the only love . perfect beauty .

i left mi casa in a rush tonight. probably this habit of leaving, attending soirées and god knows where i really wanna be there is more sunshine. unbelievable this winter not so bad but i a truthful miracle i stayed in this city. all about changes. formal school boy and i want more. faster i use to be the one in prays for patience. but that exist in passionate affair falling days. il y quelque jours de ca. an old friend to make me realise un génie ca frôle doucement la folie. dur à cottoyer. but that's o.k. it was better then a roller-coaster, a fairy-tale riding over the road where speed limits are peanuts for the pirates starving glory. seriously. o ley mary months maybe the feel of a century since i've written publicly. but that's o.k. je ne résiste plus en ce qui attrait au mot. le plus clair. précis. aiguissé. aiguille. n'est-ce pas assez.
un avant-goût de notre mission défi, j'en reste là après maintes exquises de me suggèrer. allez-vous tasser. . say it again . one more time just so i smile insanely crazy . i wish you would stay .

dans la distance jamais je n'ai cessé de creer. i feel your eyes tender smiling at me.
this ghosthly love of me.

o crazy . it's been a long long time.

that i havn't dared putted a paw over this page.
probably part of it comes from me beign pissed that my website got deleted.
why . communication for the sake of mary . or henry. or truly tonight i think bukowski.
it's somehow my last night of being bad. hi hi hi . well bad lately is nothing compare to the old bad me. or when the party animal people downtown are going bad. is when i only have wishes to keep up with the grandma or grandpa in me now.
my dear oldest friend Jonathan was right about some things, some not. since i've known him we tend to get amores in dual i understand why he never leaves the house. to a certain extend. j'adore et ne crois en aucun cas pouvoir laisser cette vie d'écrivain qui me séduit souvent plus que qui compte .. and o so true as i am telling you .. because i am not crazy like they tend to say .

i have just made my choices for 2010 .
deux vies. la première consiste en l'écolier. massage thérapY. shiatsu. why o why . cuz i have magik hands. and it calms me down. discipline. i love tcm. i love herbal tea. i love to heal.

o second choice. as a listen to charles bukowski. sa voix. et puis l mienne.
l'écriture. there was Margueritte Duras qui encre en moi . un écrivain seul c,est dela folie, car rien ne l'arrêtte. et bien d,autres.
what really matters . is me . mais moi seule c'est triste à l'oublie. des mots des mots, mon coeur je l'ai réalisé cet océan. la tout juste maintenant .i want to be honest with my past . ces muses de ma vie elles m,ont appris. et moi-même sans même sauter de train, marche pellerin. chagrin je n'en consomme plus.
je suis là. ma clé je l'ai décrochée, ma nuque un poême tranchant. beauty. melancholy . i do not carry . le regrets de ces âmes en suspend. when i stretch my legs, arms in body je suis. ici. assis. avec ce chien d'amour de Lucy. i went a little too late to get her. Gamble the mother, i am a lover slowly crawling the staircases for those eyes. look me in the eyes where there are no lies.
il y a plus que ca dans tout ca. i want someone to show me love . slowly. rebuilding past history.. i still believe in risk.
soon my name will expand au reflet de mes rêves d'enfant ésseulé.

Marijo Yorrick St-Amour .

mes rêves deviennent réalité.

passion needs patience.

je veut aiguisser mes oreilles, mes mains, écouter tes silences. l'écho de ton regard. il y des soirs ou je rêvasse encore de tes yeux profond, cet océan j'ai rêver les détails incertains résiste toujours l'inconnue du comfort en moi. i m not scared.. even when the lights are dimmed and shutted black.. i see clear.. i feel my heart light and free.

