Purogatoire

Invitation d'échec, Le carrelage noir et blanc scintille. L'odeur charnelle s'évapore, Je ne me sens plus... L'asceptisante atmosphère m'enivre. « Au suivant ! » s'esclame-t-on… Alice Everyman, 83 ans, entre dans la froide salle. On l'installe, la dépouille du peu qu'elle possède. « J'ai peur… » murmure-t-elle d'un timide souffle, « Nous sommes experts ! » ricane-t -on… Le temps suspendu présage l'après du maintenant. Précieux sont les moments d'avant, car Entière Alice Everyman encore est… Son corps fragile et décharnu se présente En proie aux yeux du Faux Dieu qui observe le corps, Tout en évitant du regard l'humaine s'offrant à lui Un deux trois… Alice Everyman se meurt un peu, beaucoup, pas du tout… Sur son Être, le Carnassier s'acharne maintenant… Mon humeur est Mélancholie… Les sombres fluides se rebellent. Violé dans son berceau, l'organe est maintenant arraché. L'Entité déracinée hurle dans la pièce maudite. Partie nulle dont personne ne sort vainqueur La carcasse git, une entaille sur le flan… Esseulée mon âme pleure la mutilation dite nécessaire du sujet Son essence souillée, Alice Everyman n'est plus.

Notre Mère priez pour nous

Les Hommes de Foi ont deserté la Terre Sainte, Servant de leur mieux les Froides Machines. La Lutte Abstraite pour un Pouvoir sans Visage, Fait d'eux des Êtres Génériques. Les Femmes, Noyée dans un Environnement n'étant guère le leur, Tue leurs Progénitures. Leurs Entrailles Déchirées pleurent encore l'Irréversible Acte. La promesse d'une Libération A très vite pris Forme d'un Pacte avec le Mal. Déracinés, leurs Seins moisissent dans les Mains du Chirurgien. Belle est la Technologie, Moderne est le Monde s'exclame t-ils Pendant que Miséricordieuse Mère Nature étouffe... J'hurle et Réclame la Paix Environnementale à Grands Cris... Mère Nature Veillez sur Nous Pardonnez-nous nos Offenses Comme nous pardonnons aussi Notre propre Inconscience Maintenant est l'Heure de Sagesse.

Schweitz on the Rise!!!

looks to me like "la droite" might win the Swiss elections. Ignorance combined with Arrogance has always been dangerous... Espacially when Power is given... I love my country and some of its History. I'm proud when I think of Mountain People who helped each other to escape Persecution from various Countries. We've been rebellious/stubborn to ideas imposed upon a mass, we've been environmentalist before it became a trend or a must. I like to think we created the Red Cross, promoted a healthy and simple Life style with Good Commun Sense and Herbal Remedies... I love my country but cannot help to think there is something Xenophobic about Switzerland. I had begin writting a play years ago called "How Heidi lost her Neutrality" It was about this Eastern European Babysitter coming in a Bourgeoise Swiss Family and through her virginal eyes was depicted a very Strange duplicitous country. I think that one of the biggest problem we Swiss people face is the lack of perspective/self-perception regarding our History and Identity. Of course every citizen of every country tends to suffer from Ethnocentrism. What worries me is this None-Awarness and Non-Objectivity regarding our sense of Superiority (or Inferiority masked by some Superiour Behavior)... We think of ourselves as Virginal/Neutral creatures therefore able to judge the good vs the bad. Maybe the Farmer within us is Insecure... We are so afraid to lose our privilege. Why so? What is it to lose when you kick out a Family with a 10 yrs old child who's only known his country of adoption he was born in? I'm an immigrant. I deserve to be treated fairly wherever I go. I don't view Immigration as a Choice. It is a Need; a Vivid Desire, an Urge, a Hope for a better life, a better chance... Being the Stranger/the Poor (the Minority in Fact) isn't Fun. If "la droite" wins, Forgive Naive Schweitz, for we do not know what we are doing.

Grand-Papa Dream

I was holding Grand-Pa's hand telling him everything will be O.K. The Chief Nurse was gathering the materiel. That's usually my job but I guess she was being considerate since it was Grand Pa. I was also telling Grand-Pa to be brave... This new revolutionarian technique was suppose to heal every Grand Pa's problem... The Chief Nurse started the procedure and all along I watched... She took Grand Pa vein thanks to a little cut inside his wrist and started to take out that same vein. As she was doing so, Grand Pa skin was unfolding. His entire arm was now wide open and the vein like a snake in the Chief Nurse's hand. Grand Pa, strong and proud, was screaming internally with sounds escaping his body here and there. His face was red and ready to burst. He's always been so tough. I was supposed to assist the Chief Nurse but I could only watch. Watch and Pray, my mantra being: Grand Pa be brave, please please...it won't last, please please... just another vein... The Chief Nurse was pulling out other veins now... Grand Pa's skin was like a volcano but all the hurting was coming out... My jaw was tensed. I wanted to scream, cry, stop this unnatural procedure but this was a new efficient treatment that'd solve everything. I had to be strong. For Grand-Pa. This beep sound kept coming on and on... Flinty alarm clock, Dreams are the only way I can spend Time with Grand-Papa, do not take that away from me. It's all too late : I'm awake.

