je suis margoooo... there was no photo of me here , so i found this one. its halloween for long . i adore this face of mine, i wish i could wear those colors more often. alter-egos you shall not forget about. i dream of more people with face as insane as this one. no need of reality . but you have to create time like this.
it's sunday, a real day off, where you wish you could be more busy. you could be, there is just no strenght in my legs, my mind is quiet but too much circles in it , floathing in between clouds. and i blow circles with cigarettes, more cigarettes, ate good food. drink red wine.. music. i want to converse with someone interresting. i am in denial with the great ghost that lives in my house, i tried to read in order to avoid them. but things are slow today, nothing last, you cook yourself diner but too soon it's over, the minutes are riding the clock in reverse psychology, making the ours more empty. but you did a lot. you want more. sometimes it feels so good to do such little things. but right now i want interraction, with someone. listen, watch, even spy in a lovely way. i could listen to you play guitar. i could get drunk but that wouldn't change thing, i rarely loose my senses. no matter how far i try to get out of my mind, ill always be one with it. i want tomorrow to come, but falling asleep is outta question, i need something, i truly wish i was more obsess with masturbation, at least that would gimme plenty to do, all alone. but i am almost way too romantic to succeed in this one. i fear the bathtub because the air all arround is cold and blue. too much white . not enough deep. you wanna drown in . so i wait . for i don't know what . for myself to get tired. for pulp fiction to play on the television.

tomorrow will come. maybe i'll be warmer. stronger.

stay home.

good god.. another party i am gonna miss, but i should not care , i wanna go, run the door and ride there even if it's already two in the morning, hello, it's not worth it .. stay .. sleep alone with your friendly ghost . trust them so far they have been great company ... no nightmares. and i am way too stubborn to go out without face paint, i don't like cheap costumes, fuck i wish i had movie watching facility cuz that would facilitate my life alright. it's the only way i can get off thinking about my life. and on top of it i am picky as hell. calmdown, see you are even getting too awake, learn to listen to your body's whispers of ''hey i am tired'' sleep still. you have more to come. nights out on monday , tuesday and so be it .... there is someone you wanna see on monday ... because lord knows how many strange people i met lately, not that they were freaks , i am the freaks, they were just not the type of people i usually meet or get along with ... whoknows i have been an accessible social butter-fucking-fly. for a difference. but the coming back home, and re-runs of my nights have been the strange part, thinking of what i want , because i have an idea really ,and thinking of what happens. a river runs in between these two. so stay aware. but i don't feel like i need any awareness alone home. not much can happen to me . that's why we all go out, to see what will happen. but tonight i'll never know what could have possibly happen to me ... o well. something happn to somebody else. i wish i could know which one of my friends are home alone right now, comfortable, istening to music, i could play magick and appear at their side with the little bit of wine i have left. and perhaps we could fall asleep in each other's arms.. it's been too long since that happen to me ... even my pillows are no more fun to cuddle with .... o sweet romance have you forsaken me... i tought i knew how to pray. praise for you . but maybe i am getting stronger in the cold , getting ready like the wild wolf awaiting frozen days ....

i am truly getting obsess with wolf..... i have to stop writing before i start to make less and less sense

sing me a song

Rid of me

Tie yourself to me
No one else, no
You're not rid of me
You're not rid of me
Night and day I breathe
Hah hah ay hey

You're not rid of me
Yeah you're not rid of me
Yeah you're not rid of me
Yeah you're not rid of me
I beg you my darling
Don't leave me
I'm hurting

Lick my legs I'm on fire
Lick my legs of desire

I'll tie your legs
Keep you against my chest
Oh you're not rid of me
Yeah you're not rid of me
I'll make you lick my injuries
I'm gonna twist your head off, see

Till you say don't you wish you never never met her
Don't you don't you wish you never never met her
Don't you don't you wish you never never met her
Don't you don't you wish you never never met her

I beg you my darling
Don't leave me
I'm hurting
I've been lonely
Above everything
Above every day
I'm hurting

Lick my legs I'm on fire
Lick my legs of desire
Lick my legs I'm on fire
Lick my legs of desire