o words.are falling storm. i want tenderness

november 18th, woke up too late for editing, althea is gone, tobin also i have changed his money. break rest.
saw christine at the corner o fst-laurent , she is good , i'm bad, no i think i am sad. why does it have to feel liek so much pain the feeling alone is empty you have left me. hurts in much, such a trial, crying. anger is about prays on my knees, why did yo even tought of coming so deep to take me, did you had a single clue how many time this has happens to me . you had no clue of all the sorrows and fear Jami's gotta gun, and it's gonna bleed. never turn on the bullet, i let it shot gun inside. detention on the paper. and ink falling did you see it like it was nothing. bloody sunday, in grey i cannot believe last night , i am not pure. but even with only a couple of hours sleep i woke up effective, better then a robot. and i function crazy. when the guilt kicks in that's what i do. cleaning, physical works real goodeven when my body and soul are frozen. but will this winter be any different. i do hate waking up without this 100 % of myself, last night i had to cry and i did not . so many journals no more i live on a film strip. but the wind blowing in me is name crazy. let me fly out of me, with you . , and you show me trains like railways of addictions , but we are creatures in the wild city, i am a risk taker. and a night tale believer.

technology gives me headaches. Romy is damn right , sleep . eat. sober sleep. notice your dreams .
i am happy there will be a circus girl with a wild wild tail giving some class, for terrible student , in Bella Muse. she has amazing writing, written on the body, in flammes to keep fragile warrior comign back to the lesson they should be taken,. some kind of discipline has never been bad.

there we go. tears, let it go. out. let me breathe, let me stay. . i never asked for you to let me go. O.. i did it again . yesterday .
fucked me over and over. it's so over, tattoos on the skins like another circus song. i wouldn't last any longer, i tried to write down in hopeful studies the reasons to be a good good boy.. but i ran away without you. will never stay , you are a dream gone mad into reality...
the word i wrote in transparent disease in order not to see it quite so steade , already .. cuz i am still a young lady .. this words is my tombstone honey ,, ,empty .
and on a day like today i asked myself why did i do it . hurt me, no one needed but the killer in me to d such things. answer in blank paper satin story for dead dreams you sure do not envy that. . i'd rather cry then to do drugs in my castle appartment alone. lay . lonely.
keep your eyes open even water makes it better , when i close them i see the sand it' s a desert empty.

another sunday, dan the man who plays tobin's step daddy came to rescue me. rescue him. rescue all.. incredible i do not sleep. maybe one day. a silver mt-zion playing some musique de chambre, sad , more piano, he has not been drinking damn nuts. i need a piano, let me be . but i have trouble breathign since you have left me. how come we x-pose ourselves so fast into the world . prays for the lover.
i possess mysefl no more. alone in the ocean black, and you had no clue i would keep on loving you . in dept. in deep,. black sea.
in another morning just for you , you could never believe where i am , the scenes where you arre missing... Jonathan held me last night. convaincu de patience, we are sad and happy together. why. because we are in perfect exchange of ourselves, i woke up goo dfo renough of a second to start teh coffee and run run run in the bath. i knwo he woke up sad. but sad in our hands meant a melody, and i remember he told me you play best in the morning... guitar.
i left th edoor open . cuz i think i don't mind my body. my body is .... so take it. and it's grey enough to light up a candle. and coffee in trays with cigarettes. i envy the cup you have been posing your lips on to drink it's liquid. . home . where you lay. maybe not, time has left you , left me in a flash many film strip. maybe i will invent a new type of sinema, 33 films strip seconds, faster , more days without you .
what if you would be here. probably making some kind of breakfast for the beautiful ' losers' but we had it all. i could be melting in a bath reading some kind of broken words for you . but instead i am pretty dry. half my body soaked in the water. no more bubble kill the sweet essence. plain water. i remember you loved the way i smelled. now i'm falling cigarettes, ashes in the water, and my back dream of your touch.what if you would be here, maybe i could cry. already there is this tension knot in my stomach. if i had a diamond i would probably throw it in the sea. asking you to stay with me, so i know i will never die. if i had an option play back in my movie, i would go back in time-line asking you to stay with me, because it felt so warm and almost safe to freeze away with you. now i am diving inside where i can lay dry in the ocean black. melody you have left me. and i feel like inking down the moment, the moment stopped . and life is cruel, have kept moving so fast nothing is true because it feels way too much real now that you are not here. ..
here inside with me . where i kept an image of your eyes ... but last night i saw you they were not looking for me. and we have lost thi sperfect beauty. ... time is ugly. whenever you are not here with me,, and it will rain. rain, until december. starts ,. fall then it will be too late. i will be frozen somewhere. you can't touch me. so please won't you come risk and take me ...
you have no clue how truly i'll be if you come and get me before the sea starts craving to eat me, and shuts down the lights...