Ô le chant de la pluie

Alienée je me sens, Toi là-bas, Moi ici, Me répéter sans cesse "se faire une vie ardente dans la ville froide..." Je souris aux inconnus génériques et anticipe leur répliques à venir... Étrangers invisibles et sans surprises, ne savez-vous donc pas que c'est d'exaltation que je vis? Elle est belle, sa voix cristalline... Je ne peux que l'aimer, je hais simplement le fait de ne plus être tienne... Ce souvenir encore vivide de ta main pressant mon bas ventre contre ton corps alors que nous regardions ce film français pourri dont tu ne comprenais de toute façon rien... Mon amie me dit plus jolie, certe l'amour n'a rien à voir avec la beauté... Je suis si loin, te sens si près d'elle... Mon chagrin est solitaire. Ici, personne ne nous a vu main dans la main... Aux yeux de ceux d'ici, tu es l'homme que je voyais là bas, pour moi celui que j'allais rejoindre un jour... J'ai reçu aujourd'hui mon compte de téléphone avec ton numéro dessus affiché tout partout. J'ai payé nos interrurbains très vite avec espoir que ma mémoire effacerait nos conversations par le fait même... Rêve évaporé... Là bas, mon amie cynique et incrédule, témoin de notre romance, qualifiait ton regard sur moi de celui d'un homme qui aime, mon autre amie, celle même de part qui nous nous sommes rencontrés, clame philosophiquement qui tout est une question de timing... C'est sûrement vrai, je suis ici, toi là bas... Il pleure dans mon coeur.

the Life of a Caring Man Forever Changed

tonight my patient died. I am home calm and serene. I think of my patient dying, my supervisor telling the family about her slowly going away and her husband breaking down... "We were gardening when it happened" he said... "I've lived with her my entire life" he also said... I cannot help but think of this man. A good man, a loving husband who loved his wife. Three days ago he was gardening with her and now what? How will he be tonight alone in a bed that still holds her smell? Can he breath without her? There is something about death that makes you feel really grounded. You can be unsecure, heartbroken, sad, depressed, yet you're alive... I feel strangely peaceful tonight. My Patient died tonight. May She Rest in Peace.

Needle Night

Tonight I did my first injection ever... The idea of doing so's always been surreal. Inserting a needle in someone's body seems violent and sadistic. I was scared, curious and intrigued by doing it and therefore couldn't wait to do it. I had these scenarios where I'd freeze or blow the vein... I was calm, in control and things went drama free (damn!)... My collegue dropped me off at the subway but I thought I'd walk instead. It's a beautiful night out! I'm sleep deprived, worked for 10 hours at the hospital and have faced many challenges... And now the Rain... The sky's shouting needles on us... A soothing transparent fluid's falling freely on my face...