Yeah you're not rid of me
Yeah you're not rid of me
I'll make you lick my injuries
I'm gonna twist your head off, see

Till you say don't you wish you never never met her
Don't you don't you wish you never never met her
Don't you don't you wish you never never met her
Don't you don't you wish you never never met her

Don't you don't you wish you never never met her
(Lick my legs I'm on fire)
Don't you don't you wish you never never met her
(Lick my legs of desire)
Don't you don't you wish you never never met her
(Lick my legs I'm on fire)
Don't you don't you wish you never never met her
(Lick my legs of desire)
Don't you don't you wish you never never met her
(Lick my legs I'm on fire)
Don't you don't you wish you never never met her
(Lick my legs of desire)
Don't you don't you wish you never never met her
(Lick my legs I'm on fire)
Don't you don't you wish you never never met her
(Lick my legs of desire)

Lick my legs I'm on fire
Lick my legs of desire
Lick my legs I'm on fire
Lick my legs of desire

post in the name of the past

too bad for your eyes, i had a long night out in a bar i feel like i was born into. you see the past never truly leaves me. je suis condamnee. pour l'eternite. live in the now. no tomorrows might be easy . secure i know it'll be on time . but today and the day before i had homeworks. and it's just the begining of a dive through my sad still if it felt like love, sad goes pretty fucking beautiful in scars and ribbons. i present you a tiny little bit of my past ....

i spended all night handwriting on real paper, god it is only sexier... so that's why ... your eyes gets only to spy into my past ...

(believe in fiction, apparently it hurt less)

Morning,it is so true that i don't need to force myself,i have more beautiful writing in the morning when jonathan plays this song ...( like a serenade)
Morning ... Today is the day that i dream of you , but mostly i should dream of things more probable like Bleoo coming to my door , at the most unexpected time. Bruised neck i killed that men if there is one in between us, what more can i do .i hurt him down. to our perfect graves, where i want us to stay . when maybe one day we will meet again, And i might be alone . ..
and people will tell you a world needs to be that way, but love that man, hold him close..

Would you dare to stand more then true to me . because i am stronger then a dead man, stronger then the drugs i use .ephemere. wrong .i might end up clear without the image of your self... my dear beloved (nov.2005) . again you have fail to remember .

And you'd rather leave me like almost Sad. in a white porcelain bathtub, no essences of the perfect smells you adore, only blank water shell , like egg dead and ashes of cigarettes floathing on top of filthy waters . Stain my self ... dream myself ...
it's close to a deadly x-mas, love to my mother who died on the 20 th of december i am going to get my true love, her name is always Lucy ( 4 pawsand eyelashes like you have never seen)....... Marijo st-amour


( this is fragments of letters before i went to t-dot for some-boy ! )
Now january ... snow .. what day ? lucy , no her name was lucie , it is my mother's birthday . maybe, maybe that's why i woke up a little raging, you havn't check your message yet, it's o.k. i'm holding steady, i breathe in i breathe out i had the usual head aches. they are obvious when you are trying to go sober. no alcohol, no powder nothing , for real. it's like travelling, but for the first time of my life in Montreal
city .... where home, where life is , friends , family , all . but love . might be in another city , hours away from here . love , love , love and this time it is not a girl no more.
Gatorade 2 bottles later for headaches ! ( lisa's precious advice for a better life )
i reserved the camera at le GIV , i felt on fire now i am dealing with a freazing ass !
But lucy is watching for me , i am almost nervous waiting for you to call my name , once again , over the freakin' computer ...call.... O romeo where are thou i have fallen for someone and for the first time ever , he is the one that have spied on me, get me , i am apparently the woman in BLUE . water i want to breath you inside of me


(letters others )

So yes yes morning dew , Awake at 8 a.m. my turns , last night a start up ending for my film, i am back at Sala rossa, centro social espanol. .
i am finally out of the maps, out of the reach... Margo with no cell phone , going down the hill ... if you know me you would think this is strange .
Nobody try that hard anymore , to keep on loving you . after you even said the love it was dead... but my dear let me . be .... because i have proven you so wrong , a little funny story i say ... but it made people cry .. funnny and enough to make me cry ... then i smiles.

o.k. apparently i am on the counter clock all you have to do is ring the bells . i think i'm just floathing anyway in between seasons.

