Month: May 2006

Broadcast

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And let me stay
I can be small
I can be invisible
But let me stay

—–oOSOo—–

I’m so tense these days, I can’t stand still. I blog for a while, then move to the couch to read a few pages, then go tidy up the kitchen, then come back to the computer, then watch some tv. Spin cycle. Yet everything is a mess.

—–oOSOo—–

Fickle. Too many pulls. Not enough will. Even this post tears me apart. A mountain of words. Can’t seem to settle for one. I want to say, write, sing, chant, whisper, implore for fuck’s sake. I belong here. I belong here.

—–oOSOo—–

It’s not block. It’s confusion. About every single stupid decision I’ve made. I’m not second guessing myself all the time. But I feel like I forgot something at the crossroads. Nothing, no one can bring it back for me. Because every one has moved on. What’s left behind is my bad judgement.

—–oOSOo—–

I’m hungry. Again. Always. I have to be fed.

Incubation

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I write my posts in Blogger. Never use spell checking. Never save a draft. Never go back to change. Anything.

I sit, I write, I post. I don’t work the sentences. I don’t rearrange the paragraphs.

I do use dictionaries, sometimes for help, sometimes for inspiration.

I don’t ponder about, I don’t think ahead.

I sit, with a worry, with a pain, with a smile, with a desire.

I write, I fly, I live, I breath.

I post, I give, I surrender.

——-oOSOo——-

I read my past sometimes
I have regrets sometimes
I am happy sometimes

——-oOSOo——-

A very generouse writer showed me the beauty of working with words, the movements of inspiration, the pleasure of constant company.

I just can’t explain the abouts and hows. I can about the whys.

Attrape traffic

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Je ne suis pas accros à mes stats. J’aime surtout savoir de quel pays viennent les gens qui passent ici. Le nombre de visites ne m’obsède pas, ça me laisse même indifférente.

Mais j’adore les mots clés! Pour mon propre plaisir. D’autres sont meilleurs que moi pour s’amuser publiquement avec les élans curieux des surfers.

Mais là, aujourd’hui, je sais pas ce qui se passe… Coudonc, y a tu un party Julie D’araiche/Michel Fugain en quelque part à soir? Parce que j’ai eu quatre hits dans la journée avec ces deux là. Ok, c’est pas tant que ça. Mais c’est tout de même étrange.

Mon plus gros succès est le mot JUPE. Un post, une centaine de hits. Le deuxième plus populaire étant MA CULOTTE. J’ai eu un hit avec “Matter les belles fesses” aussi aujourd’hui. Et “Latex bound dominated”.

Alors quelqu’un veut matter mes belles fesses dans des culottes en latex sous ma jupe en écoutant du Julie Daraiche et du Michel Fugain?

Vernissage

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I had the weirdest dream last night. I was in a huge room, high ceilings, my footsteps echoing. The room was filled with easels, all occupied by large canvases. On the canvases were my posts, written in black paint, still wet, dripping at places.

And as I was walking, trying to make out the words, a guy was walking behind me, saying

-This has to go, this has to go, you can’t keep these
-No, no, I want to keep them all
-But you can’t, you have to get rid of them, it’s too many

I was feeling threatened, dread was mounting. I was looking, trying to read, but I couldn’t get close enough to any of the pieces. Everything was blurry, because I didn’t have my glasses. And the guy was getting closer. I wasn’t looking behind me, I couldn’t see his face. But I could feel his nervousness, hear his breath, smell his clothes.

-This room HAS to be empty by tomorrow
-But what am I gonna do?
-I don’t care, just get rid of them
-No I won’t!

And I started running towards the center of the room, smelling the paint, the rust from the pipes on the walls. And I woke up. I don’t remember having smelt in my dreams before.

Hello! My name is:

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Once I was in a NFB (National Film Board: a government owned film production agency) movie. They threw a post production party and invited all the participants to a viewing and cheap buffet.

When I saw myself on the screen it was the biggest shock of my life. I started crying. Everything, everything. My face 20 feet tall showed everything. All the things I was working so hard to hide were there. And all I could think of was, when the lights come up, people will look at me. Because they have seen. I couldn’t follow the movie. A loop, playing. They see me, they see me, they see me. Of course they didn’t see.

My layers, through the years, have grown thicker. Have melded. Made a heavy coat that at some point I thought was comfortable enough to wear all the time. I could run, jump, dance, fuck and never break a sweat.

Everything gets done slower now. My shoulders are bent and my knees are about to give. My name tag flew off at some point. I’m not even sure that coat belongs to me.

Individuality is a bad excuse for disguise.

Mother’s day… for real

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Because they are the most beautiful, wonderful children a mother could dream of having

Because every day makes sense when we kiss goodnight

Because I can make their frown disapear with my arms

Because they can make my frown disapear in theirs

I am thankful there is a Mother’s day

It reminds me how lucky I am to have such beauty surround me every day

I love you, I love you, I love you.

Mother’s day…La fête des mères

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Perfect gift: home alone for a few hours

Even more perfect gift: CSI’s second season DVD boxset

.

Le cadeau parfait: quelques heures de solitude à la maison

Le cadeau plusss parfait: le coffret DVD de la deuxième saison de CSI

EDIT: Le cadeau ultra plussss parfait… genre:

(j’ai du enlever le code, désolée) T’as le look Coco, c’était la toune.

Mantra

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There’s always after
There’s always tomorrow
Right now is already gone

Right now is a war raging
Yesterday was a prelude
The second between the two was a breath

The moment in stillness
The stillness of moments
I can’t stand unsettled ripples

I heard: I am here I am back
Wallowing in images from a flash of light
I thought it held the truth

Does lighting make you blind, even for a moment?
Not an imprint of reality
But the emptiness of absolute whiteness

Alone in its clarity