Sharing Fluids

Today's my day off. I have to study for this last exam but also had planned to go buy a few things one of them being a case for my computer. So I figured taking the dogs along'd be an efficient way to run my errands and to walk them all at once. I went to this place far from home cause I knew they thought they'd have it. They didn't. Then remembered another place further carries it. Finally arrived, I realised they would not allow two dogs in their « how so fancy » store but luckely the store has a double entrance so I can leave them inside the first. So I grabbed the two dogs on each end. The fat one's not easily grabbable, he's jerky. I try to open the door with one finger and give a powerful swing to open the metallic door fast on which I BANG my TOE. It's the kind of pain that makes you want to kill someone, that is, if they'd be someone around. Well, I'm on a mission I need a computer case so I focus, scream inside, look at my toe and think : shit there's blood !, tie the dogs and walk in. There's a lot of cases… I cannot figure which one I should select. The dogs are fussy in the front. I am afraid to look at my foot cause I can feel myself walking on some fluid of mine. I look around, I need help… Too many sales people just procrastinating… I try to initiate some eye contact with them to tell them I need a f… case NOW… Nobody picks up on it. I look at my white flip flop and it's litterally red. I feel like fainting… NO, I walked all the way I need a case NOW… The dogs are agitated, I yell : « Can someone help me ? » Everybody gives me a mean look, this guy comes. I tell him I'm in a hurry I need a case for my comupter now, the cheap kind, anything… He ask me specifics about my computer… I tell him Mac 12 inch, he goes on a speech tengant on how macs and PCs fit the case differently… I interrupt him, tell him I don't care, to just find me something suitable NOW. He starts looking at the fancy one and flips the tag of each of them, starts commenting on how 13 inch's ok as well, my feet's glued to my flip flop cause of the blood viscosity. The dogs are vulnerable in the front :any nasty passenger might take them away…Some blood smell comes up my naustril. I yell again : « do you have kleenexes ? ». He stops his sales pitch. I cannot talk any longer so direct his attention onto my now red flip flop. His face's now paler, he goes to the box tissus and gives me 2 kleenexes. I bark : are you serious? rip the box off his hand, tear up douzains of tissues, leave the place limping and aimless. I cannot cover it up anymore, I'm not well… I grab the dogs…The sales guy comes out and tells me there's a clinic not so far. I walk towards it, the blood starts to spill on the floor, true, I can't go to a clinic with 2 dogs. I have to stop. I seat on some stairs, look for the first time at my foot, cannot tell where from it is that I'm bleeding, see pieces of bloats on the shoe. I need help… I struggle with the dogs, they relentlessly want to lick the shoe, my foot, this homeless dude aware of my condition come on to me for a light I give him a harsh no. I tells me I don't need to be so susceptible and that I should chill. I scream at him. He gets pissed off and starts spitting on his own hand. (I cannot believe my eyes, what is the guy up to now ? mixing his spit with my blood ?) I feel vulnerable, I scream to leave me the fuck alone… This street is filled with fithly people. Am I dead already or what ? I start crying, I'm in pain, I don't know how to stop the blood, the dogs, the homeless…the drug addicts…the whores… I need help… One of the dudes comes up to me, I'm not sure I have enough gusto left to punch him… I'm more in the what now kind of mood… He says, come in, I don't resist. I get in some strange building. He installs me in a puffy chair, ties the dogs and here comes this girl with a first aid case… She « glovelessly » cleans my foot and says nice things… I start laughing saying that for a nursing student I'm a bit of a pussy. Her face lights up as she tells me she's always dreamt to be a nurse. I cannot help but think that she'd do a much better job that I certainly would and want to tell her that THIS is her calling… This guy takes my shoe to go clean it and I stop him. It's blood covered, I mean I don't have any desease but still… at school we're brainwashed : our motto is : let's not share fluids ok ? That's when I ask where we are. A shelter she says… I stayed there for a while, wanted to leave cause tired to answer questions or hear comments such as : happened to one of my friend... You're shoe's ruined... or not, once home, clean it with bleach... you're from Europe ? that's a lot of blood you have on your shoe… Thankful I ran out from the place asap and was glad to have found a cab that'd accept 2 dogs. Waiting for the taxi the savior that got me into the shelter screams at the old whore that he would fuck her so well that she'd look 10 yrs yonger. He then winks at me thinking he's showed off his skills as a lover… The cab needs to come NOW… I'm home on my bed, I haven't clean my wound, I haven't look at it. I'm not moving. My heart is in my toe.

C’est peut-etre Mabelline

I'm feeling in love. C'est comme ca. It's happened all day... Nothing to do with a man, it's in the Air... I am Shining... I didn't woke up this way though... I dreamt that Mom was coming to pick me up so we'd go to the Cabin and I'd study surrounded by my Family. Woke up peacefully and content : Mom's coming!... was horrified to realise that I'm on the wrong side of the ocean for this to happen. Still in shock, I'm going to the outside world so the dogs can pee, mecanically check out my mail box where a letter from Home's awaiting : a beautiful loving letter from my Mom & Dad with a happy b-day drawing from my favorite and only Niece… (she's wishing happy b-day to both my dog and I)… this girl's awsome… she can even remember my dog's b-day ! Plus on the drawing my Dog and I are both smiling, my figure's astonishing, I'm well-dressed +« well-shoed », surrounded by Flowers and protected by our happy comforting friend, the Sun. Neitherless to say this made my day ! I got myself ready, felt empowered… and figured I owed it to my Niece to dress up the way she thinks of me. She once said I am beautiful. Nothing makes me happier to hear it from her cause her courage and determination inspire me… So I chose a beautiful dress, the shoes just like in the drawing. I went even further : wore Mascara. I mean since I'm here I'm figuratively Virginal and Plain. I could play the part for Manon des Sources in her thirties. I haven't wore any form of make up for the past two months. My mom had sent me this amazing Hydrating Swiss Cream and that's that. I carry my Niece and Family love within me the way Obi-wan Kenobi carries the Force. I walked down the streets like a Free-Spirited Woman, embracing the Unexpected. May the Force be with Us

Vermeer and Nightingale

I've tried it all, cafes, friends, home, bed, floor, legs up against the wall, music, t.v., silence... all possible locations, positions... any possible ways to study ... some work some don't... but this time, it sounds right. I met this guy who happens to be an amazing painter. He has this fair skin muse... paints her over and over and she's just fascinating looking. Well, this week end I studied at his studio while he painted and it was perfect. Studying interventions for myocardial infarctus while Fair Lady eyebrow's being defined's just delightful... People, it worked!!! Plus after hours of pure labor we ended up rewarding us watching some Woody Allen. I am a big fan (Woody's really into "Crime & Punishment") but love Mia Farrow even more. This woman is for real... I want to be just like her when I grow up. I also want to find the glasses she's wearing in this film... I ll see Fair Lady from the painting again tomorrow and know that another productive day awaits.