Act . 1 called serenade ... a peice , like a melody performed to the beloved by the lover . i wish i could play guitar and sing and touch you even . but i have Bleoo . he is gonna play . bleoo tells me i make unconfortable music , angoissante musique . i have actually found the perfect rif . .. its a spiderweb , the way i dreamt of my hands playing all over your body ...

St-valentine's day .... what a day , i wasn't born to be poor and a total soberland. hell .. running and loosing some precious time. running after lazy dealer and weak pusher looking like hardcore, my ass . one spend a week in my pants and you'll probably move back to your mother's house.sadly serious . R.C must have walked in the door ... O lord .. at least she's loyal and happy on a day of love ... no hate ....i'm there alive and on my way getting warmer . the bathtub . mon corps esseulee repose dans le bain, circus girl all day at school , fucking concordia . i wanna be every teacher she sees , i want to perform incest in such an angelical way, altough i am all at learning. she says no words . but i hear all of her inside.

of course she is late, but times have change and our good habits of careless woman are starting to fade on each others... she is taking a cab . i want (her) to be there ... gimme more then a reason to love y. soft control. i want you to call my name at any strange hours . . days or nights.just say my name . and give me hell of a reason to stay awake . alone i am moving in all the directions. patience , i miss the only show i truly wanted to see , it's o.k. diving together.




today in july .. the best letters i have ever written were for (you) , she left me after showing me what could love have truly been .. in words, in the way we were ..


alone , i will walk straight through the nights .

therefore , one day i might see you , pray.

like the altar-boy . my name is to be re-define.

i will wander in the streets, drinking red wine and cigarettes , write.

there is no more beautiful loser . only me . (thinking of you ) . jami y



NOW

possible conversation ; and what about tomorrows, that girl stting right next to you, looks like she needs an explosion of sparkles, the way shooting stars blows in your stomach, when it rises after midnight.especially when i go out and ride this fucking city . you don't know me . and SHE left, gone with the wind maybe that's why i feel like the whole winter was pretty dry. .. dry dry dry like my mouth . a bout de souffle . assoiffee.. but i want more then that , i want the white snowflakes that usually powder myself...


dear p, dear you, you have forgotten '' how am i supposed to spell the words , emotions are complete.blury. not because i have stopped the feelings, feelings are created, no matter how fast they grow. it doesn't mean we have the rights to lie to them. it's so hard for me to know anything. the worst is time, days after days after days without a sign. nothing not even the sounds of your voice.. i am not crazy enough to hunt you down to school. but i am soon to blow, cuz i can't take it. how can i . every details , notes, words, music, even the cat's whispers are signals of you .and everyone saw you. but i see. in the shadow of your eyes. happy or sad there was always something more. showing . perceptions of your name all over my lips. words . yes. yu are reading. epic not because i tried to convince myself. i was quick enough to create another drama. by whispering my love all over your body .

again, cold. what could i possibly say . anything goes. .. you see some people have addictions. they invented n.a. a.a . and tra lalalalalala. another form of addictions. a social joint for people unstable to face their old reality . i think it's totally o.k. who i am to judge ! no one. but see 1st of it all, i did most research on my addictions then most people will never do. and i realize i wasn't truly ready to get rid of them all, some of them. but not all of them. addictions, passions...obsessions...lack of control. but also control, balance. i do know i am playing with fire and maybe burning the candle by both extremities . but hey ! i'd rather burn indeed then to live in total dark.

cigarettes burning. still 24 yrs old. at least i do believe i wanna live up to a quarter of century.. after that , we'll see .

