Dementia

Film, Triste Film que celui qui se présente devant mes yeux. Jamais je n'eus autant fait fi de mes connaissances car rien de ma bouche ne sort d'autres que des discours échappatoires. Carencées dans l'expression des sentiments profonds, je ne suis bonne que pour les ressentir ou pire encore, les vivre. La Peur de Nommer les choses par leur Nom Propre... 'Avez-vous encore envie d'intenter à votre vie ?' 'Avez vous des hallucinations aujourd'hui?' 'Que disent les voix?' Faire face, Affronter, Affranchir. Je suis là avec mon expertise, mes notes, mes savants livres expliquant l'ABC, les démarches, les étapes une à une, le mental health for dummies... De qui est-je si peur... certes pas d'eux. Je me cabre, juge la communication froide et stérile bien qu'avec intentions profondes... Oui, ne pas oublier les dites intentions, contribuer, aider... Il m’apparaît impudique que de violer le psyché de l'homme, comme ça, sans garde. Moi, la droitière si gauche. Ne pas oublier l'intention altruiste, contribuer, aider... La voix maître de la fine ligne séparant la raison de la folie nargue mes piètres tentatives de compréhension de l’abîme de l'Âme. Plus que tout autres maux, le mal être dépeint des douleurs humaines avec, en toile de fond, quelques teintes d'espérances.

Dream or my interpretation of it : internship/antibiotics/end of a romance and some more

black & white in a dark alley : Jon whispers he works for the National Defense, says they're running tests on brand new revolutionarian weapons. He tells me then they take patients from the psychiatric ward and test the bullets on them. He then comes closer and in my ears and utters : you would be eligible too, if only you had candida albicans. In color : M.K. and I are in the rich garden plucking muguet when the owner surprises us. I feel intimidated by this imposing woman. She's got long blond hair –could be Manon des Sources in her 40's-. There's this childish quality in her although despite her young looks and hip style her gaze tells she's lived a few lifes. Guilty and mesmerized, M.K. and I justify ourselves the best we can and explain the muguet is to heal someone. black & white : The woman brings us to her house. I am now this woman. I bring a young man in… Everything's strangely peaceful… too peaceful, David Lynch peaceful. I open the door to a cavernous house. A vast messy room with antiques, wooden furnitures, ashtrays and rugs upstaged by coffee and cigarettes smell. A man's playing chess. He could have been part of the trainspotting cast, that is if he was 20 years younger. He stops playing, stars at us with this blasé but fragile airs… Always loved the Jacques Dutronc look of his. He mambles a sound that resembles a welcome. The boy looks at my tatooed man and seems intimidated by his bad ass looks... The triangle dynamic's is viceral and turns us upside down. It's all too late, we're sucked into the unhealthy, foggy spiral. Everybody's already hooked... testosterone and death smell melted with fear, life, danger and excitiment. I observe... My man's calm and emotionneless. Will he kill or be a gentleman… I love him cause impredictible. The only thing I know is he has no middle ground. I love him for that too… Time takes time. He finally makes a choice, look straight into the young man's eyes and introduce himself in a cold, civile manner. I wake up…