more text .. then appeared what would become another sentence for you , in scars through my body. it'a all worth the pain, some people like the high rush of needles for a heroin trick or treat .. me wrong..
'i envy the moon that watches you dream, and i lay still in the ocean black.


words for you , for you, and for me there is cramps over and easy in my stomach. i still can't sleep. and i am closer to a point where i have too. i tried to go to an Na meeting, whenever i can fit them in my hell of a busy schedule. smoking cigarettes and coffee for the one we adore. just to see. it might be quite nterresting and fulfilliing my nights . see. i have papier russe falling down my eyes . list of things to do by day. and believe me lady i am more then creative in ways to fill my days. an dnights but i want you. to hold me. the songs you have left me, how sweet our love could be. show me truth. weeks an dbroken times in which i haev learn to breathe in a world without you . .. but th edistance are getting closer to the smell of death. never return my words, neither my calls, nor the cries in harmony to the moon stilll watching me.
your words to tell me how one should stay when they fear, but you went away. where did you go, how have you been . how can you be so careless. do you have toplay me that way to protect yourself from what ever love you use to praise . . i'm dying upon the memories you have left me .. pascha . remember this. the only one i wanna see is yoy.. i feel so dry without you . what can i possibly do in the sand cut me air in despair.
2;08 and i will not call you . my body rolling in tears and smokes in my bed and the lights so white. i am so fucking full of respect for your truly indifference.that this is when i know my ( !!! ) will on eday be taken to heaven.
with or without you .. i will still.
be the one writing the words .
saying i am still fuckin gthere.
in love... waiting for you and my body is stronger then this winter.
4 years ago i almost died in the cold.
but see my heart alive... myblood.
became gold and i flame in.
black allover thy self. won;;t you be true to you .
in remembrance o fthe lost i choose . to find myself . but love will always be a story o fduality.

all around me it's all a mad mad world even tough i need t sleep , rest eat and tra allalala a i find it kind o ffunny . kind of sad.
but pretty special i can't stay inside myself forever. cuz then i might miss all of the sunshine rays. '' the dreams in which i am dying are the best '' bbut i don't remember my dreams people say they hear my tormented sleeps. noizes. no tomorrows. i fin dit hard to tell you . i don't know what's gonna happen . went t skool no one knew. me. the childrens are ther eto remind me . it' s a very mad world but i like to stay.
the music is going way faster but the melody i sall one need to have a .. rhthyms in my everyday life i write in blck ink but i see every drop fine line in red. . and crazy trains . millions of peopls living alone , me and some of my true friends. to jump on crazy trains. .. you got to listen to mad world , and i will . listen . people get totally attached to the lonesome cats that we are.

i was very nervous.

hello teachers what is my lessons , the Bella muses . i am here to stay and learn inside me .
i am not what you want . i fell off my bike again, . crazy . i was suppose to stop at a friend's house. at this very last minute i thought of calling my friend juliam she is a better nurse.. she might not fear the blood.

today, decembre le 16 . words, images , sounds and movements, all turn into an emotional concept. i read more and i write lately, just to keep a little but of culture.vorace. now that the letters to the beloved are on print i can open a new chapter. more letters to come. for everything goes. in words even i am overwhelming to myself. especially when i forget about the balance , about rhythms. but try, i am always working. Valerie called me and concluded we are beat nick little fuckers. for real. i heard this man and his son in the bus cabin, shouting Montreal is crazy , 40 centimeters of snow. , o well i am doing more then fine actually. nothing to impress me right now.

