lundi 1 janvier 2007

The Perks of Being a Wallflower



Et puis pendant ces interminables heures d'avion (qui valaient bien la peine, je vous le concède !), j'ai lu le livre que Liz m'a envoyé pour Noël, The perks of being a wallflower, de Stephen Chbosky.

Charlie écrit des lettres à un inconnu, pendant un an.

Dear Friend,
I am writing to you because she said you listen and understand and didn't try to sleep with that people at that party even though you could have. Please don't try to figure out who she is because then you might figure out who I am, and I really don't want you to do that. I will call people by different names or generic names because I don't want you to find me. I didn't enclose a return address for the same reason. I mean nothing bad by this. Honest.
I just need to know that someone out there listens and understands and doesn't try to sleep with people even if they could have. I need to know that these people exist.

Pas facile d'avoir quinze ans et d'entrer en seconde quand on a tout du perfect jerk, et qu'on a des problèmes psychologiques dont on ignore encore la source... Difficile de comprendre la vie en société, la sexualité croissante et les affaires de famille...

So I decided to find another place to go and figure out why people go there. Unofrtunately, there aren't a lot of places like that. I don't know how much longer I can keep going without a friend. I used to be able to do it very easily, but that was before I knew what having a friend was like. It's much easier not to know things sometimes.

Et pourtant, tout expliqué avec des mots simples, c'est encore plus touchant...

That's when I started thinking about my sister.
(...) And when she started becoming a « young lady », and no one was allowed to look at her because she thought she was fat. And how she really wasn't fat. And how she was actually very pretty. And how different her face looked when she realized boys thought she was pretty. And how different her face looked the first time she really liked a boy who was not on a poster on her wall. And how her face looked when she realized she was in love with that boy.

Girls like guys to be a challenge. It gives them some mold to fit in how they act. The thing is some girls think they can actually change guys. And what's funny is that if they actually did change them, they'd get bored. They'd have no challenge left. You just have to give girls some time to think of a new way of doing things, that's all. Some of them will figure it out here. Some later. Some never.

It's just hard to see a friend hurt this much. Especially when you can't do anything about it except « be there ». I want to make him stop hurting but I can't. So, i just follow him around when he wants to show me his world.

Un petit air de L'Attrape-Coeur...

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