Is Emily 18 Actually 18

September / October

On 3 September 1996. My love
mystical
few echoes of your kisses and here I am pumped ... Tomorrow, the latest action, easiest, before knowing if I am master of letters ... You, my Sander, you're already a doc love Sc ... Courage for the rest ...
Here we are in phase for the union, no more than acting out ... [...]
Soon my tender 27 years ... I hope and rebirth.
My deepest kisses.

************ Thursday, September 5
really more on a roll this Journal ... instead become a very episodic synopsis. Lack of desire, spirit? Likely. Correspondence with my Sander and the memory of modern literature that I just do not give help matters.
I support my work next week: in fact mere formality, a small interview with Marc D., my thesis director.
Confirmation of the publication of my study in OELH. Maybe I also would send a few major publishers in Paris.
Still looking good with me divinely Sander received the third weekend of August. Happened on Friday night, Sander warned all his attention touched me: lovely words (up to a "Welcome my love" and a big kiss on the ice bath), small gifts, dinner table beautifully drawn and charming, long and intense moments of love. No possible doubt, it makes me feel good, and I love it.
On 12 September she will be 27 years ... we will be bound at a distance.
The news has really nothing exciting. Anathema in the new Big Media : pedophilia following a tragedy in Belgium. The aptly named Dutroux author of various crimes: kidnapping, murder, pedophilia and ... lies! And the inspector called Belgian Jean-Marie Boudin!
In my old professor John R. the phone. I told him he would be one of dedicatees of my work. I felt moved. He retained his mental alertness and seems to agree with me on current problems of society. ************

September 5, 1996.
My sweetheart love,
Rocked by the rail rate, I give a moment Journal Karl Juliet for you blacken the single sheet blank with me. To which countries
intoxicating yet thou hast brought my Sander, the initiator me your madness ... What good to feel abandoned mine and other inflexible.
I hope that our merger distance doped thee to your event. Your little flower basket
worms Sandrien really touched me. You are gifted my sweet.
Sometimes it is terrible to leave everyone satisfied in his desires at bay. The flesh, breath, perfume, juices taste of love ... this allows any size without equal. Lions us
my Sander. ************

September 5, 1996. My favorite
Sander,
soon returned to the castle, my tray has the abundance of your attention: four letters to me. You spoil me, my dear. Your
anxieties were rubbing off on me last night. I was not jouasse ... I care for you and I feel a bit helpless face all your problems.
Ta 'design for the marital union suits me perfectly. Believe that the success of our duality does not depend on administrative or religious convolutions.
Hey hey ... you find "heartbreaking" some of my thoughts, but yes my Sander, I will stop at nothing to be surprised.
We are in a Christian civilization, the influences are so normal ... Finally, I will not elaborate more.
I love you well woman fountain and my eardrums are all excited.
Tell you my way of thinking is not in me a desire to destabilize you. I do not have any interest.
For skiing, you have free time, but without me ... I'm not going to fool around starting at my age ... As if I learned the roller skates. I do not
will celebrate my birthday, so no family convenience for me ... rather financial. Your card
The Kiss is beautiful, and the words written give me greedy desires and possessive ... Never get tired of our meetings carnal. For books
sulfur: I advise you Philosophy in the boudoir of the Marquis de Sade. Nicely browned.
Like the turn nasty in our relationship. Despite the distance, the maintenance of our desires and impulses fueling our meetings with a singular intensity. Important
continue our complicity in love and shelved any grip. Let
full range of our desires into action. Tell me what you have in the depths.
You're certainly more endearing.
1:48 p.m.. I quit my wrist and back to my perverse pursuits. [...]
Tenderly devourer of Sander. ************

September 7, 1996.
Oh my Sander,
Lying on your bed, I slip under your crisp sheets. Your body and your rump open burning sticks to my cock erected. The instinct seizes us and our dance is performed in a carnal rhythm sulfur. My
Sander [...], my imagination animates in all postures. Sage
I am, I remain wise. Oh my
sexually mine ... [...] ************