stucked with Natalie video

I've been trying to remove the Natalie Portman video that's on my profile but it doesn't work... I don't think it takes a PhD to do so, they're a fonction "remove from profile". I've clicked on it a douzain of time and yet Natalie's still on... Any suggestions, anybody? I don't have much patience for computers lately. Speaking of which today's national moving day in Canada. Don't ask me why but most Montrealers move out July 1st. So I found a "good as new" printer on the street yersteday. It prints like a charm. Today I found a better T.V. than the one I had found last month... I guess you'd call that an upgrade. Martina carried all the bags we had so I could carry the T.V. She's moving back to Schweitz on Monday. I'll miss her greatly. We had an amazing day, lots of yard sales, productive thrift shopping day and of course ice cream. She left me some stuff she didn't want to take home: clothing and some essential oil lavander foambath that I'm psyched to use. Meeting Martina had a great impact on me. Aside from my family that I absolutely adore, I don't particularily enjoy the presence of Swiss people (this is obviously a generalization but I've always had a hard time to relate to the culture and its people). Involontarily Martina showed me lots of attributes that I had forgot about Mountain people. There's this thing about cultural quirks and when you're abroad for so many years you simply adapt to wherever you are forgetting that these so called cultural quirks even exist. But then you meet someone from the village next to yours and there're all these shortcuts... in no time your psyche connects effortlessly to the person to a much deeper level. Well, it's been refreshing to experience that with Martina and reconnect to these qualities I knew but mostly forgot about. Qualities such as good old commun sense, authenticity, healthy mind set, simplicity, purity, honesty and integrity. Makes me want to aim for nothing less. Thank you Martina.

a summer away from home

Summer use to be my favorite Time. First I was off school and that meant go to my Grand Parents cabin which also meant run and dance in the grass, lightely dressed, barefoot, taking the risk of bee stings (I'm allergic), lose myself in a forest inhabited by monsters, spirits and living trees... I'd then look toward the garden to see Grand Ma watering her Geraniums... would run down to meet her and she'd say something flattering. She always had to say something kind to me. I'd then run into the cabin where Grand Pa'd shell peas with his old knife. I would seat next to him and help until he'd make a scary sound holding his knife like a warrior. I'd jump out of my seat, screaming and we'd laugh (him more than me). After a few minutes, I'd bravely seat again next to him until he'd scare me again... with a different tactic (like cutting his dead skin with his knife) Grand Pa was using his knife on every possible occasion. He was a Giant Strong Impressive Man with a Frank and Honest look. I felt so secure next to him. I remember when he came back from the hospital with a battery in his heart. That day I felt that Grand Pa was now bionic therefore more invincible than ever and that nothing bad would happen to him... The way I felt protected with Grand Pa I felt loved with Grand Ma...

En attendant Godot

j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'ai trois examens cette semaine, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, je dois, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, il le faut, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'irais plutot a NY, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, je prefererais etre une rock star avec une guitare, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier, j'irai plutot dans l'arriere court fumer et t'embrasser, j'veux pas etudier,j'veux pas etudier,j'veux pas etudier,j'veux pas etudier,j'veux pas etudier,j'veux pas etudier,j'veux pas etudier, choix delibere mais absurde que de vouloir controler sa destinee, j'veux pas etudier, j'veux pas etudier,j'veux pas etudier,j'veux pas etudier,j'veux pas etudier,j'veux pas etudier,j'veux pas etudier, j'vois tout tourner, j'veux pas etudier,j'veux pas etudier,j'veux pas etudier,j'veux pas etudier,j'veux pas etudier,j'veux pas etudier,j'veux pas etudier, je pars etudier au cafe des habitues... j'veux pas etudier.

headphones lift my spirit

I bought these new headphones. They're great, the sound's so sharp. Almost as if Vincent Delerm and I were hanging out in my room and he was playing the piano (I have a virtual piano, yes I do). Realized my iPod speakers were dead for so long but I just got use to the shitty sound... Brings me back to when I was a kid and use to record songs on tapes from a vinyl without any connection in between them. I'd place the "noise not free mic" as close as possible from the vinyl player speakers and record hoping that, my sis or mom would not enter the room, not say a word or move at all (cause paper walls). Before pressing the "red record button" I'd scream SILENCE... Useless most of the time: If you'd know my family, you'll know what a challenge that is. I'd seat religiously in the room while I'd do this very delicate procedure. I'd almost stop breathing until the song was over (if recording an entire album, I'd turn blue by the end of it). Then if the operation was successful (most of the time it wasn't cause of the Familia, someone ringing the bell, the neighbourg's dog, the red Suzuki Motor Bike of my soon to be boyfriend, etc...) I would listen to the song or the album in loops thanks to my run down over used walkman. I remember doing so for the Thriller album (listened to it for hours every day for an entire summer... vivid as if it was yersterday: we were spending the summer in Vercorin), there was also this Italian kind of Sonny & Cher duo (Albina &... grrr don't remember), also two songs from Prince before the purple rain album (my girlfriend made me listen to the 45rpm vinyl and it was revolutionary, it rocked my world) also JJ Goldman and then later on, Wendy & Lisa, Renaud... The sound was execrable but I was the happiest kid of the village. Then CD's changed it all...