lately, i have been crying more then a lot. i blow my emotions on fire. new years in sparkles didn't help. substances unclear, limousine. dollars i gain , and vain !!
Surrounded by the sound saxophone. i play guitar. more then i've ever did. once again i am about to go see the ocean. by myself. i wanted her to take me . but she had fears .. '' i can't make it on my own'' you were the lights on. more then a bed time story. proof. i slept barely. . lay in water . don't even bother about the soap.listen to opera. ashes... floating in green spoiled water. no one will keep the curtains close. i might make it on my own, i am still strong . wonder why . and courage. and vampire. blood and tears.only for the sugar addict. i refuse to dry out. even when the cold gets me empty.
here in my bath i see t.v. with another black suspicious cat, always looking at me.dare. so long. bleoo is probably waiting for me. . i am tender flesh. bluest.i have the sexiest bathroom ever. and again the water is burning. i don't even pay my bills.

morning oct 25 th ... day off , i will get to see people later ... '' i envy the wind '' that song drives me crazy ... it's in memory of all the inner pain i felt for a fucking long time, it's winter in fall. it's a snowstorm in my heart in the middle of july . it's cold in remembrance of how warm we were . it's more then that . it's me who will always love you



now .. right now. thursday oct.26 th 3;41 am ...

i could never live without music...

'no instrumental break' ''i will always love you'' the cure performed by tori amos

but apparently i can live without you ....

i will always love you ............................... ( refuse to die )

i will keep on breathing. without you. remember my tattoo. breathe under water.

and all this time i tought spring would melt the ice so i go down in the ocean black

oct.24 th . too late we're 25

TODAY . OCT 24 2006.

i should call it tonight. late again, and i do not feel like bedtime is coming soon. i decided to be a good boy and started to rewrite some, a lot actually of the load of letters to the beloved, it's written so small i am curved in front of the computer . wrong set-up, my back hurts. i wish i could lay down and read it all loud and it would be there on the computer . but see this is only the kind of luck you have little chance to get , and only once you are dead. the typical who's gonna find my life in stories, beautiful even when the words are wrong, because i had no one in my back spying me, there was plenty. people. no one ever truly understand how come you write no matter what ... to escape, to tell , to love, to disappear,, and so be it ... here i am .. talking like i was being interviewed on my work as a movie/slash/trash writer of my own foolish life ... but no matter how sad or low it will get , remember in the end i think i like the pain, i like the tears that went by ... i wanna take you dead or alive , a ghost left in flesh, but to me you can only be history ... because in every last moments, small they were .. un-pregnant. empty i see .... saw you .. i think i will ever love you .. but tonight i have no other choice but to say it . it's close to an end... of course i will always refuse to kill this endless child glowing innocence that will fall for you anytime, any days if you would just say it's o.k.
but i am filled with conscience, fucking clear it becomes when you grow older, sober, stronger . blase putana de madre ... i am telling you ... je pourrais delirer, delivrer comme la parole de mon coeur, de mon cul. tout mes fantasmes, i could screen them in long in large , but remember i am a lover , more romance y lacrimosa.. lamentations to the moon i shall show before i let go of my instincts .. mes plus bas instincts animal... sexual... ( with the 'u' pronounced loud and low )

home, sweet home.. sweet for real, all i have left as in term of food are chocolates, lots of them and red wine, that is all there is. and cigarettes until next week. i am half computer geek right now, downloading tango and pj harvey, writing my past .. it' s hard .. it has nothing to do like school work, i feel like i have to take all the emotions, from dusk t'll dawn, dark to light and find an order, find a sense. there is no end or beginning in real . only fragments of texts i wrote. they are all a bit the same if you generalize la chose, but it's more then that .. i am having stress pulsation just trying to imagine images enough intense, dense, beautiful even so sad to make people feel what i felt. it's not just an artsy fucking movie anymore.. c'est comme le film tout rapide de ma vie... this moment when love WAS lasted not more then 30 days .. and a year after i cannot explain truly all of it ... because i could choose at any minute to dye because this love is gone... the word is dead..and the feeling is lost because it suffocates alone. but i have to bring it alive one last time.... that's all i wanna do .. bring it alive and breathing love . fear no love .. in deep pain. scars of my love ... but no worries i'll remember to call the movie like it needs to be .. serenade .

montreal... alive.