more letters in the bathtub, once again. loud bar waiting for tessa, sunday knocking on the door. tonight another night out, soon money will be o.k. i am not completely off th edrugs. but hey Rimbaud wasn't any perfect. nor any of the velvet underground like my sister prays . even my dear favorite lady Margeritte Duras... not perfect. junkies alcoholics, also heart body and soul.




another .. one more. Are you sick yet of editing your heart ..


dear amore.

-i read your words more then once. because i have been again going through storms. but you know what . i don't fucking care your words and the rhythms of your hands will be the next one to ink me down. . i . wil send you a zine copy on the web in within a day , my new friend esther, who calls me now 'lady pirates' me apparently , who too the form of a certain poet whitman or something like that from 1880 or so, you know me , my memory , i dont even read much cuz it has been in dreams , i never lie to you an will never, even when you are far from my eyes, never will i deliver lies. you .. and your child i love like my own . like a grandma boy coral call me, one that looses memory , but i will get it back, i have not set my last word and truly mark my words..

i will give birth to words t'll my bones and skulls are buried and even then i am pretty sure you will hear me whispers in between drops when the rain falls, my blood is. the ocean in within me, and in within you also i saw it from that first day i got amaze by your beauty standing on the stage at a certain casa del popolo, this book, the malady of death which i use to call the malady of love, has changed, .
revolution my darling. i saw a woman doctors 3 days ago who said i had every right to bitch at my feet without a move i would have been in a wheelchair by the age of 40 if it isn't so. my hammer toes trapped supporting diformation since a childhood. but it's o.k .. i went to the mile end, wrote 2 pages, drooling ink so naturally that's the real ability gifted hands i say they are Lucie's hands, immortal weapons. i sharpened my nails .. got in a little argument with my little castle meagan, her telling me she does skool, band fucking pop practice, homework’s , beers and parties, and playing my therapist ,. she said to me if i can share with friend's like Shawnda my darken days and sadness clouds after 2 and more demanding suicidal calls from a daddy i will love no matter what , cuz he acknowledge he is my daddy and truly i know he loves me. and yes it never was easy for me to give up the snow flakes in greenish pcp, when i lay in bed alone , at night , she think i do nothing , and watch tv, .
perhaps i don'T even know who the fuck is the president of our national barbarian's country .. i am the gentleman. I wear my ties around my waist for now, less metal, more smoothness in the structured bones I am on my way to become a dancer, I have not registered for the feminist and look at me I am a tramp integrating paperwork’s for my teachers.
It’s o so cold tonight the dishes pilling in here, and the furnace are in my heart. Boiling for romance to come along the day I let go. Again of all I have gain in this winter. I keep the words and images. Awaiting for.
For no one but me. You and me . and the memories in which I smiled .
I am leaving soon. For my family, I will be here to celebrate a rock and rolling wedding . my dear aunt Faby is awaiting me to help in the house, my grand mother alone I can’t wait to hear her stories. And I like to see in the days she reads and struggles for another millions soup to warm up another winter soul in delirious. Also good news I will ride the infernal greyhound with the money I will sell my body if I have to , in order to go see my dear Romy Ceppetelli, in Sudbury, in a town lost. Where the brilliant boys are preparing with an assault of art that comes from the heart.

L’un est l’Art, l’autre ’Amour. À jamais.. pour toi mon ange, tu brille d’un noir, une couleur qui me remplie, des odeurs a craquer les ciments , les paves, les soirées froides, you deserve this love, his name. Merlin.

L’enchanteur. Merlin, remember you are there with a woman unpredictable, a woman digne de ces chariots ensorcellés,
digne de cet amour, ce sort en es jeté . to live forwards the day .

yours. Marijo St-Amour


it never stops , I am a word-a-holic.

