Inspirations

2007 et ses variations

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Pour moi: 

Je peux dire sans hésiter, sans peur, aujourd'hui, que 2007 sera la plus belle année que j'aurai connue depuis longtemps. La confirmation du chemin que je me trace depuis des mois. Je sais maintenant que ma quête n'est pas vaine ni utopique, mais ancrée dans un furieux besoin de vivre et aimer. Aimer la vie, les autres et moi-même.

Même si où ce chemin mène reste mystérieux, la lumière s'y est enfin installée.

 

Pour toi Love-Soeur, pour toi RoméoZ, pour vous tous que j'aime:

Je peux dire sans hésiter, sans peur, aujourd'hui, que tu es la plus belle chose qui me soit arrivée depuis longtemps, depuis des années. Une confirmation du chemin que je me trace depuis des mois. je sais maintenant que ma quête n'est pas vaine ni utopique, mais ancrée dans un furieux besoin de vivre et aimer. Aimer la vie, les autres et moi-même.

Même si où ce chemin mène reste mystérieux, la lumière s'y est enfin installée. Et ta présence ne la rend que plus brillante.

 

Je vous souhaite une bonne année. 

 

So so so alive

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I don't even remember how I discovered blogs. Really, I have no recollection whatsoever. Only that I started mine very tentatively, a few entries here and there. And well, I guess the fire caught and it became an almost daily thing for me. It was never an obligation to write. I don't sit here wondering what to write, or thinking I should write something. It is true that I write in the negation of the reader. Not denial, never. But when acknowledged, you my readers inspire nothing but love. I must say however that here is not a place created for you, a place where I try to please or entertain you. I come first. That you have decided this place was worth your time, that what you read you can relate to, is for me like and extra blanket on a very cold night.

I didn't even think through the title and the URl. But with time I realize I couldn't have found a more accurate address or blog name. Aspinelesslaugh, taken from Exit music (for a film) by Radiohead is a song that I listened to nonstop in January 2000 when my best friend killed herself. Driving to the funeral I popped OK Computer in the tape player, and from that day, it has haunted me. 

Socrates' citation I had come across while reading about self-knowledge and the illusions we perceive as reality when reflecting upon our responsibilities as individuals. I've always been conscious that there was more to me, to my life, than what I was working so hard to achieve as a person. Being able to deconstruct my own perception of who I am, and deal with whatever I discovered, even if it was to be negative. And yet again, the word negative only applies in the perception of others…

I'm not a whatif kind of person. No whatifs about my past, no whatifs about my future. The past is gone. Not quite buried yet, but dealt with more and more every day. The future… well, the future is made of everything I want to put in it. There is no can't in it either. I've always lived in a way that assured me that there would only be one person to blame for anything I had regrets about. I just can't blame others. I can't. I believe everyone has it in them to make their life better. It may take time, there might be pain, and loss, and hurt. And lessons learned. But at the end of the day, if you have to close your eyes and go to sleep blaming someone else for your woes, then you need to take a closer look at yourself.

And that might hurt more than anything else.

I wrote about crossroads a little over a year ago. I already knew, could express it. But only today can I actually live it. I had all the tools, just needed a little time to figure things out. And so many other posts from my first months, that really were showing me the way. But I was still blind. I just had to go through everything. Had to live this last year here, this way. For weeks now I've been telling the same stories, through different words, sentences, arrangements. And I really feel that this blog would've died with me had I not finally moved on. It's that simple. Life or death. And it wasn't the gun to my head that scared me the most. It was the realization that I was all thought out. That there was nowhere left for me to go but forward. Or die.

I am alive. Alive. I fucking chose to live, and nothing now will change that. Especially not fear. Fuck her. I can even say, right now, this instant, I am happy. Happy. And being scared of saying it, writing it will not stop me. And the dark days ahead I will embrace as warmly as the bright ones. For they will only remind me that I chose life.

Quotes

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*Swans fly and leave what's familiar. Realizing their freedom is what will save them.

*I hope I make it. and I hope u make it too. thanks for reading, even when u didnt want to.

*echoes barely noticeable
 when we think we were right.
 deafening
 when we think we were
 wrong.
 echoes easily heard,
 when we are alone
 "choices echo forever"

*"She's gonna be home soon. . ." he whispered, no answer.
 "I better get up and go to the couch.".  No answer.
 Slowly his muscles relaxed, his breath eased, worried thoughts faded to colorful shapes then nothing.

 

The authors know who they are.

Four men. Four different voices. Three countries, three continents.

