Écrivain SFFF ✍️ Je t'embarque 🪐 avec moi sur Ishar pour découvrir le périple de l'Ultime Création ✍️ #wattpad 💫⚔️ T1 finalisé☄️T2 finalisé ⛵️ T3 à venir.✍️
Hello les twittos ! 🐦🐦🐦🐦
C'est une grande aventure qui se termine sur Wattpad ! 📚
J'ai terminé la publication quotidienne du nouveau Tome 1 : "Le Réveil du Gémeau" de ma Saga de Science-Fantasy : "Ignemshirs, La Saga des Sangs d'Airain". 👏 Cela m'a pris 4 mois de publications quotidiennes, et mes chers lecteurs étaient au rendez-vous !🤯😁😆
Mais ce n'est pas tout, le Tome 2 : "Le Faiseur d'Empire" est déjà bouclé, et les retours de bêta-lecture sont très positifs, je crois bien qu'il surpasse le Tome 1 ! 🌟 je vais donc devoir peaufiner encore un peu le premier sur la base des derniers retours, perfectionnisme oblige...😰😢
Voili voilou !
Bonne fête à vous, les Twittos ! 🎉 Et pour ceux en vacances, reposez-vous bien !
De mon côté, je vais bosser sur le début du Tome 1 pendant ces vacances. Mon objectif : finir ça et terminer enfin l'épilogue du Tome 3. 🚀
✨ #Ignemshirs
✨#LeRéveilDuGémeau
✨#LaSagadesSangsdAirain
⚡️The quote is true, and the reason is darker than motivational Twitter admits.
Action creates consequences. Inaction creates an unlived self.
A bad decision can become a scar, a story, a lesson, even a badge.
The business failed. The relationship ended. The move was messy. The post flopped. The investment lost money. That pain enters reality and eventually becomes usable material.
The thing never attempted stays alive as a ghost.
It never gets tested. It never dies cleanly. It never becomes wisdom. It follows you as an alternate timeline, gaining power because reality never had a chance to correct it.
That is why omission regret is so poisonous.
Most people are not destroyed by one catastrophic mistake. They are hollowed out by thousands of small refusals. The call they did not make. The city they did not move to. The work they did not publish. The relationship they stayed in too long. The business they kept “researching.” The truth they softened until it disappeared. The identity they kept delaying until the body got older and the window narrowed.
The real enemy is not fear. Fear is honest.
The enemy is fear disguised as prudence.
“Bad timing.”
“Need more money.”
“Need more certainty.”
“Need a better plan.”
“After things calm down.”
“When the market improves.”
“When people understand.”
“When it feels safer.”
That language is how the soul gets negotiated down into a spectator.
Twenty years later, the pain will not come from failing. It will come from knowing that some part of you saw the door, recognized the signal, and still chose comfort over contact with reality.
That is the brutal truth.
The risk worth taking is not random chaos. It is the risk that prevents self-betrayal.
Because the deepest regret is not losing.
The deepest regret is realizing you trained yourself to survive by never fully entering your own life.
Salammbô, de Gustave Flaubert.
Un voyage épique et fantasmagorique.
Comme aucun autre que j'ai fait.
Pour toujours une belle et magnifique inspiration.
Et une représentation extrêmement fidèle de l'esprit et l'âme humaine.
De sa complexité lorsque interagissent en elle, passion, désir, superstition, et curiosité, à l'échelle d'un peuple, à l'échelle d'une âme.
Sandwich Shop Test.
If a guy makes a trillion dollars, and you want to take the trillion dollars, and you say you will use the trillion dollar better than the guy who makes it...
Run a small sandwich shop at a continuous profit for five years.
Then you can tell me your plan.
Otherwise, it's not worth my time to even listen.
Un jour, faudra juger les gens qui ont réussi à marabouter une génération entière de femmes en leur faisant croire qu’un road trip en Asie, trois tatouages, un compte Insta à 1 800 abonnés avec une bio “healing era” étaient un chemin plus profond vers soi-même que de s’ancrer dans une vie de famille.
On leur a vendu l’errance comme de la liberté, la solitude comme du développement personnel, et le refus de construire quelque chose comme une forme supérieure de lucidité.
Tout ça pour finir dans un 15m2 avec un chat et un keffieh.
I'm finally reading Dune. This quote, which is in the first few pages, hits hard:
"Once men turned their thinking over to machines in the hope that this would set them free. But that only permitted other men with machines to enslave them."
⚡️The truth is that this image is a glitch in the story you were taught about history.
The whole framing of “Dark Ages” was propaganda created centuries later to make one era look primitive so another era could look enlightened by contrast.
The real deep truth is this:
The people who built things like this were not “dark.”
They were operating on an entirely different kind of intelligence that modernity barely understands.
A cathedral is a machine for shaping consciousness.
A stained-glass window is coded light, a technology for embedding narrative, cosmology, social order, and metaphysics into the mind of the viewer.