Now . june 17th I suppose. Good lord esculpa the sins I left falling so softly on me tonight. I have been reaching, or well visiting a state of mind sober nor so pure. For a little while. As I wish outside this city. As I return, to an old friend we have been talking to live together since I was 20 , and 7 years later it shall happen. I had doubts , wondering if I should push my luck and also contacts of hospitality in this city. But my body likes to find his peaceful rest, the nest in where I can hide and write. And do as I wishes to. Just to imagine myself on someone’s couch forced to listen to their daily crap, to their barking out loud on all the peoples they have seen all day. I care not. Tell me lies and I will vanish out and again on my bike. I’d rather find the perfect strangers who knows better lullabies, or still I know exactly where to find poetry. Indeed.
Let me loose out on the side walk , so I can pray for rain to piss on me. Solid and suave. In dress you may walk by, in dreams you come right to me , in my eyes you reflect the sound of crystal. Nothing was ever meant to be white. What they sold you to be so pure is what I traded for multiples black and red in wall paper nature. It’s out and everywhere, only you need patience, mistakes and time falling just to see this moment that feels really wise . truly wise for now.
You and me . and here I blow you study of the way they predicted it would be . there will always be nights you wishes to disappear and the ones your only desire is to froze into the clock and rest in here. Just where I reach a kingdom who sadly will last like a framed cloud.



June later.
Shawnda you were in a lovely mood today, I cought yu right on time before departure. Toronto. I have your place for a week. And it make sense. It also helps me finally decide will I take this room in hochelaga for july. No. I feel sorry I do for an old friend who acted so welcoming to me. But I can’t , I do not know everything about my case, but I know without a doubt that I will never put a dime aside if I get a place , the east end on top of it sounds already like an endless trip and a slow return. I need to focus . on getting lost further , as far as another country. Seriously . I spoke to a friend just to help in the insecurity you get with aging I guess. France. I will find a place to be . money to make. It makes it easier when I have nothing to distract. No drugs, no more old friends to be waiting for. No project on hold to get tortred by. Only my hands as a tool to survive. My feet shall follow.
I feel sad and I think It suits me for now, a week now to sleep alone on an old couch in a room I know, in a space I feel home.
No need to answer the phone, not that usually do in this city since I am one of the rare one to have none. Send me words and I will find you. You filter the ones who may impress you these days. No one fucking know how to write a god damn letter.
They texted me while I was walking down another street going to another bar. Why don’t you try shoving down your throat some more pàté from a vernissage, you need to stand as an artist . o fuck even that vegetarian story . I like the Italian deal, sausage and bread, do not forget the butter.

Later . the night has fallen long ago. Probably everyone I know is out somewhere in a party drinking, and I carry absolutely no regrets for riding back to this home In where I can hide for now.
All night and even before I got to this café I know by heart, but tonight I needed to feel like the perfect stranger, you could say admirer. I was nervous in daylight, am I looking sober enough. Who cares but me really . right now. I think I was worried about talking with you. I stopped at Julie’s house just enough time to observe Zach, and let me tell you children tend to calm me down in the most perfect way. The minute I got inside the crowded university is over we invaded your sidewalk fully, o so trendy kids all over. I found an old chair hiding lonely in the back of the room, calling me to rest and write. Duras , ces mots plus que vrai lorsqu’elle vous dit; ‘L’écriture por vous sauvez.’ Et tout simplement une page et des echoes pour ta présence sont nés.