Four companions from the start. Some have gone, just now or a long time ago. Some are still around…

Paths were crossed, tears were silently shared, truths were of the virtual kind.

I have loved every one of you. Every one of your words.

I have loved you because you loved me, I have loved you because together it is was ok to be lost.

Distance does make the heart grow fonder.

For distance made it all possible. It just made sense.

And it still does.

Weather you're still reading or not, still writing or not.

You're always with me, lights along my path.

 

_______________________________________________________________________

 

There are thousands of reasons why people have blogs. I hope yours is bringing you as much as it has brought me.

I don't believe it's a small world. I believe it is an infinite one. Of possibilities. Of wonders. Of beautiful words, of beautiful people. Most of whom I will never get to meet, share a drink or a coffee with. But it doesn't matter. We have shared our souls. 

Parle-moi de moi

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Je ne fais pas que crier. 

Je peux chuchoter aussi.

—sSOSs— 

Je fais (encore) un trip de Beatles… Moi qui déteste le fleur bleue, le mushy stuff, je me demande toujours, avaient-ils une fille en tête tout le temps en écrivant? Des fois c'est pas les paroles elles-même mais plutôt comment les mots se fondent dans la mélodie, comment les phrases marquent le rythme. Comme Pink Floyd, Led Zep, Radiohead, les Beatles restent pour moi une mine de découvertes. Je suis la track de bass, ou le rythm guitar, whatever. C'est toujours aussi bon. (Bon, ok, à cause de CHOM, mettons que je ne suis pus capable d'entendre D'yer Maker, All of my love et Money entre autres… anyway…). Sur mon dernier cd, mes obsessions:

1. She's Leaving home (je l'ai déjà écrit ici, she goes downstairs to the kitchen clutching her hankerchief… c'est juste… parfait)

2. Here There and Everywhere (there, running my hands through her hair, both of us thinking how good it can be… ahhhh picture perfect. le bridge aussi, and if she's beside me I know I need never care, but to love her is to meet her everywhere)

3. I want You (She's so Heavy) juste intense.

4. One After 909 (c'est les Beatles débridés, ça sent la fin du set)

5. Why don't we do it in the Road (juste pour écouter Paul se prendre pour John au micro… mais maudite belle job au piano)

6. I've just seen a Face (encore le rythme des mots… I have never known the like of this, I've been alone and I have missed, things and kept out of sight, for other girls were never quite like this) 

7. If I Fell (arrangements brillants, surtout en considérant la toune dans son ensemble, sans structure évidente, et John et Paul qui se promènent d'un couplet à l'autre… pas de refrain vraiment, on dirait plutôt une succession de bridges)

8. Mother Nature's son (pour la guitare, le beat et le calme doux)

Bon, j'en ai 25 sur le cd, mais c'est celles qui me captivent pour le moment. En fait c'est 19 des Beatles, 6 des Wings (nonnnn, pas Jet, ni Band on the Run… merci CHOM)

—sSOSs—

J'ai plus beaucoup de voix.

J'aime mieux écouter la tienne.

J'ai plus beaucoup de mots.

Je puise m'épuise me noie.

Dis-moi. Encore. Avant que j'oublie. 

Realities

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Led Zep - Babe

 

So many thoughts I'm trying to carry through. It used to be of pain, loneliness, my inadequacies, my insecurities. It used to be about the then and some now. A lot of now actually. I haven't been able to focus or concentrate much lately. It's like I've fallen out of touch with my head.

There's something there. I wonder, maybe it's just because I've dealt enough. I've examined enough. The things that I was looking into. Trying to understand. Maybe all I had to understand I have. I used to feel drowned. Life was begging to quit. So I looked. And tried to pull myself out by dealing. Admitting. Facing. What's left might be asking to be put to rest.

Familiarity. As though I do not want to quit the comfortable surroundings of my depression. I don't need a fucking doctor to tell me what it was. And it all rested on one single line. One single phrase. Oh the paths I took to get here.

Now I am looking at new thoughts, new feelings. The unknown. I have no idea how to deal with these. It's easy to talk about the most painful emotions, when it's all you know. I'm all talked out about them. I'm left speechless before the new.

Hope. Love. Happiness. Fuck I'm getting sappy. Hope I now have. Happiness I will get, bursts of light, moments, that's fine.

Love. That's fearsome. To recognize my need for it. Nothing special there… maybe. But how can I ever understand, accept this? To want it. Want it so fucking bad that I'm leaving everything else behind? I might never get it. I might miss the rest of what I have. But I will not… I will not die without giving myself the chance to live with the possibility.