Audition Room

Thought it'd be refreshing to be surrounded by actors for a second after being exposed to nerdy students 8 hours a day. As I press the elevator button thinking of all the germs I just contracted, I'm being aggressed by some disgraceful high pitch voice screaming on top of her lungs to some dude: "What? You haven't seen my commercial yet?" Here I am. This casting agent, don't recall his name, still exists. He says hi to me as if I'd never left town. He's gained weight and I'm surprise he recognized me despite my blond hair looks 5 yrs ago. After the ID/fill out form/photo procedure, Mr casting agent introduces me to my partner. We're suppose to be this happy joy young couple consumers buying I already forgot what... We seat next to one another. I take a look around the room. They're so much cacophony: "Have you audition for..." "God, Alicia got the part, I am so happy for her, truly I am..." "I still wait for the answer for that role, so hope I'll get it, if not..." blah blah blah... All I see is needy/egotistic souls screaming in synch: "Please, please love me" I want to scream back: "only you can do that, assholes"... Coitus Interruptus by my partner that's enthousiastically says: "Christiane, maybe we should rehearse." Shit I forgot his name. Cannot be blamed for it. How can you be interested if not intrigued... Can someone please surprise me? I exert a semi genuine smile and say:"sure". We rehearse in the midst of the blah blahs... "but it's playing on every chanels" yells now Mrs Obnoxious Voice. Saved by the bell, we're called in for the audition. Back to the real world, on my way to school with my bike, I think it'll be refreshing to return to my fellow students.

the Grass's always Greener...

on the Other Side. Ever since I've left NY, I've had this misconception to think that my NY Friends are having the time of their Life (I hope they do) while I lay here in Misery. This black & white thought can only last for so long... well, it's been long enough. There are things I'm thankful for since my return to ColdLand (though it is now warm). My life's more stable. I don't believe it myself, I have a routine, a tight schedule even. Wouldn't want it for ever, yet it is a worthy new experience. Makes things more predictible which is fine for now. I've had enough unexpected "surprises" for awhile anyways. Besides, it's also refreshing to know that your life won't be altered from one day to next cause of some external event you cannot control. Makes me feel safer and more powerful. Don't get me wrong, I do not particularly enjoy being here (motivation issues, mind's elsewhere). I struggle getting use to the surroundings, people's mentality vs mine. I keep reminding myself that this is only temporary and once I'll be done with what I came here to do, I will have plenty of opportunities to go wherever I want. But until then, my life's here and I ought to learn to make the best of it. I believe I can. I want to... Past & Memories are part of my Present. I want to befriend these Antagonists so my Life here may be Greener.

Student's Lament

I can't get no motivation 'cause i try and i try and i try and i try When i'm ridin' my bike And that man on the sidewalk 's tellin' me more and more About some useless information Supposed to fire my imagination I can't get no motivation i try and i try and i try I can't get no... When i'm seated in the back row And that professor comes on to tell me How white my shirts can be But he can't be a man 'cause he doesn't talk The same language as me I can't get no... Hey, that's what i say I can't get no, I can't get no motivation No motivation, no motivation, no satisfaction

Que c'est beau une télé !

Sans Image et sans Bruit, Telle est ma Télé! dénichée a trop de coins de rue de chez moi, je l'ai portée malgré sa triste mine poussiéreuse pendant qu'Ann s'affairait a porter les sacs contenant notre copieux repas du soir et quelques babioles inutiles achetées aux puces. Ma Télé est un objet d'art, une antiquité si on considéré que vintage 70' fait partie de cette catégorie. Elle a sa place dans l'apart, elle est brute, en impose et ce, surtout lorsqu'éteinte. Autoritaire, elle ne m'autorise a visionner une seule chaîne (CBC). Je m'assois donc et regarde des ombres noirs/blanches qui s'animent sous la neige et m'annoncent a trois reprises en moins d'une heure que le Prince William ne fera pas la guerre en Irak. Ce dernier est apparemment très "upset" de cette décision qui semble lui échapper. Il a du caractère le petit Prince. Moi je le trouve bien sympathique. Sans compter que je suis redevable d'etre enfin a nouveau a jours avec l’actualité internationale. C'est ma première journée/soirée télé en plusieurs mois donc je me borne a la regarder. Mais CBC me prend en otage et je ne peux échapper a cette nouvelle véhiculée en boucle d'heure en heure. Après tout, le Canada fait partie du "British Commonwealth" donc la nouvelle touche la nation entière... sympa le prince mais bon... J'essaie de capter d'autres trucs... Ma Télé est capricieuse et n'aime pas être bousculée. Plus je la touche, plus il y a de la neige, encore un truc typique Canada. L'antenne ghetto est faite maison, avec du fil de cuivre qui dépasse et j'ai peur de m’électrocute alors j'agite gauchement les fils sans toucher au cuivre (pas envie de mourir si jeune et si belle) et la le son qui jusqu'alors était le seul attribut de cette horrible invention devient distorsionnée. La neige se transforme en fourmis, j'entends plus, je vois plus, j'ai jamais vu grand chose de toute facon... des impulsions télévisuelles assassines s'emparent de mon Être. J'éteinds le Monstre. Que c'est c'est beau une Télé sans Image et sans Bruit.