Now I will lay words and stop thinking. Stop believing. Stop the world it makes no parts for tonight in my play so anyway.
I hide my skin from any outside touch, even my own sensations I get from the dreams in which I visit you. No you visit me. There to stay . cuz I dream I am born the child inside king, and there is no land for anybody without a sharpened soul wiling to let it shine. Even when blurry it’s blood or water they screened my heart in all the space beneath my eyes. did you see. I danced towards you. did you see. So many eyes have gone blind without me Did you know I was there awaiting the feeling I use to get it solid in your silences. In zeus fucking god’s theory the poets if chosen De par une Muse qui dépose en surcis son regard Fallen any trace of reality. I was witness to your act
Perfectly fallen on me your eyes I don’t need to remember , it’s so easy just to leave with their souvenirs carved in photographic display of my inner body. Art floating somewhere only your lips on mine could ever see. Performing nor tragedy nor comedy, but reality as it doesn’t appear to me so easily.
I chase the dreams like a cougar hungry for until his life his no more. I don’t know if I will even dare to sleep tonight, I have wishes but you feed me , a savior for savor. Per siempre.



J’aurais pu m’en tenir a relire tout ce passé , facle de savoir que je ne suis pas si docile. I’d rather write nothingness then to look up the ceilings. There is already a story in all the walls surrounding me and it belongs to a dear friend so In respect I am forced to keep alive ce discours avec vous. Avec toi, sans meme me soucier d’y être. Peu importe ou je suis . a bras portant de vos mains, je n’ai rien pour m’entourer. Vide . Il existe et je m’acharne a brisée ces rêves de mouvements en moi.

Long goes the night, long goes the day. This melody tells me perfect simple fury, only way to be found. If you let me ride.
Let me ride on these railways until I find the way. Let the fool stay in deep denial. Tell me I where to exit in your eyes.
It’s in your eyes. I can’t even look for so long afraid to be lost.
It happens before , you moved me when they think you are asleep. Your baby’s arms spread in curves, I shot through it’s feather. Drawing holes.


Later .
When do you see that, a writer who reads from beginning of his book, to correct then stops to scroll down to the end . to write more. It means I feel I am almost doing something today if I keep on writing. Instead of laying my body frozen on a couch with no one but music. And ghost in my eyes. I can’t walk no more out the door, I did it earlier for short appearance in a parc crowded. To see old friend you only see then. Then I even tried to stay for more then a second at Didi’s, but it’s the worst when I feel shaky. So now that I am alone . to observe how perfect even locked inside melancholy itself. I think if I was a painter I could make a portrait of her. Melancholy. More pretty then the muse of tragedy. Why. Because as for the muse she decorates my arm forever. It’s never a pressure. But you fulfill my life after each smile I let go, after nights in the company of my friends, I come back to you, like a loyal admirer. You may be my lover. have we ever fucked one another. Or each other. It would be overwhelming we resist. So time exist. You await to see what I will come up for a plan next what should I do. To impress you is like the feeling you get when you walk in the home you were born into. You come to me in forms of melody, in chords and violin. Villain. You dress a smile on my face every time there is mortals in the audience leaving their seats for a better day , I dare to stay, I brave you until you tear me apart. But you have long to go, and years to spend on my case if so serious you want me by your side. Show me consistency . and I will make sure to stay strong of a man enough to lead you on a dance floor. The music won’t stop until my life is over. And my life Is not over until love calls it over. I look alone to the eyes of a stranger only because you are crystal beauty. I thought my eyes to see. La transparence pour les amoureux fous qui preserve la lenteur de leur désirs comme on garde à jamais le souvenir de celle qui vout rend le souffle de toute vie.

Today was easy , I played a card over a supposely nervous rime who was there to cover me. Chemical mal-réaction l’on voudrait des paradis et l’on vous jette des chaines sans pré-avis. Sauvage.
A friend had given me some natural remedy to swallow in case of emergency. So I did. And fuck me the result is brilliant . from colors and sounds around me drooling on the canvas new of this day. There is no need of reality.
Strong resulted of a late diner I had taken by chance.
I feel better. Now that nothing is real no more.
Even the teeth and bones I am made of turn into sensations.
That’s why I have a problem loosing drugs. They find me when I less expected them to surprise . I am possess. For the next 8 hours . to follow.