September 9, 1996.
My sexy,
So I am not cheeky enough for you, hey hey. Should qu'ça wet, qu'ça jute qu'ça piss everywhere to start t'émoustiller. You
the indomitable here you are in sulfurous Devil.
Your words lull me my Sander, and all your dreams will soon take shape.
Believe in us and build. Love me above all beyond you, let me come before anything else. This is my absolute
drug invigorating.
greedily want. ************

Tuesday, September 10
0:15. As a service to a college girlfriend. I hit a piece of his memory on a facet of the writing of Marguerite Duras. This writer, whom I had never read, reminds me of the dirty habit of modern painters who make a change for the defacement of art. The degradation form as the word ... And me too, too late, too bare ... News
no longer holds my attention a bit. With a string of speeches to more showy, tired policies. The layer of clichés is too thick to feed the audience informed. My
Sander at tel. Very sweet and naughty time. It does me good. I must return to its nest on September 19 evening. We go together by car for Fontes.
I read, among other things, the first volume of the Journal Karl Juliet. Many things in relation to the world today make my face down, and I still very sensitive. A self-centered despair. ************

September 10, 1996. Tender
Sander,
Midnight forty-eight and I have not yet joined Morpheus.

I look again Love and garland of flowers Carlo Maratta that you sent me: warm colors of one night in a trance ... Our
"carnal dimension" has once again proved magnificently, despite hundreds of miles between us. [...]
Grrr ... still talking to me cars ... Grab yourself a mechanic 'god! (Heh heh).
I actually desperately need a constructive Sander, transcendent, joyful, growing. I try to help rais-up in the trials that you meet, but grant me your absolute confidence ... and do not see our future model. No Fatalitas that takes. We get along wonderfully
, we are best able to enjoy each other. What do you want more? Maybe a big puff ... I thought that my Braquemart you enough. My
more insightful thoughts for you ...

************
On 11 September 1996. My
Sander twenty-seven in spring
This replica of the castle at the beginning of the century especially for you.
In tribute to your kindness and your love.
All my love for you. ************

Paris, September 14, 1996. My
Sander to be pampered,
[Did you know that there was a famous monastic school at Laon in the Middle Ages?] You'll learn
Laon on ... I assume she stood (logically) in the monastery that now houses the library : Magnificent building still imbued with the serenity needed for meditation.
[You do not have your birthday party? No cake, candles and gifts? It is you who imposes this choice?]
I do not really party. Finally, it depends on the opportunities ... I'm a little out of it ... but I always get different expectations.
[I have already read Sade (Justine) but it's too S & M (it goes up Murder!) And it does not turn me on at all, c is disgusting even this profusion of suffering.]
I think Philosophy in the boudoir not spread too hemoglobin. [...]
I feel a little heavy this morning from the pen ... I'm not going to persist in scribbling nonsense.
Soon our reunion ... As I will be next Thursday in Paris to see my thesis director, I take a train earlier in the evening to give us a night longer to fill our appetites. A
you read and take you. Voraciously. ************

September 15, 1996.
In my sleep, my Sandre, these few notes to get close to you.
Am I so heavy spirit that I have not detected any signs that make your love one rule above all else? Forgive me ... I have no doubt a tad ... Say my pen slipped.
I will show you my support in your worries far different. T'adoucir up to the trials that await you. That's my Sander ... How do I ... Hopefully the issue will be positive. This is your rebirth.
All my love. ************

September 24, 1996. My
Sander,
Departing for Laon is for me to congratulate you for your pen viva student success. That it awakens in you a hint of confidence in your abilities.