NY trip journal

I m glad I'm here. It feels already as I never left yet I have... I first felt very sad, powerless, angry and don't get me wrong, I will experience these feeling on and off (especially once back to Montreal Nursing Boot Camp). This being said, it is interesting for me to be here. I can tell that unless I would have gotten a visa, things wouldn't have evolved much for me. I would still have been cut up with waiting tables, the williamsburg frenzy and what comes with it. I made so many interesting non expected (no coincidence though) encounters. Such as meeting this guy I had a huge crush on (some williamsburg successful artist and well respected dude who had treated me like a queen and then not so much like a queen). Seeing him again at this cafe was a blessing, he now seems so empty, so full of himself and so cut up with being Mr. most wanted bachelor. That same day, I end up walking in front of a bar and saw this guy I use to work with. He offered me a drink. Seing him being cut up working at the bar, talking about the same things, doing the same things was also a blessing cause I realised I needed to get out of that. Yes I use to be this cool girl, knowing it all in the burg, knowing lots of cool dudes and artists doing great things and I don't underestimate that. I did feel like I belonged to something greater and larger than life but coming back makes me realise that I needed to move forward. Having moved out, doing what I do now is a necessary evil considering what happened. If things would have happened as planned, I would still be in NY, would have moved forward getting jobs in what I liked to do most. It was a dream and it still is. So yes I go through painful moments of I could have, I dreamed that, I would have been, etc.. But the truth is things happened. And I didn't have much choice then to continue my life the way it was or to change this unproductive circle I was in. Given the circumpstances, I do know now that I took the right decision (and that's huge for me to realise). This doesn't prevent me to feel sad about my dreams being crushed and feeling powerless in front of my destiny. I think it is huge for me to realise that I took the right decision given the shitty circumpstances I was in. If this trip only makes me realise this, then that's quite something.

Scolopendra Gigantea in the Basement

Some Scolopendra Gigantea a.k.a. some Giant Worm with Hundreds Legs (we call them Thousand Legs in French) showed up 10 minutes ago. I tryed to catch it but the Bug had Sensor and Ran off. I don't know where it went. This thing was so big that for a second I thought it was a baby snake. So creepy. My house was poorly lit, with Candles. I was watching this hard core movie "Papillon" which by the way is a total Foreshadow... Daaa, Steve McQueen's eating Scolopendra Gigantea in the film. And here I am looking down when I see this beast walking on the floor. And as I look at it it stopped. I'm telling you, this Creature has Sensors. So I wonder if this is Real or if I have some Vision due to Steve eating what I see on my Floor. I stand up, the Leged Worm's still Still. I get some Paper Towel, double it up and try to Regroup Myself. I am definitively the "let's not kill any Living Creature" type. Yet this is gross. I have a Phobia for any Phallic looking insects and snakes. I hope it won't jump on my Bed tonight or something. I approached my Ennemy but with its Sofisticate Sensors (chances are it's a she and she's pregnant)the bug ran off under some Wall Crack. Online they say that the Scolopendra Gigantea enjoys living AND REPRODUCING in basements. What if I wake up with Scolopendra Gigantea Larvas on my bed...

looking for Antoine Doinel

After watching "Love on the Run" with Judith, we Walked under the Snow at the video store... to pick up more Truffaut movies, no kidding. We were then wondering where all the Romance went... We or at least I want to meet Antoine Doinel. Antoine Doinel, a Man that Suprises Women, act in Unexpected Ways, Hop a Train to meet Colette. Antoine Doinel is the Eternal Romantic Figure. He is Convincing because he is Convinced. Antoine Doinel doesn't wait and Act Instinctively. He does therefore get this extraordinary Sense of Timing. The Man is in Touch with Himself. He listens to his Urges and Impulses not because He wants to but because He has to. Antoine Doinel never gives up whenever He loves a Woman. He is Sincere, Foolish, Vulnerable, Capricious, Moving cause of the Child that's never left him... Antoine Doinel Courts his Woman Endlessly, Writes her Letters because Love is as Important as Air. If not Expressed, there is no Possible Life. Mediocrity is not an Option. For Antoine Doinel, there might be no Tomorrow. Judith and I realized that, back in our "European days", having "Truffaut fights style" with our Euro Exes were an O.K. Thing. Drama was permitted back then. You weren't Hysterical just because you were acting Impulsively or because Angry. We both feel Nostalgic and denounce this Whatever Archetype we live in. I love Antoine Doinel because he is the Antagonist of that. For Antoine Doinel every Detail is Significant. Love is not to be taken Lightly. Love is the Essence. Antoine Doinel could be any Man. He has a Fucked up Childhood, lots of Flaws, has what's Considered an Average Job... Nothing about him is Heroic but its Idealistic Views of Love. Antoine Doinel, my Hero, where are Thou?