''didn't know what to do, then there was you ..''you told me about this one and only tattoo you would wear , resistance. strong woman. crazy for what she believes in.. but i know she believe strong. i have ( need ) indeed to be true when i lay ink on the paper. i also speak through my eyes, but glasses makes it hard to see. or maybe it's loud itself in a bar like this... watching drag queens and karaoke, i drink beer like water, it's all new for a scotch lover ...
i am back home late , rewriting the words i had left on peices of papers but now , i feel like writing in between the lines... we met , once before, you are calm in a way that could explode , in a sharp way.. easy to talk . but tonight , i stopped when i realize.
i don't think i could. resist you . there were , your eyes, semi-closed sometimes et ses lignes si definies e votre visage ... lips... insane .. my eyes were open but it's like to remember a dream . a dream in a crowded bar. i wanna see you in a room where all you can ear is piano, the mouths open of strangers , moving lips but no sounds , only yours i can see. listen. someone's hands dense on the piano keys. and i would get back to scotch... tonight i had to look somewhere else , by sight .lightly. unless i would have gotten hypnoized like a fool by your eyes, eating me. could it taste sugar if you'd see.


i know it's hard sometimes to believe one can write . with no fear of how deep down i can crawl to feel . inside. my guts and mind. .. your words were ink and sweet sounds in my ears, ''please call me '' . i will . you know i will, before you do , maybe , that's an easy move. movements.

home, still. letter to myself. cigarettes and i had to open a bottle of wine, it's 3;30 i am wide awake , i'd rather write non-sense, then to fall for the drugs, it's a sober night , well some people like to create all as a drug, so yeah i am drinking but water could be worst for my health right now... trust me . it's hilarious my dad's girlfriend smokes weed and ash and she told me she finds drinking people looks older, in their face, expressions, like rusty body .. but i like old, and her mind his more crooked then any drunken i've known....
–adjective
1. not straight; bending; curved: a crooked path.
2. askew; awry: The picture on the wall seems to be crooked.
3. deformed: a man with a crooked back.
4. not straightforward; dishonest.
5. bent and often raised or moved to one side, as a finger or neck.
6. (of a coin) polygonal: a crooked sixpence

i fucking love the dictionary... see i am aware of knowledge... like a true studious boy . right now i wish i could shut off my mind and go to bed. but you have to spare time, and i'd rather spare words then spare change as in loosing my money ... seriously everytime i manage to hold myself sober, away from snakes and drugs , i should buy myself a present on the day after. tonight i rode a cab back home because i can afford it. and tomorrow i am going o rescue my guitar from the pawnshop , and then i can even buy myself a coffee and a new tire for my bike, all that easy , it's money lost , but better then money burned.
i will soon even give lots of con to one ( two ) of my good friends because money drama are the worst .. trust again i know what i am talking about . i am good at spending money , but thank god i am also really good at making some .. it's all a perfect circl, can be viscious if you go back spirals , but if you can keep the balance then it's easy to live . live. and forget you know how to destroy. forget.
but wait t'll you have to forget the most quick efficient side of you .. i have two. i can love t'll death ...... and i can hurt myself way better then anyone does.
it's true peole think that life is hard and painful, life should be like mr.Miller says so ;'' the aim of life is to live, to live means to be aware, joyously,drunkenly,divinely aware.. '' all that , life can be boring and redondant, an everyday that comes back in every way , but still the same, quiet even, but it is.. i am learning to manage those annoying dense's slow days, they appear to you the more you grow up, i didn't believe so but no i breathe into it. and i am quite calm, you learn fast how to look back from the inside dreams you've kept preciously.

those precious things. tonight i tought about it twice , love, it's a feeling, it's more then what most people think it is. but i told gently to myself that i should think of romance indeed, like first time you call someone out, and all the nervously good that comes with it, it's worth being alive. aware. i think i might follow my instinct, we are all good at making friends for a night, social birds, i want more... winter is about to knock it hard so i'd rather become a wolf then a little birds, worst a butterfly, fuck that shit ! if truly you could see me you would understand, i don't carry the same kind of feather a bird grow.. i am a hunter .