Midnight past history once again. tonight without a praise I manage to escape isolation pad to fall in better company. Such Saturday who had only heavy promises to whisper me. After the brief stop at an old friend I cannot hear no more of her little life’s complaints, at least if they came from the heart, but it’s only an habit certain tend to bitch about their friends in a lack of harmony with themselves. I left with short notice to come back to the perfect hideaway. A home that is not mine. But empty so I fill in the blanks. I felt this annoying rush of cold brain coke gives you. Don’t get me wrong I like uppers but I have a true preference with strong mind teasing drugs. I use to say in a perfect scenario I would have kept a monthly taste of acid on my tongue. But we are advance society filled with bullshit poseur chemist who creates so many out-sociable drugs for every good kid in need of a personality. Short story I am the hard one to amaze or distract, a lovely friend of mine explained to me the aesthetics of a ‘writer’s disease’. I plaid guilty with pleasure.
So my great idea as a final option to break in the down was these 2 little mushrooms I had receive as a get-away gift. Being a natural appetite lover I took them both just to see. O fuck did I see. Impressive effective the visuals deepened sensations I had to leave. Pretty funny it took me by 3 times riding back and forth on st-urbain just below the railway trying to figure where the fuck to go. Find the boys you know will always understand without a question why o why you get out of your mind so freely.
I road back to the parc Lafontaine to find Chewbacca and the gangs. The worst ride on a Saturday night heading south papineau in crazy traffic even the peds are a danger, I wished for helmet and lights, or simply no one for me to see on the road. I made it In one piece. I was so lucky to be private audience to those two amazing gentleman from a grunge era singing and playing guitar with such fucking feelings, pure quebec party kid spilling lyrics in solid simple English. To let go in short explanations pure of social lack of sense, of intuitions, of respect. The most melodic howling for freedom I had seen in a long time. No more pretentious artist posing stand-up comedy.
It was not really art, more like heart. Then we laugh , did some more drugs, laugh again over wise talking then gone to hide safe in someone’s home. That call on my night changed more then I had wishes for, simple rescue comes from friendly fuck-up as you are, still lovely. Making me realize even tough I have great intentions and desire to be sober with all that realness. Really I am hard as fuck on myself for not choosing the formal clean-up dress-up. There is a reason why I let the drugs keep me awake for more then I should have stand for. Think about it, it ain’t fucking romantic to lay stone in a bar dancing over printed footstep awaiting every good kid fresh blood trying to escape the harshness of university maybe. There is a reason why I am still writing after reading , after trying some more to sleep. In the dreams there will be love, pain, nightmares and sudden lullabies but little rest when you stubborn child rise. Like a cold crazy fish swimming against tides acting like you are too blind to notice the lights have shut down. What do I care for to see . It doesn’t appear that easy when I lay still my body. I will never have control over the voices inside me, they speak in silences like falling words on the canvas of my inner body. On the membranes tissues in between fresh fall of blood you can read the story I create while you sleep.
I dream of your arms to cover me all. Be my baby.

Words. June 23rd.
Shawnda’s apartment and I am glad more likely locked in solitude. Strange of a perfect night to feel the need for one of my favorite writer of all time, margerite Duras. You may laugh as you wish I barely read her books, all I needed to fall for each of the words she let go was the movie they made on her last years in France, by the sea. Accompagnée de la mer pour une finale on pourrait croire tranquille, mais se serait faire érreur sur la personne. Je crois que même dans ces états clos passés isoler dans la chambre noire jamais ce temps ne fût vide. La tranquilité je n’en crois rien pour la tête d’un écrivain. Vous rêvez. Tonight after certain attempt to reach someone to spend time with, go out in this moving world. Failure . I have been calling people by simple boredom, it gets heavy to stay in all night under dim light smoking, writing, washroom, more substances to affect me barely. I’m even doubtful my emotions crashing down recently are truly related to my abuse. It’s just the way it is, for me. And loudly lately. I’m tortured by decision, need of money to reach another continent, and the fear I won’t last enough to miss next year’s winter. And my friends trying to convince me on how easy it could be to stay and work on another project, one needing my guts, passion, stable and persistent. I doubt I have even seen a day lately where I don’t fall into dreams of a life so far, of the rush forced obvious you get lost at the end of the day you manage to get by. But I’ve been too long slowly acting like a complaint melody in circles endless.