bicyclette bleue

I am Proud to Annonce that I now Own a Blue Elegant City Bike. Last night I went for my First Escapade. I felt like Laeticia Casta, sensuelle avec son debardeur en V annees 40 laissant paraître un debut de chair de sa généreuse poitrine. I felt free and fresh as a myosotis exposed to the danger of a Humid Night. I know the last sentance is Terrible but that's how I truly felt. One cannot (and shouldn't) Censure Herself... Ca fait un peu "Il pleut sur la plage a mourrir" mais bon... Maybe I was more Elliott with E.T. riding along in the Front Basket. Venus is a great Co-Pilot. She Forsees Obstacles. Thanks to Accute and Naturalistic Sounds/Looks She is my Compass Sensor. Bought on Friday April 13, it is now Time to Baptizise my Bicyclette Bleue. Maybe her Name should be Simple and Plain : Bicyclette Bleue or Laetitia or Casta or Elliott or Drew or Barrymore or...? Suggestions, anyone? PS: the first idea's always the best.

Bunny in Wonderland or Bad Trippin' on Valerian

Back Home from the Psychology Final Test ("Psycho" is how I call this class), I took a triple dose of Valerian. I thought I deserved a Break from this Mascarade called School... I wanted to Sink and Never Wake Up again... Well I eventually woke up, but only after a good 15 hours of solid sleep. In the Midst of my Nocturnal Journey, I clearly felt a Shift. My Parasympathetic Nervous System took over. I Sank. Everything became Calm, Quiet and Silent. My Cells were elegantly floating in the Deep. They could have been the Protagonists in "The Blue Planet". I also had the most Vivid Dream. There was this Adorable cartoonish Bunny Strangling this Adorably cartoonish Dog. They both looked so Cute and Lovable. I couldn't Stop starring at Them. They looked incredibly so Believable. All I wanted to do is Hug these little Ones. I was feelin' such lovy dovy Sympathy for these Creatures and thinkin' that after all, Life's beautiful. I could be Them, They could be Me. We were One. Exactly Then, I heard The Cracking. The Adorable Cartoonish Dog's Head fell on its Side. All I can remember after this is Everything becoming Grey. My surrounding, My Mind... Everything's Colorless and Estranged... End of a Dream

Reminiscence

I come back from the post office and got the summer box I asked my mom to send. Clothing and shoes. Only the ninth of what I truly own... though I'm psyched. As I unpack, memories & smells come up... L'odeur alcaline, sulfureuse du garage de mes parents. Le garage ou enfant, j'ai passe des heures a construire des maisons en bois pour les oiseaux ou mes playmobils. Cet ete en famille... L'importance de cet ete en famille. Justement, cet été, en regardant mes photos d'enfance, j'ai réalisé l'impact des vêtements sur ma mémoire. J'avais 4, 7, 9 ans et la vue du pull/pantalon/pj/bottes me ramène clairement a un attachement particulier pour telles ou telles étoffes et ce faisant, ces dernières me guident vers des souvenirs. Chaque bout de tissu a son histoire. Pendant que je les redécouvre un a un, ces derniers me renvoient dans le passe vitesse grand V. Il y a l'imper rouge, déniche au rayon enfant, avec qui j'ai tant couru sous la pluie pour rattraper le temps. Il y a les deux robes préférées de l'homme que j'ai tant aime (merde, j'ai pas le sac qui va avec). Le shirt noir décolleté qui m'a accompagne dans Les soirées. Les fringues "casual" avec touche perso pour le resto, ajout de mordant pour le bar. Hommage a mes fripes qui entrent dans ma vie avec leur vécu et mystère. Netherless to say, my Last Summer Box is a sheer reflection of The Way to Wear. I need to dedicate another blog for shoes only.

Dalton's Law

I kept telling this Girl at school she shouldn't feel Displeased with her 9 Extra Pounds since truly, I find her Perfect the way She Is. Besides I hate to see a Girl struggle with her Self-Image. We're Women = our Weight Fluctuates. I've Gained Weight. So much that my Friends Don't Notice at All... I don't Get in my "hard to fit" Pant though = Indeniable Sign not to say Proof. Causes: my New Sedentary Life a.k.a. school/Awful montreal Winter (all my Cells want is Save Fat Supply for the Upcoming Snow Storm)/and last but not least, I no longer Run the Streets of NY. I don't even have a decent Mirror to check Myself out. The only Indications I have is this Inner bloated Feeling I Carry around and my Pair of Pants. I'm not the Type to Compromise on Food but I won't Compromise on Feeling Fit and Active either...I Want to Be In my Body Not Trapped in it. Think I found a Remedy though. This Dude is Fixing my New Bike. Her and I will Go a long Way I can Tell. Also Reminds me that when I feel Fullfilled I never have weight Problems... Don't even have to Think of it... Damn!

