Kimberly Ecrit

humeurs, histoires, et autres bla bla - c'est déjà ça

No filter

I enjoy listening to kid’s talk. Their questions seem very profound to me and I like to think, even though I have forgotten, that back in the days I had some interesting interrogations too.

Why is the sky blue, where do we go when we fall asleep, how do you make water.

Also they say what they think – when they can’t always think what they say – and I like the way they speak their words frankly.

You stink, I like that, I don’t want to go there.

The adults around stare wide-eyed open in surprise, they scold for the circumstance trying their best to hide a smile because it’s not something to be said but they find it funny tough.

As we grow up, with the help of propriety, living-together, mental development and education (or what we call it so) we became masters in beating around the bush.

Except when we are drunk.

Do you know the scene when someone quiet familiar or less addresses you his/her alcoholic speech and apologize or try to make amend the day after because that was the alcohol speaking? I don’t think so.

Alcohol may be a solid truth serum provided that you are not yourself wasted. Disinhibition helping booze dissolves our thoughts and filters while it increases our loggorhea and give room for unexpected revelations. In vino veritas, isn’t it?

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