truth is i have to be scared....

letter to myself, the immortal junkie have changed.... in a good flakie way... i remember in the past it took me a whole lotta nights druged on by anything, i went through insane phase my whole life... times where white nights in a row, ith school, work, frends and somekind of family on top of it ... then i moved to Montreal, discovered i could play adult ( smile ) and get smashed in my appartment incognito... i have had the worst reputation, no wonder how i had to keep it quiet .. once i o.d. on heroin, it was my second life time, and two days later the whole community arround me had putted a junky signs on top of my head... they start to worry when they hear about your death, that sometimes how it goes.. but i get to usually worry before i even tell people...3 years ago i use to be a rock addict , to the core... i could write for days on how hell i have lived, but i ain't give a shit about dpressing my self with hell of a good melo-dramatico segment of my life ... the past is over ... but never forgotten ... you are most vulnerable if ever you see it , sometimes i do understand these people that quit drugs and quit every single things or people related to it ... i won't , will never , it's a big part of my life , and for most of it i have no regrets.. except this one..... this one hell i tasted for so long , ell why , sour taste, because you are empty , if a drug takes my hands away from writing or my words away from talking non-sense, then this drug is obviously not good for me .... point ... the money is an issue .. i am punishing myself the good way by sticking to my original plan to go to Toronto even with no money , a lesson .. it might indeed be good , to relearn i can , use to survive .. way better then my own little lazy self .. i work my ass all week to burn in smoke he fruits of my fucking labor , that's bullshit .. that's dishonesty, unloyalty, un-AWARyness to my own self.. and i need no one to tell me whether it's good or bad or fine if i don't do it again ... i am the ONe to feel here .. no mater how many stereotype there is , i try my best to fight against them , and i ned no one to pull that shit on me ..

so tonight , early night cuz i got to be a good boy , and go to bed.. ( but my hands move too fast ) i left my home alone to go pick up a bit of money somewhere , not actually for food , but probably for some good old scotc-whyskey in toronto.... but finally i decided to let go ... cry baby cry , they say it's good for you.. i had to tell someone of my sin and i did chose the god someone, because she ain't no fucking NA, no she is this charming woman i know, a pirate and a grande dame, the kind of friend that tells you it's o.k. to be a fuck up, t do fuk top, and to redeem o fuck me up !!! we talked of th epast , th enow, and this NEED of tomorrows... i know i need them , but to need them is also to be aware of them... aware, joyously,drunkenly,divinely aware ( the aim of life is to live .. henry miller )

and i am not aware when i miss the food and water my body and brain need for a living, it pays a whole fuckalot to have them , so indeed they request respect an dcare ... c.a.r.e. .. it's the word of today ..
and i am at this fragment of my life where i need care , cuz agai i like to blame it all on my mid-20's crisis, but i need to be carfull about tomorrows, and good sweet morrow i will smell the coffee in less then 9 hours away from now i choose to awaken for a journey i have been dreaming off for a whil,, and yesmy body will be tired becaus eit havn't slept at all last night ... but there will always be time to rest , and right now i am feeling my head aches a little still, but my soul as taken a rest for tnight ... i could put weights of all th ebad and th eugly onto my shoulders, but my aunt always told me i put to much anyway for nothing , i don't have too... tonight i will listen to her before listening to my past or future.. or n.o.w. .. i willl only listen to her faded voice in my memory , try to imagine even what could my mother have possibly told me when i was a kid so i go to bed a little early ...

sweet dream shawnda, sweet dream faby , and hopefully l met you mother along the nights to come, if i feel in the ocean red ...

snakes...