It’s all interrelated or Chekhov wanna Be

Went to the theatre the other day… Striked me I'd never really been entertained by comedies, vaudevilles; dramatic plays ? unless written by Masters- they can take a cliche/stereotypical tangent. I then wondered what it is I like… what it is I'd like to write… The plays that made the strongest impression all had these recurrant themes : men escaping from their misery, despair, powerless, fearful conditions… men battling the war for/against their own psyche… Heroes showing their worse through excess of power / bloody ambition. Anti-Heroes losing everything and fighting adversity like enranged tigers (Medea). Tiny moments of hope/victory that makes us hang on and believe. Ibsen's got that right. heros 'gainst hypocritical and corrupt nature of the mainstream masses(an enemy of the people). All of it wrappped with the Supernatuel aspect men crave for : salvation and if not redemption… vice versa actually : if you're redeemed you're saved/if you're saved you must have redeemed somewhere along the line. Plays that have inspired me and that I want to aim for in my writting would be EQUUS like… or MARAT/SADE like… Could be written in my second language just the way Beckett did so that you go for the essence without too many fancy words… A play's not about being pretty. All being done the Chekhov way : docteur/playwright a.k.a. "Medicine is my lawful wife and literature is my mistress." Speaking of which, the nurse life helps me define my writting style. I am über cerebral. Nursing grounds me. You cannot philosophy while your patient's convulsing, you act. You'll think about it later on on your bath tube… Nursing connects me to the real world so that I can then plunge into my psyche and draw, design whatever my perception dictates and make sense out of what I see, create a world based upon what I witness. Anton's plays are so real, so palpable, I think his plays and amazing short stories derive directly from his live stories therefore the texture is far richer. Stankslavski said « Chekhov mood is that cave in which are kept all the unseen and hardly palpable treasures of Chekhov's soul, so often beyond the reach of mere consciousness. » The dude wasn't only in front of his sheets and pen thinking what a drunk should be like… what a dying person should feel… that's key. My obstacle to write… My mind doesn't remind faithful to the same story for very long. The longest play I wrote was 20 minutes long. That's probably why I love short stories… How brilliant The Pit and the Pendulum is… Cannot wait to start my internship in psychiatry to prove my point since -biased me- I already figured insanity resides in them, you and I. Did I just called you insane ? Indeed.

1st day Psych

Today was my first day at school. Brand new semester, brand new subject: psychiatry. The professor opened up with a not so typical "why are you here in the first place" question (nobody usually gives a damn about your sudden vocation into the noble nursin' field). So while most people were going on on how great their desire to serve and make a difference is, I was trying to come up with a diplomatic yet honest answer cause spontaneous me would have plainly said : "well this is my NY return ticket". Forced to admit this teacher got me. By the end of the class, I was under the charm. I think this semester's gonna be good. Gotta to lay low though cause my genuine interst for anything mental related made me eagerly jump in whenever the ways of the mind came to the surface. Got also to watch my back cause next thing you know I'll accidentally use "I" while mentionning the darkness of the soul and jeopardize my politically correct school behavior. Not really want this insightful teacher to guess how many times I thought of tearing up my skin as a kid. The professor said wanting to die's more about wanting to kill the pain, abort the hurt than to really die. She then connected the subject with attachment which striked a cord: This ultimate goal to move back to NY is attachment. attachment=holding on to amazing moments now gone and wanting to recreate them cause that's where being felt good. The intent's all legite except that when attached, you're stucked, when stucked, you're not moving forward therefore you die slowly cause zero progression means regression. This week off tought me that there's a life here, that I'm alive even when I think I'm not. That I'm still me everywhere and can reinvente myself now. It is not NY I need to get back to, it is me.

Tentative

Sur un toit nous sommes montés, La lune, témoin de notre escapade, Nous connecte au bitume. Ce besoin d appartenir au miroir de soi lorsque face à l autre. On a alors parlé de parcours, de destinée Enivrés, la nuit nous enveloppe de chaleur malgré la brise printanière. Cet espoir de renouveau, De meilleur Qui demain ne sera déjà plus. Grand est mon pouvoir, je le vois à présent Cette capacité de renaître quand opportunité il y a. Je me souviens alors de ce faucon blessé retrouvé dans le jardin de mon voisin. Sorti de sa cage, ce dernier vola vers les siens, oubliant les limites imposées par ses dompteurs. L'instinct est fort. Même lorsque réduit à ses cendres, Il brûle encore. Nuit symbole de promesses Certes à venir…

Minuit Passé

11:59 le regard franc et droit j'attends l'Heure Divine. Dehors la Lune est Pleine. 12:01 agenouillée, je médite. Ai-je raison d'avoir tort? Perpétuer cette incessante lutte... 12:07 dans tes bras, je m'abandonne. Je ne veux plus avoir raison. Que ta volonté se fasse, simplement toucher à la limpidité de tes Humeurs. 12:13 sereine je sens mon fragile dos se dénouer. Tout ira bien je t'entends me dire Ai-je tord d'avoir perdu la raison ? 12:17 troublée, j'aditionne les rêves, soustraits les Deuils, divise les Actes Manqués, Égalant le tout par un espoir quasi-nul. 12:23 je pense donc suis peu. Les mêmes mots indélébiles raisonnent. Je me sens trop... 12:27 la fatigue anesthésie mon mal-être Dans l'abysse de l'inconscient je plonge et je me noie. 12:31 ivre et somnolente, je respire aux rythmes des ronflements de l'homme non loin de moi. Le temps de qui, l'espace de quoi... Le moment est venu de rentrer. 12:39 je me lève élégamment mais gauchement... J'ai oublié la raison de ma visite initiale. 12:41 ma sortie aux au revoirs protocolaires a des airs purs, quant au détour le clochard aux allures démoniaques crache des messages indéchiffrables mais pércutants; non je ne laisserais pas ce regard infernal venir troubler ma destinée 12:43 ceci n'est pas un rêve, il me semble, plutôt des minutes de Vie un soir de Ronde Lune.