I read the letters that you sent me last week: I am literally rocked by the love you infuse. But I remain puzzled about the difference between the overflowing love which is manifested in your letters in our carnal intimacy, and the behavior sometimes almost remote model that certain periods of the rare moments we shared. That he would reserve a right that you impose on you (which sometimes gives way to a semi-aggressive in public) or is it because of my attitude unbearable appear to you? No reproach in this thinking-questioning, just the desire to better understand yourself better t'appréhender.
I kiss you without restraint. ************

Thursday, September 26, 1996 The last weekend with my grandmother to do, with Sander. Presence of my uncle Paul and his friend I had not seen for ten years. I have absolutely nothing to do with the birth family. Execrable little time and atmosphere meet my expectations.
My grandmother very much diminished physically, is very nice from Sander and me. ************

Train coral, October 2, 1996. My
Sander,
I resume the pen after a few days of abandonment. Our quarrel had a meaning? The failure of my proposal would tend to confirm this night. It is important not only wins the gloomy report.
We live the best moments of our love, according to the literature that addresses this issue. The intoxication of expectation, desire multiplied, the absence of any tarnishing daily, etc.. But maybe I do not live with you that moments of duality, without immersion in any world whatsoever? I may not be able to for your actions in public. Your self-respect to remain strong, stronger than your pride you feel, I can ask you this absolute duty to reserve. True
I miss you and I want a perpetual renewal of our complicity, as the very strange, we had had for several weeks in 1992, without being seen, admitted openly and without feeling. A
I also do not breathe the gravity darkening and minor things. To you, my Sander, to be more generous, not in your care to me that are wonderful, but in the background. Difficult to explain the characteristic of a woman for me is whether to erase, at times, wants to exist before his love of being chosen. A little confused
all that, I'm sorry. I look forward to seeing you again.
I kiss you everywhere.

************ On October 4, 1996. My
Sander,
Very touched by your two beautiful cards. The melody of your feelings enchants. I hope you recover very quickly with these fresh attention.
Photos of Sander little one with her adorable little face and her cute panties: what more?
I started to blue [ color of ink used ] for a while. The work multiplies ... I do not feel very creative with my emails. I'm going to shake me a bit if I want to be attractive.
My letters could also address current issues, which easily replace my Journal .
Pending hold you, big kisses.

************ On October 5, 1996. My
Sander,
Whacked in the train that takes me back to the big Lutece, the day did not drag. Karl and I mop Laon, Soissons and surrounding areas for the introduction of our latest publications, including a monumental History of Soissons , 1176 pages, 348 F. ..
Tomorrow at successive visits pater-mater for my twenty-seven years ... no room for complacency.
My expectation should be quickly satisfied. In less than a week we met in Paris in my nest. Promise us good things. Try not to forget the bottle of champagne.
With the commotion of media battle against pedophilia, equating moreover, in great confusion, the act murderer and the simple sexual abuse, I did last week an unpleasant nightmare, which had not happened long ago. I'll narrate orally. I kept your
criterium at the bottom of my bag: you bother to return.
Seminars DEA resume Oct. 21. I'll probably meet my obligations university on Tuesday and Wednesday. Mrs. M., who had noted my comments on "the drama critic of Mauritius Boissard in the inter-war period, has been in praise of me with Mark D. So I will not hesitate to make profit this year of my good company, hey hey!
you have become the almost exclusive recipient of my scribbles on paper, far exceeding my Journal aging in a corner.
I have a feeling of extreme indifference to the news. That does not push me to resume writing this scriptural witness. No soaring in this society that vacillates between barbarism and lethargy. What is coming in services Toubon the vane makes me shudder: the crime of opinion reinforced ... That may well be that would sharpen a pen, in the absence of blade.
I think of you my Sander. Thank you for your attention to my rantings late. ************

October 7, 1996. My
Sander,
Your coming will be honored for anything you want.
We go to the museum of the Middle Ages, but I want you to accompany me on Saturday afternoon to buy clothes. I'll take you to
Palet, or another restaurant on Saturday night. Spend sweet moments together.
My memory should have a shot to part of three hundred copies during the month.
Here you are reassured by your assignment. We can continue the pace of our interviews.
[Is the health of your heart is steady Dad?]
Yes, but it is dangerously fragile.
[Do you break with your parents?]
If my parents accept my choice of adoption, no rupture ... Otherwise ...
[Will you come see me, as you told me on the phone, the last weekend of October?]
I hope ... but nothing is certain.
Loving thoughts.
************