i think i have only few minutes to write , so i shall use them good... the devil is a snake... i wish someone else could explain that to me, but who th efuck ever respond on the net... like i said before it's a conversation to myself..... so both the angels and the snakes are part of me.... as much of an angel i can be , you don't really burn down the snakes.. and it makes actual sense.... devil's related to fire... try motherfucker to burn down the fire... good luck...and good hopes .... but i have a part insane inside me,, it's a gift i cannot , and will never deny , from my mother , the ocean inside... but in the city i live in, it's hard and a constant struggle to make an ocean alive in a serpent's world..even this girl i like a lot told me she was a fish and i was a serpent... she must have not known my knowledge of the bad... the worst ... sometimes i am just so aware on how criminal we are unhealthy, in the way we eat, in our addictions... no wonder i find smoking good for myself.... smoking arsh cigarettes and drinking scotch and herbal tea seems like a way healthier solution then th efood i eat everyday at my job... but it's free..not all is free, the after-midnight snacks are not .. and the going away needs arn't as well... but for all ou live , there is a price to pay , i lik eto comvince

that's it ..... I WIN .. I AM AN ANGEL FOR TONIGHT... NO LIES... I DID IT .. CALLED AWAY THE SNAkES IN ORDER TO BE KEPT PURE N WATER

i love it ,,, some of the few that knows me could read in between the lines..

snakes; comes after midnight when you feel weak but son't even know it ! you only feel like a piece of shit, more then week after then enlace your whole body, left your soul thinking too much ..

the angels; are those who choose to go to bed even awake tormented by their beloved demons. but they are blessed through their dreams, unknown, so they awake with more wings, wings made of steel...

tonight don't ask me why , or how it happens, but i am going to be an angels of light ..

sleep...sleep..no matter what .. romy would say so,,, do the same....
hopefully i'll dream of love

un ecrivain seul , c'est de la folie , parce-que rien ne l'arrette... M . DURAS

days left

3 more workin' days before i get to run away .. and gracieusete de migghan i get to run away with a the cure album, all i need, cigarettes, a 26 oncer of scotch and to be sitting in whatever van that'll take me away ... i have been dreamin about it, every day ... i have one only worry , some of my friends there havenot been receptive to my request for a place to sleep, i hate to beg , i am also really succeptible and take shit personnaly , i ant help it , i have been like this for a while , some of you are rough to change, like your name stuck, yur family, a lot of bad habits, they are part of yourself.... i know peoplewith crazier caprice then that , but i love them. i just wish the people i want to see would also want to os me... i know i would host pretty much everybody i know... new music into my life... a craving for drugs, but i am being hardcore resistance since the only thing i can get deliver to my door is way to expensive and addictive, i have a bit of scotch left so i'll sip carefully try to think of something else.. this moby song called porcelain does to me the ame effect it must do on everybody who have seen th ebeach , th emovie, it feels like the ocean in south somewhere hot, burning hot.. with turquoise water ...
it's funny my addiction to chating on the net , i am writing random to people and everynight coming back t my home expecting mesage from a couple of people i truly wanna hear about , but there is only one trustable stranger that writes long messages to me... i will meet this person soon enough to feel where this interest will go , it's strange but they say you should expect romances to be unexpected, from the people you would have never tought. so maybe i shou dstop waiting for what's obviously not coming my way th eway i wanted it to ..... and let time be, leave the days aloe they will go on , their path in your life, breathe in breathe out when you need it most . go away from this fucking screen , you;re sitting in th ewrong way , careless of the comfort of your back... careless of the mess arround you. all you care is words to everywhere, words no one knows really exist for now, a moie to make, to write your guts, drink and smoke.. go to bed, go lay down with a book , this amazing polish lady gave you th ecreme de la creme to read et tu n'est meme pas foutue de tourner les pages, instead ou are waiting for a call from destiny that is especially not ready to come your way , or even worst it's hiding in between the books themselves, you are too sure of yourself your life you believe it stand hiding in the same pages you are turning over and over, but there lays only lies and fake lullabies., the ones you dream awake in your bed all night t'll dawn..... lies for all my lullabies, start living for fuck's sake .. there you go i have reach it , the magick point where you start to talk to your own self, i know few, but really a tiny little few people that can crush me down with truth , about th evisions i am addicted to , and the most reliable is me.... most of my friends are way too carefull , and they believe most i'll say, i am good because of that or sad or stone or rehab or clean, ... believe in my voice, i am a preacher that can be so honest , even when i choose to lie...