Shelter

"Hey beautiful come here, I have something for you" he said "Does it look like I wanna talk to you ?" she said "Come here, come here.. " he said "Seriously..." she said Moving forward to the woods he now comes closer. Facing him and shouting "Get the fuck away from me" she said "Oh... I m sorry" he said Whistling at his friend and pointing his finger where she stands something like "let’s show this girl what we’re about... Fast walking through trees, "I need your protection" she said "You need to watch out, it s the beginning of the pot season" he said "I didn’t know there was such a thing as a season for pot" she thought "I shouldn’t have replied" she said "These guys are full of testosterones" he said "And I’m full of oestrogens" she said "Too bad your dog’s not a doberman" he said "What was I thinking..." she said "I’m gonna walk with you some more" she said "My pleasure" he said "Next thing you’ll know I’m gonna invite myself to your place for tea time" she said "I’d be delighted if I wasn’t walking to work" he said "What for" she said "I’m a teacher…. Sociology" he said "ah…" she said "It’s actually to help students express themselves in a better manner" he said "that’s cool" she thought "I think this is it" she said "Well, my name is… (forgotten)" he said "Mine’s christiane" she replied.

33 and reborn

A Magic dwells in each Beginning... Hermann Hesse "For since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive" As for my love ones...And the righteous one shall arise from sleep, [Shall arise] and walk in the paths of righteousness, And all his path and conversation shall be in eternal goodness and grace. - 1 Enoch 92:3 Exodus 15:13 "In your unfailing love you will lead the people you have redeemed. In your strength you will guide them to your holy dwelling. Psalms 6:4 Turn, O LORD, and deliver me; save me because of your unfailing love. Psalms 13:5 But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. Psalms 32:10 Many are the woes of the wicked, but the LORD’s unfailing love surrounds the man who trusts in him. Psalms 33:5 The LORD loves righteousness and justice; the earth is full of his unfailing love. Psalms 33:22 May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD, even as we put our hope in you. Psalms 36:7 How priceless is your unfailing love! Both high and low among men find refuge in the shadow of your wings. Psalms 44:26 Rise up and help us; redeem us because of your unfailing love. Psalms 48:9 Within your temple, O God, we meditate on your unfailing love. Psalms 51:1 Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions. Psalms 52:8 But I am like an olive tree flourishing in the house of God; I trust in God’s unfailing love for ever and ever. Psalms 90:14 Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days. Psalms 107:8 Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for men, Psalms 107:15 Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for men, Psalms 107:21 Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for men. Psalms 130:7 O Israel, put your hope in the LORD, for with the LORD is unfailing love and with him is full redemption. Psalms 143:8 Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul. Psalms 143:12 In your unfailing love, silence my enemies; destroy all my foes, for I am your servant. Proverbs 19:22 What a man desires is unfailing love; better to be poor than a liar. Isaiah 54:10 Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed," says the LORD, who has compassion on you. Lamentations 3:32 Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love. Hosea 10:12 Sow for yourselves righteousness, reap the fruit of unfailing love, and break up your unplowed ground; for it is time to seek the LORD, until he comes and showers righteousness on you. New beginning... virginal.