I've won a Battle

Yet not the War. I'm glad we got to Talk. It was Casual... Casual ain't a bad thing after all. Why always digging into the Core... I love my Persona. With no Shame I think of myself as Cute, Adorable, Caring, Funny, etc. But they are days I wish I'd be less Intense. Dude, you don't always need to create Moments. The good part though is that my Life's never been Lame. As for Now, I've put myself in a Setting that could be Boring as Hell, yet I still find Ways of being Entertained, Amused, Touched... On the other hand, as cliche as it sounds, Letting things Be instead of Creating Meaning/Drama can be quite a Relief. I don't believe much in change (rather Redemption). I instead look at my Traits from a different Perspective. I will always be the Expensive Girl looking for Meanings and Depths in Single Details. To me, Life's a Succession of Details. I am not Light and that's O.K. I think though that it ain't a Bad Idea to Relax and Let it Be... All That to say: Casual or Not, I Hope We'll get to Talk More, that's All.

Uncle Sam's Rejection

looks like I've been 86ed... Shame, Shame, Shame. Whenever I don't get what I want, I think that all I have to do is Fix it. And then, it'll all be Good. Whenever I don't get what I want, I think it must be because I didn't go all the Way or I didn't make my Point clear enough. I mean if I feel something's Right it is because it Is Right. I am Stubborn that way and Determined too. This isn't about me having a Tantrum or being Capricious. Really, what we had was Organic, it Flowed. It was Special. All I want is to move along with it... even from a Distance. Distance offers the illusion that We can still Tango. From Apart, the dance might still seem balanced. How to Fix something that's Broken, broken even after many repears?... AI haven't given up just yet...

Tea Time should be Mandatory

Things have been pretty Harsh since I moved in Montreal. I'm not Adapting to the Environment. Not at all. Though I've been doing Great considering... I finally got my Place, an alright Basement. Strange for a Girl use to live on Top floors. I hear people Stepping on Me. It's alright, I have a Place. I feel like a Rat, Underground but Safe and Extra Resistant. Nope, that would be a Cockroach. In any case, I now have a Place to Welcome my NY Friends. Two of Them are Coming soon, I'm excited. My Life's never been so Calm. As Sandrine told me once: a Detox of Intensity is what You Seriously need. Well that's what I've been Experiencing the past months: Withdrawal. I've been Tempted a Few Times to Act Out and Regress looking for Cheap Thrills but didn't Go for it as that's no longer what my Body & Mind want. Never say Never but so Far so Good. I Stick to the Simple Pleasures of Life such as Tea. Bought 7 Kinds today. Tried them All. Now that's intense. Well, so much for Detox. Never Underestimate the Power of Tea. Noble Women: whether you are a Songstress, a Loner, a Poetess, Tea's the Remedy.

Stop Making Sense

Edith Says: "Non, rien de rien. Non, je ne regrette rien." I do have regrets... Two. I believe things happen for a reason. I don't get it yet but eventually it will all make sense. But now nothing does; Now isn't the Time to comprehend. I must therefore Take a Path, Do the Work, Stick to It and IN GOD I TRUST. Then One day, hopefully I'll be singing along with Edith...

Littl' Hater

You use to tell me : One, you're such a littl'hater.. I think you were right. Yet I wish I was a Great Hater. I tried very hard to hate you. To hate you with all my strength, with all the passion left. I failed. I forced myself into thinking that hate was all you deserved and all we had left. I didn't succeed. Good memories emerge as enemies. My reality doesn't have any good memory material. My reality is not the one I have expected and I cannot help but hold it against you. I even think I am entitled to do so. You haven't honored our pact. You have hurt me once more. How could it be after what we went through already. Twice, decisions regarding us altered my life. You walked away moving on with yours. I make the best of the situation but struggle. I don't like the harbor I have landed at, I am hurt, feel betrayed and abandoned. Yet I fail to hate you the way I should. The love I have for you is stronger. One thing is « for sure » : I miss you. I miss you everyday, many times a day. I miss you when I hear music. I still cannot hear yours. I miss you when a man comes to me. I miss the way you use to comment on my quirks and knacks. I miss us finding the best goodies at Dean & Delucca and eating Swedish Liquorice until our stomachs would ache. I miss your obsession of « well spent time ». I miss our days at the church listening to the organ. I miss your passion for whatever you would get into. I miss you. Nothing compares to you. I wish I could hate you, hate you only, without the love that I still have for you but I keep on failing. Maybe I should give up... and give in.