th March 2013
Capt. Koichi told me also: “everyday I miss her, she is always in my mind, will always be”. He is an old man now, forever locked in Okinawa.
#150 – 14th March 2013
Un cygne noir est entré dans sa vie. Il a déployé ses ailes et plus rien n’est comme avant. «Au milieu de la vie, nous sommes dans la mort».
#151 – 15th March 2013
She first appeared in his dreams like a distant queen. Then, gradually, she took over of him, night and day. Invasion of the body snatchers.
#152 – 16th March 2013
I smile to a man’s forward looking gaze, who sixty years ago met a black swan, swapped one route for another, leading to me. Thanks father !
#153 – 17th March 2013
Winter 43. My father is a young soldier, standing up protecting an empty border. He is lucky. He knows something big happened in Stalingrad.
#158 – 18th March 2013
“There are no good choices, only lesser Evils” said the Teacher. “You should follow Life’s path replied the Wiseman, where love enlightens”.
#159 – 20th March 2013
I’ve got a strange feeling; death is roaming the land, making circles around me. Man in the high castle, I’m choosing the alternate reality.
#160 – 20th March 2013
“All could stop at the snap of a finger, between two breathes” thought the writer in the high castle. One second between you, and emptiness.
#161 – 20th March 2013
And yet, realized the prisoner in the high castle, all I want is swap my life, for this promise of eternity, this last second with you. One.
#162 – 20th March 2013
And Zero. On his laptop one could read the last words of the writer: “end of transmission”. His body lay on the ground, a smile in the face.
#163 – 20th March 2013
Found the guy clinically dead, painted all over the skin by red hues and blue kisses, and his majesty standing up proudly for a last hurrah.
#164 – 21st March 2013
And the white knight on his stallion jumped over the battalion of his foes bringing with him to a bright new high-castle his Queen of Heart.
#165 – 24th March 2013
Circling around Solaris, the travelers' deepest desires raise from the ashes of their burned lives. Let me know who I am, my skin, my ocean.
#166 – 25th March 2013
Camille pleure son génie perdu sous les rocs blancs de l'asile, où la folie de Paul la condamne, à n'être que cendres de Femme brûlée vive.
#167 – 2th April 2013
Multiple shocks of high magnitude, in quick succession centered around him, heart quake of a sort, and he is still standing up? Just a bit !
#168 – 4th April 2013
Look carefully, each strip of black reflects light in a different way. It's the secret I'd share. Life stripped away from naked colors. See?
#169 – 4th April 2013
What's the question to start the coaching process? That's the question. Find out the light? Remove doubts? Make peace with me? Know Thyself.
#170 – 5th April 2013
The sun is ripping the mist over the Docklands. Canary Wharf's towers unfold like a popup book. My plane is shortly landing. London calling.
#171 – 5th April 2013
The existential question is being there. I need to face the two faces of it: the excitement or the anxiety of moving my feet out of comfort.
#172 – 6th April 2013
Looking at the wonders of the Giant Aquarium, she extends her arms, ready to jump, to dive with sharks. She is ready. Flying soon for Dubai.
#173 – 7th April 2013
Yes she said. Yes. One word in a lifetime. He approached carelessly, dived into the nectar. The flower' soft wings embraced the insect. End.
#174 – 7th April 2013
Nothing is more boring than a gate. "Come here passengers. Gate change !". Something's got to happen. Rows of humans, waiting to Exfiltrate.
#175 – 18th April 2013
The network was expanding every day, a global call to stand up and fight for the common good. Voice after voice, we joined mankind's chorus.
#176 – 23rd April 2013
Don't let your life agenda be filled by other people told the coach. There's no change without anxiety. The man nodded, then quietly jumped.
#177 – 27th April 2013
Painting the world only with black will reveal the essence of all colors, hidden lights, the purpose of the full spectrum, visible, and not.
#178 – 27th April 2013
Fortune comes and goes above waters, wrecking ships, sending lucky ones to Byzantium, but never had if so strongly send me up, to the skies.
#179 – 28th April 2013
Can't believe it, I'm driving a big truck from Phoenix Arizona to Santa-Fe New Mexico, with lots of friends and country music playing aloud.
#180 – 29th April 2013
She takes the thinly cut piece of raw fish between the chopsticks, slowly coats its surface with wasabi, rolls it with rice. Sushi ceremony.
#181 – 30th April 2013
The student had lost her document and felt miserable. I gave her my last USB key, we talked a bit. She reminded me slightly, of my daughter.
#182 – 30th April 2013
Like a current of warm air, breezing all over my heart, whenever my fingers caressed her hands, fondled her face, she smilingly disappeared.
#183 – 3rd May 2013
Prepare yourself to stand up in front of your Lord, said the priest, beware the Jabberwocky! Little Alice flew underground to meet her fate.
#184 – 4th May 2013
Little Alice wanders in the valley of the shadows, looking at all wonders on the meadows, chasing red rabbit's holes, saying "Hello, Death".
#185 – 5th May 2013
I've seen Little Alice tonight. She turns on the pages of her life and reads them aloud to a muted public. Performance, thanks to Chantal A.
#186 – 6th May 2013
Little Alice loves convertible cars & high-tech gadgetry. She speaks in tongues, while her mother tries to keep her quiet, listen to poetry.
#187 – 6th May 2013
Climbing on the ladder of proficiency levels, Little Alice casts fireballs towards her foes wearing black suits and ties, CNN talking heads.
#188 – 7th May 2013
But at the end, Little Alice awakes, eats corn flakes, kisses her mother, takes the bus school. The white rabbit sadly, is waving hands too.
#189 – 10th May 2013
From the depths of ancient forests, from the graves of scorched deserts, comes out a lament of blood and ashes, natives of the world unite.
#190 – 10th May 2013
She sang, filled in hearts, chased fears. I was flying with the eagle, circling across the canyons and lakes of the Great Spirit. Back home.
#191 – 11th May 2013
Connecting all my parts is a life's purpose. How could I achieve it instantly I asked her. "Body, Mind, Spirit & Soul: find them in poetry."
#192 – 12th May 2013
Awakening on a lost island, two months after the tempest rush, Captain Me starred on the wrecked ship wondering wether he could ever fix it.
#193 – 13th May 2013
I want to go back home, to the land where I fit like a tree in the ground. Where's that asked the police. In the new 'New World' of my soul.
#194 – 15th May 2013
Melanie looked smashing in her green-colored suit. Bathed in light, she starred at the window, smoked cigarettes, scripting a tragic future.
#195 – 19th May 2013
24 writers were gathered in St-Germain des Prés to restore traditions of literary salons, to light up imagination, thanks to Lady Butterfly.
#196 – 23rd May 2013
The writer could not cope anymore with the mood swings paid cash after each heartbeat, each feeling. He needed to bring a final point to it.
#197 – 28th May 2013
"Dead men are not sleeping": he looked furious I told this but I was so late to catch up a flight I could not tell him better. Sorry father.
#198 – 10th June 2013
I will bury you at Thebes, against the Gods, against all odds, against inhuman laws I will bury you, and will vanish as a bird into the air.
#199 – 18th June 2013
So long my friend "Dante", we'll call a witch doctor to cure the curses from your lost soul ; no hope of easy way, it'll be a long way home.
#200 – 19th July 2013
So, is it my turn now? The man looked nervous. Attached to him was a sign: I am a Burger. Behind him a crowd of hungry people gently queued.
#201 – 31st August 2013
How many tweets did you count? Before you asked me, exactly 666. OMG! Let's move forward quickly. Yes. Go: 1, 2, 3... up to 140: 667. Saved.