These boots are made for walkin'

and that's what they do... and 've been doing since November. For the first time since fall, I've been wearing "non-winter" boots! Trust me, it's fantastic news when you're a boot lover. So far, I've been doomed to wear the same pair of boots, the only pair that's been allowing me not to walk like a penguins on the ice (aren't they cute though)... the only pair that's been keeping me warm... the only pair destroyed from day one by the merciless salt... Before I knew it though, snow's back on sending me the clear message that sticking to that same pair of "adorable but tired black Nov til May boots" is a must. I've always found the Montreal weather obsession idiotic. Being stocked in elevators with 9 to 5 "akward ('xcuse the pleonasm) office people" on their way to their grim desk I'd hear : "it's snowing 'gain today hey..." How long can you use the same line when snow's part of your everyday life for 5 months straight... seriously. Once the snow subject's over they usually bring up how long they've got left before retirement... gee... silence's golden but I sometimes wanna scream... The TV's on as I am writing these lines and, surprise surprise Mrs Weatherwoman's on talking about the current snowstorm, the one I can see from my window. Thank you Woman for telling me something I can see smell touch hear and feel. Dude, she's so enthousiastic about this snowstorm. How does she manage to act as if she hasn't already talked about that shit weather every day for the past 5 months already. Her blond hairdo's bouncing as she joyfully explains a snowstorm can only be called so if it's at least 15 cetimeters of snow... well this piece of info's definitively helping. Thanks to you lady I now understand the nuance in between snow crystals, snowflakes, rime, graupel, hail and what defines a snowstorm versus non storm snow. Oh now the ancorlady wraps up the news with the ultimate question "will it ever stop snowing?" Guys I'm not making this up... This is the everyday news in Canada. That's as good and serious as it gets... Snow's the main character whenever you turn your TV on. The birds sings everyday, the sun's on every morning, the moon stares at us at night... do we talk about it every day in the news... Maybe we should. But my point's I wake up with snow falling, I walk outside and help my friend shuffle the snow off her car so we can go to school, same story on my way home. I censore myself from watching the local news cause half of it about telling you what you already know: it is snowing. Months of white flakes falling over you and wearing the same boots every single from November til March does not need explanation.

all the world's a stage

and all the men and women merely players: They have their entrances and their exits. Soaked in the steamy hot tub, I am breaking the "longest bath ever taken record" and while at it, doing some thinking... Recently, figments from the past re-surfaced and caught me by surprise. I realised that I'm still drowning in a sea of anger, resentment and regrets... It isn't news cause I have a good sense of who I am and where I stand... I'm not a fool and don't deny nor repress my emotions. Yet feeling so vulnerable and emotional years after a trauma hit me hard. I believe that the idea of waisted time is illusionary. Therefore we evolve even when we think we don't. So warm and content from so much bath heat, I tell myself that whatever path I'm into, it is the right one. That's when I realised I might never recover from some life changing event. Deceptive company, poor decision making can mess you up for ever... Pouring once again more hot water I was trying to figure out how to move on/grow the healthier possible way despite all these feelings on which I have such poor control on. I want to be proactive and refuse to be a victim. The survivor I am's gonna keep on shining... It's a must. I then got this insight: maybe it's not about recovering as much as making it about me. There's many actors in my unfortunate chapter... Sorry characters who no longer have room in My play. Yet, I've been giving "these now virtual players" power to develop the story further and take control of my future. Well, "no more" I say! These vilains only exist because I let them exist. They are part of me only if I allow them to. They are given the importance I give them. It is therefore time to fire every gloomy participating actor of the sad act of my life. From my womb tub I make it official : I fire all of the actors but the protagonist! I cannot turn back the already read red pages, can only write the present therefore future. From now on, the only person responsible of my tale is me, the person to blame when the story turns sour is me again and I am the one to put myself out of my history misery, thank you. (end of the act).

en rêve comblée je suis

l'Amérique me voulait une fois diplômée mais que je refusais leur offre pour décider de continuer mon bac à McGill. Ce faisant sur un lit j'essaye d'ajuster mon ordi qui est tout plié - un ordi style Dali-. Un homme à mes côté m aide et je lui dis de faire attention car il appuie sur l'ordi comme un homme des bois. Alors il change de position et on se retrouve face a face son front contre le mien. On reste comme ça pendant un long moment. Son haleine est chaude et rassurante. Mon homme est bien bâti et fort... Puis suite à une sortie hivernale on rentre à la maison. On vit au 3ième juste en dessous des parents et en rentrant on voit que Milivia a demandé a un des jumeaux d'ajuster nos chaussures car ces dernières sont pêle-mêle. On s'accroche avec la voisine en lui disant que le nombre de chaussures et leur disposition devant notre perron nous regarde. et là, je me réveille comblée d'avoir en une nuit, trouvé homme et logi.