hard to believ ( smile ) but trust .. blind fuck ....who knows i am the one to repeat there is no need of reality .. more brilliant then me said it already .. .Fellini ..

rain... let it rain all day

october 3 rd .. 2 '33 pm,,, that means i unfortunately have to go to work soon, eat more mexican food. the last text i posted here was sad day , i am and was feeling better the day after that , they are usually short drama... my roomate is finaly ere, she is a casual talker. another like didi to make me realize sometimes i enjoy a lot the voices in my head. 5 more days and i'll be away to Toronto, finally , i am excited that i'll get to stay at greyden's house for a couple of days,more homo for a healthy week, it's his birthday too.. i got news from pike , i had to tell her if she comes to Montreal when i'm in her city i'll have no other option then to kick her ass, for real.
i wrote to brescia, and i tought icould stay at her place but no answer which is sad, but what can i do, i ain't gonna cry . i have better to do, for real. i have to stop thinking or no, stay in my head t'll i leave, work non-stop... go out on saturday, yes believe it or not i am gong to the village'd drugstore for a late pool party, meeting this girl Ashley, another girl boy in between, my new addictions....

i could write, more deep, but i ned a shower, i need to wake up my body, my mind is there , but the body is asleep....

it's raining and i want rain for the next hour so i can take the bus ..

bloody sunday...dark days

sunday is the day off. i get paid on saturday, i am a big spender. my act; stupid. result; nroken body and broken wallet. guilt; almost not; just feel stupid. it will go away if i eat good , re-work the money i spend and move on, but i am way too aware to be a think-not kind of addict, i use to consume my life at a fair cheap price, now i do it less often but i went in the high prices. result; no good, i need to leave, for a week, i need good stuff to happen to me in this city i started to make appearance in , Toronto. people say it's not that great over there, it's not as good as montreal but the people, people my style aree better to me. i always fall in love, then come back dreaming, but coming back to where you left and changes no means nothing after a while, i need to get traumatize, more, my heart wants to be shaken. m.o.r.e. my appartment is already getting better , Sam is now here, she just got here, builded her room, faster then me, it was motivation so i put a damn curtain as a wall to my bedroom, we definitely need a kitchen table. my aunt was making fun of me when she asked if i had gotten one, i said no like i am wondering what could be the use of it , but she says my roomates are probably a little more in need of something usefull like a table to eat on. make sense. god today is a day i would love to be at my grandma's, eating potatoes and overcooked meat even. but instead i am home and i have to decided at some point between an onion or an egg, but no bread, no oil, no sweet fucking nothing. i shall just pretend i am doing a cure, i have old chinesse's finest tea, i probably could last longer then i think on that. and grow better. it feels so cold right now, but i keep the door by my computer open cuz i smoked so much all night and i truly don't want my roomate to run away suffocating, it's a dark day, i will stay low profile, real low. she 9 sam) is already getting so much phone calls , it makes me realize i have lived like a total writing hermite since july, no one has my phone, except Didi, but she wouldn't need it anyway, she knows exactly where i live, strange i havn't seen her lately.

i don't say it enough like i feel like i have no rights but i miss pike so much, lately i have been sending e-mails to everyone i know in Toronto, no answer, brescia, Greyden, Pike.. so maybe i am going there to see Adrian, it's a far ride just for a beer and scotch, but i can't stay here, it would be wrong. so wrong . driving me nuts to the core.
the colors outside are dark but it would be perfect fr film, it's not completely grey, it has kept the colors of fall with no sun, soon there is gonna be no light. no light. i am ridiculous with the internet, i can't watch movie so i go on friendster and check people's profile, you actually get to learn more with people's profile then random strangers you see on the streets or into bars.

i went to see the day , i got my true love back, my baby Lucy ... the sexiest german -sheppard ever ... . it sucks about the rain , because whe could have gone out longer, but i hope she don't mind..the closeness inside... i talk about my dog like i talk about a lover.. she is ... ..
enough words for right now ,,, i feel like a 8 yrs old girl writing in her blue covered journal...