I don't even know how to dream about this. How to write, create, be inspired. I'm afraid. Paralyzed. It's right there, on the verge of knowledge, I hang, I hover. I'm letting go without knowing if there ever will be something else to grasp.

I miss being able to touch the intangible, caress ghosts and float above my well. I want to dive back in, regardless of the cold. But I won't. As with all my hurdles, my changes, my insanities, I will embrace this moment, try to make the most of it. This is real. This I can touch. I can smell. That might be the most frightening thing of all. Reality.

 

Flot interrompu

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C'est un mercredi ben ordinaire. Pourtant j'ai des mots sur le bord des lèvres, des mots que je ne dis jamais, que j'écris des fois, que je pense toujours.

Des mots pour amis, pour étrangers, pour voyeurs et pour les flash in the pans. Tous égaux. J'aimerais qu'ils prennent mes allées centrales. Dégustation gratuite.

Chhhhhhtt… je t'…. oh!

Tellement. Tellement fort que mes lèvres me prient de s'ouvrir.

 

Des images pâles

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Je ne revisite plus depuis un bon moment. Le passé était déjà dépassé. Comment on vit dans l'avenir, dans demain, quand on a encore les deux pieds dans le noir et blanc? Ça commence sépia, je sais, mais ça change tellement vite.

Et comment ne pas me sentir comme une parfaite fucking looser d'avoir tenté de remettre des couleurs dans tout ça? Décapage d'images. 

Je suis dans mon char, 120, les pages de l'album flippent devant mes yeux, les palmiers, l'empire state, la chatte, les yeux, oh fuck, tous ces yeux… Je me souviens, un peu, d'une autre année… Les larmes qui font fondre mon mascara ne sont pas les mêmes. Je ris, c'est mouillé et je jette ma smoke par la fenêtre en négociant la courbe avec le genoux.

C'est marqué. Clairement. MAX 60.

C'est une autre intersection comme les autres. Mais là je tourne, sans flasher, je tourne. Fuck it. Et en regardant dans le rétro, je vois le feu pris dans le décor. Le rideau aussi flambe. Ou c'est peut-être le film qui joue au ciné-parc que je viens de dépasser. C'était sur une autre photo, une chevelle verte avec les bancs en cuirette blanche. Il y avait des trous dans la cuirette je les comptais,  enterrons les cris. Je me voyais toujours mélancolique, même en rock star. Et maintenant que j'ai le volant… Je met the buzz.

Je ne revisite plus depuis un bon moment. Assaillie axphyxiée une lobotomie sur le coeur plus de souvenirs, mais qu'est-ce que c'était? Une impression cheap sur un tshirt à cent piasses. Ça m'écoeure délavé élimé une impression, c'est ce que je disais. 

 

Weekly offering

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Yes,all to:

L'écume des blogues

Now!!! 

—oOSOo—

I just didn't want to to this tonight. Didn't have the energy. Inspiration is always there though, at the tip of your words.

—oOSOo—

As I think about what I've been writing here since the beginning, the changes, the stories, fictional and not so fictional, I realize that everything was a premise for what is to come. A kind of rain check on the inevitable, a silent yet violent therapy.

I haven't lived my life through my blog, rather, I lived because of it. Or resuscitated. Which ever it is, nothing else could've prepared me better. Will I ever be ready is another question. I guess not. Never.

I'm feeling the physical effects of the extreme emotional stress I've been under and it scares me. That alone should be enough warning. 

Also, denying myself of all the love I need to give and receive has made me a very bitter and angry person, and I don't like to hang around too long in my head these days. I miss that.

Despite what everyone has been telling me, I still cannot convince myself that I deserve, that I am worthy, that I am allowed. To. Anything.

It would be easy to blame. To point fingers. But I refuse to do that. In the process though, I have to fucking stop scourging myself. And just move on. Move the fuck on.

The ground has never been shakier. Yet, I'm willing to make one more step. And another one. And another one. 

 

Fear

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Let us not look back in anger or forward in fear, but around in awareness.
-James Thurber

 

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over and through me. And when it has gone I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.
-Frank Herbert (from Dune)

 

You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do.
-Eleanor Roosevelt

 

Talking to you from the other side of a wall in my mind
And it's clear that you're near to me
I think I found a way to understand why I couldn't see what was happening
The fear overcame me
Took a trip on the inside, I took a trip on the inside
–Anathema / (Breaking over the) Barriers