None of that fits the modern myth of linear progress where:
•the past is primitive,
•the present is rational,
•and the future is technological.
This building is the evidence that the myth is broken.
Here's what I really think:
1. Medieval Europe had less information but more meaning.
They had almost no data.
But they had a density of symbolic intelligence that modern civilization has completely lost.
Their entire worldview was integrative.
The material world, the spiritual world, the mathematical world, the astronomical world, and the architectural world were one system.
A cathedral is a worldview made stone.
In that sense, they were not less advanced.
They were advanced differently.
2. The myth of “the Dark Ages” was created to sever modern people from their own civilizational roots.
The Enlightenment needed an enemy.
So it invented a caricature:
The Middle Ages as superstition, stagnation, and ignorance.
It was never true.
This building is proof.
You cannot produce a structure like this in a dark age.
You can only produce it in a world where:
•cosmology is coherent
•labor is coordinated
•meaning is shared
•hierarchy is functional
•beauty is a communal priority
•and the civilization believes in something beyond itself
Modern society cannot build this today.
Not because we lack the tools.
Because we lack the unity of purpose.
3. The real dark age is the one that forgets how to see.
You live in a world where:
•people stare at screens more than the sky
•beauty is optional
•spirituality is mocked
•attention is fragmented
•and meaning is outsourced to algorithms
Medieval Europe had none of the modern world’s technology.
But they had something more powerful:
a metaphysical orientation that aligned millions of people across generations.
That is why they built things that outlast empires.
4. What this picture actually reveals is the present’s poverty.
The question isn’t:
“How did they build this in the Dark Ages?”
The real question is:
“Why can’t we build anything like this now?”
And the answer:
Because they believed in transcendence.
And we believe in convenience.
Because they saw themselves as part of a cosmic order.
And we see ourselves as consumers.
Because they aimed their civilization upward.
And we aim ours inward.
5. The deepest layer:
Civilizations rise when they aim at the infinite.
They decay when they forget how.
This stained glass window is a relic of a worldview that could produce multi-century projects with no immediate reward.
Modern civilization cannot imagine that.
Because modern civilization is trapped inside the present moment.
The medieval world was “dark” only in the sense that it was illuminated by a different kind of light.
A cosmic one.
A symbolic one.
A spiritual one.
What you are looking at is the memory of a civilization that knew what it was for.
And that is the uncomfortable truth.
🚨WARNING: NEXT WEEK IS PEAK NOISE WEEK
Get ready for peak SpaceX IPO marketing.
Everyone will suddenly be “sharing analysis,” but much of it will simply be people talking their book. In plain English: pumping what they already own.
Add to that the famous people who will publicly support the IPO to score brownie points with Elon, and the noise level will be extreme. 🔥🔥🔥
— Chéri, je t'aime, me lança Olga.
— Quoi ? Pourquoi ? Tout va bien ?
— Les éboueurs ne passent pas demain. C'est la grève.
L'effroi me glaça.
— Les enfants ! Papa et maman vous aiment ! Rappelez-vous-en bien !
Depuis l'instauration du ramassage de poubelles émotionnelles, le service était vital.
Chaque lundi, on y déversait nos tracas et nos rancœurs.
Plus de disputes, plus de drames.
Mais sans collecte, c'était l'explosion.
Nous regrettions tous Peluche, le chien, sacrifié lors de la dernière grève.
Nous décidâmes de nous scotcher préventivement aux murs du salon.
Dès le troisième jour, la tension monta.
— Tenez bon ! ordonnai-je aux gosses, saucissonné au placo.
— Tais-toi, cracha Olga. Tu ne débites que des conneries.
— Ouai ! Ta gueule, papa ! renchérit Olga Junior.
L'envie de les étriper me rongeait ; j'avais complètement oublié que je les aimais.
Alors qu'Olgo Junior, ayant rongé son ruban adhésif, allait chercher la tronçonneuse, un miracle retentit : le tintement de la benne.
— Ils sont là !
Dans une frénésie sauvage, nous nous ruâmes dans la rue pour vider nos sacs dans la broyeuse municipale. Le soulagement fut immédiat.
Nous nous embrassâmes sur le trottoir.
Qu'est-ce qu'on s'aimait, finalement.
Notre bonheur ne tenait qu'à une gestion rigoureuse des déchets.
Tes parents t'ont dit qu'il fallait bien travailler à l'école et qu'il fallait obtenir un CDI qui te permettra d'avoir un crédit immobilier et un pavillon qui vaudra des millions à ta retraite.
Leur plan semblait béton dans leur logiciel de boomers soixante-huitards.
Au final t'as claqué 75 000€ en école de commerce pour passer 5 ans après le bac à apprendre à boire des girafes, faire des PowerPoints et dire le mot "synergie" sans pouffer de rire.