October 9, 1996.
Sander love, what sweet
letter I received this morning. It makes me hunger for our two-day meeting.
The cassette of Satie is very nice. Curiously, this composer's music makes me melancholy, while the titles are almost grotesque. Very good idea you'll be given the piano. But where will you play? I was disgusted with me Conservatory quite young, but not music. My musical ear improves my poor dexterity at the piano.
[You talk to me about your new memory?]
My topic for the Graduate School: Heim and pamphlet since 1950. I am at your disposal to tell you.
Until we tighten for real. I t'inscris my voracity. ************

October 18, 1996.
My sweet caring,
The surrounding misty monster of steel started to Lutetia irisent clarity emerging from a blue dawn. So much for poetic note.
I hope your holiday in Cannes, between large drops and shelves of beautiful late season, brought thee deserved rest and healing needed. The vile
Pople was still believed the center of the world yesterday. These masses of strikers shouting and shaking their inconsistent claims their lousy stench: two reasons to throw up. Why
man become sub-shit in any collective movement? Its very nature it did nothing more than these poor demonstrations annihilated-ment of any individual responsible?
Sorry for my gap Sander, but the rage inside me. At the powerlessness of the act, except to adopt the methods of the FLNC, is overrides the violence of the verb.
How to maintain itself a tad of passion in her relationship with the world except in no one escapes its germs of indignation?
And the judiciary continued its demolition company ... When will the trial judge defenestrated?
I kiss you tenderly.

************ October 20, 1996. Adorable
Sander,
You spoil me. In your very nice cards Cannes and precious water by Rochas, my senses are filled.

My Sunday fall ends. Sitting under a walnut tree in the castle, the cool damp earth and leaves in the butt, I searched the place looking for the nutritious kernels.
I hope to come to your nest Lyon the next weekend. Enjoy every second trying to perpetuate the moment.
Caught by sleep, I send my most affectionate thoughts.
In our embraces.

************ October 22, 1996.
My sweet night,
On a corner table of the new Sorbonne, I begin the clearing of emotions shared night.
Anecdote for the smile: a place me in the library literature department, has installed a young woman who sniffs damn armpits. The idea of wilderness, open nasal, has just taken a new dimension. The
yours are licking those of the day I raise almost heart. It fascinates me how a girl can exhale the old goat like that! After this detour
zoo, I gladly return to your dens scented ... where the flavor carnal wife hell enjoyable ... The transient voltage metaphysical work.
You did not even revealed in all your ... If the reservation does not snap forever ... I am not grieved. The Kapos
conformism prepare a law on the crime of opinion that we had deprived of essential works of Celine, a Rebatet, a Drumont ... It enrages me to this involution ... Let me do we accomplish at least through my work on the pamphlet heïmien, one of the most dazzling? I'll hold my
Sander.

************ October 29, 1996. My
Sander,
The storm has not been the sky falling on his head, but she continues to dance in the heavy foliage yellowed.
Hope your pain will pass ... well vaccinated against everything. [...]
We completed the final preparations for my book, index, table of contents ... I have the back cover.
I kiss you very hard ... to fast.

************ October 30, 1996. My
Sander,
Your letter of 28 seemed very serious. The episode of our attachment must be an opportunity for us to show some more mature in our relationship, and less thinking about pride. Stop before indulging in overbidding.
I would also like that on your side, you understand what I expect of you in your feelings and your generosity. I prefer that you express your grief as a sensitive woman you are, than you become Muslim aggression in cold. That you be with the others, yes, but not with me ...
We have, indeed, plenty to share ... and I find you with a constructive spirit. Our agreement shall continue ... and do not doubt your feelings, beyond mine.
A kiss. ************