ISFJ, True Neutral, 4w5, Spring, Saturn, 9 | 18 

she's the lover; the archivist; the one who remembers; she's the savior; of every little things; no one notices

As some might put it, I'm the one responsible for all this fucking mess.

So, hi, hello, I'm Lily, I happen to be French, which is both a curse and a blessing, like many things in my life; speaking of curses, I'm in my thirties and revisiting anatomy by discovering just how many bones in my back can hurt.

For most of my life, I've introduced myself as an artist, but having met many artists, I'm not so sure that's the case anymore; not because I don't create, but because I don't create for the sake of creating. I create because I have no other choice, because the words have to escape my brain somehow. Mostly, I write; sometimes I just try to, sometimes I feel like I have no idea what words even mean and sometimes I feel like I'm possessed by the ghost of a writer.

I describe myself as fictosexual because it would be more complicated not to. I'd rather be known as that girl who falls in love with 'fictional characters' than have my attachments mistaken for fandom enthusiasm.

I like writing, staring at ceilings, I like the smell of railway tracks when it's hot, summer, rain falling on rooftops, cats, medicine, aphorisms, taking baths, insects, I like dawn when it's already warm outside, talking to people no one else can see, unripe apricots, waltzes, looking at planes, thunderstorms during the day, I like rooms tucked beneath the eaves, and I like writing on paper that's perfectly suited to the situation.