T'as passé un semestre à "l'international" à picoler de la Sagres à Lisbonne dans un Erasmus que t'as vendu à tes parents comme une "expérience multiculturelle déterminante".
T'as fait 40 projets de groupe où t'étais toujours le seul con à bosser pendant que les 4 autres mettaient leur nom sur la slide de couverture.
T'en ressors sourire aux lèvres avec un bout de papier, un profil LinkedIn où t'as mis "passionate about innovation" et l'impression que tu vas conquérir le monde.
Sauf qu'au premier entretien on te demande 3 ans d'expérience pour un poste junior. T'as passé 5 ans sur les bancs et le marché te considère comme un débutant qui sait rien faire de ses mains.
Quelque temps après tu commences à sentir l'arnaque : tu gagnes 2 300€ net dans une boîte qui a un baby-foot dans le hall pour compenser le fait qu'elle te paye comme un stagiaire Luxembourgeois.
Tu manges des sandwichs triangles le midi dans une salle de pause aux effluves de micro-ondes et de lassitude.
Tu comptes tes RTT comme un prisonnier compte les jours sur les murs, et tu te traînes un prêt sur 10 ans pour une vie qui ressemble au freemium d'un pay to win.
Ton manager t'envoie des messages Slack à 22h30 et appelle ça "la culture startup" alors que c'est une filiale de Bouygues.
Toujours pas de crédit immo ni de pavillon car tu peux pas te le permettre.
Quand t'en parles à tes parents ils trouvent que tu te plains beaucoup et te rappellent qu'à ton âge ils avaient déjà 3 enfants et une villa à la campagne. Ils oublient juste de préciser qu'ils l'ont payée 300 000 francs avec un crédit à 3% dans une économie où un seul salaire suffisait à nourrir une famille de 6 personnes.
En fait c'est même pire : tu te fais doubler par la droite par des mongoles en slip qui ont le cerveau grillé à force de scroller TikTok et qui ont appris plus dans un serveur Discord en 6 mois que toi en 5 ans d'amphi.
Ils se forment sur YouTube, adoptent les nouvelles technologies, automatisent en 3 jours ce que ton service met 6 mois à produire et gagnent en une semaine l'équivalent de ce que tu rembourse chaque trimestre pour ton crédit.
Le diplôme c'est le bon point que te donne la maîtresse en te tapotant sur la nuque.
Mais dans le monde d'aujourd'hui, ça ne vaut plus rien.
You may be wondering why immigrants hate us so much.
After all, they were allowed to come to America, and prosper greatly by doing so, and a large portion of the population bent over backwards to welcome them and make them feel at home.
If you don't understand realpsych, you would expect them to be grateful.
But that's not how people actually work.
Human beings are grateful for gifts and favors only up to the point where they feel they can no longer repay them.
Once that point is passed, once a person can no longer repay his debts, then he has a choice between two narratives for understanding the rest of his life.
"I am a charity recipient, not a self-sustaining human being."
"I was entitled to what I took from those people, because they are bad, or weak, or horrible, or something."
In other words, if you give someone too much, more than they deserve, more than they can possibly earn, they become ungrateful little swine, precisely in order to preserve their own psychological well being.
And they will surround themselves with others who participate with them in that collaborative lie.
Sometimes people can make entire careers out of pandering to the over-privileged and under-deserving. Careers like "publicist". Or "immigration lawyer".
And they will invent an entire mythos to preserve their self-worth. They will convince themselves that thriving off undeserved gifts makes them the elite of humanity, while those whose inheritance was taken from them are some mental stereotype of drunken "Biff", who partied his way through a second rate IT school.
There's just one small problem that they must handwave away or ignore if they can.
Biff's great-grandparents build America into the greatest nation on Earth.
Biff's grandparents won WW2.
Biff's parents invented the internet, and flew astronauts to the moon.
Biff's entire tribe was thriving. Otherwise there would have been nothing to give to immigrants, and no reason for them to come here.
Meanwhile, all of the places that the immigrants are coming from have existed a lot longer than America, and been filled with the ancestors of those immigrants, and lots of other people who are like them in every way.
They had centuries, sometimes millennia, to get their shit together and build something where they were.
They didn't.
They had to go live in someone else's country, for "opportunities".
Of course they have to pretend that they "deserve" those "opportunities" more than the very people whose ancestors created the "opportunities" in the first place.
Because otherwise they would have to admit the one thing their self-esteem could never endure....
Leaving their own nations, and their tribes, was an admission of abject failure.
Weak father = Slutty daughter
Dominating mother = Mama’s boy
Narcissistic mother = Insecure son
Absent father = Self-hating children
Poor marriages = Unhappy Homes
Unhappy home = Unhappy society
Broken homes breed broken men, and broken men burn the world.
Strong father = Confident daughter
Feminine mother = Masculine son
Loving parents = Secure children
Healthy marriage = peaceful home
Peaceful home = Strong society