If in order to break in the longest patterns you need to act insanely and fly out of your own country then why not !
Les choses se passent que l’on reste ou l’on parte. Il n’existe de doute en ce qui me concerne.
I’ve mentioned Duras earlier, I usually read her interviews, and each times she comment on writing itself, on solitude, on melancholy It creates inside me still a tension, but one familiar feeling. L’écriture comme une maison, quelquefois trop petite mais toujours une maison. A secure prison where I feel free anyway since I built it’s own wall. Solid. Heureusement il y a fenêtre, et je rêve trop souvent d’appercevoir la mer. But she comes in a dream, dans l’espoir bien trop loin. Ou l’attente bien trop tôt. Peu importe, j’y reste. Dans ma tête. Et le corps n’importe plus comme il faudrait. Il y a des mots qui se crée à s’écouler des heures et des jours. Un travail comme on respire toujours à recommencer. It never stops, and I find it almost amusing overlooking at myself, leave the computer or the paper, try the phone, try another café. You come back as the minute you feel lonely, lost or even fine you keep coming back to the words, to the work you forget to care if someone would care as much as you do. It has nothing of a careful thing to do, it’s vital.
Unexpected and rough, in it’s silence you scream.
Everyday I go somewhere, a different neighborhood to see a different friend. St-Henri for the queer anglo crew. But we’re talking family for today, Meagan castle. If I was huckleberry Finn she is surely mister Sawyer. Our relationship turned sour over the winter, her witness of my classical deep in depression fall, way too much concerns on my drug abuse. It’s vicious of a circle acting along the seasons, winter turns in scary, a problem to see. To share. Then summer time so you see you are far from the lonely when it comes to party. Try to explain to all the old skool what so ever purist with nothing to hide since their drug of choice is only weed. I hate that grass, makes me paranoid the new devil for me. I do chemicals, pretty much of a blend, depends on the occasion or the friends around me. Last weekend in parc Lafontaine observing the boys spreading lines of speed on their guitar and hell was it fine. Nothing special to bother, some likes espresso, we go for the strong shot for low budget. I’ve been doing pcp and many other come and go substances for over 10 years now, and the drama and worries tend to fade. I have never said it wasn’t a problem or abuse or ridiculous money burning pit-hole. If one has grown conscious of the act of being a true addict it’s certainly me. But you don’t stop that easy, I thought I had reach again the bottom tired of thy sinful act. But I rarely lie inside me and there is still something I like about it enough to fail on quitting for longer then 2 weeks.

I need some time off the paper. To smoke. To walk in the house more empty then hours ago, when the sun was still on. Now it’s over. Longer goes the night when you play on your mind so freely like this. Be easy on yourself. Try.


Now. A blessed be momentum. I know it must mean a lot for you to trust me brother with a space you have been waiting forever to gain your home. Once again. another bricks and white walls heaven for you . I could only be happy for you and I am .
Dear Tobin. Letters unknown still I shall make sure you get this one, out lost from many journals I have whispered your name.
Tonight I do feel like the perfect Tramp, one who gets respect and a perfect night bed I still have not visited yet. I admit to myself I was a little nervous of coming back, fresh, my family have almost fed me too much I need to move around my body , mostly after weeks of correcting words, thinking in dreams only a life could appear to be alive in the space beneath my eyes. I need such little, but not many people understand the head of a writer, you do.
This wall in deep pink, worth staring forever it almost make sense to me after a 30 minutes walk, talk with this community of gayness I fucking miss out loud in the now. More then ever I miss Art, I want to lay on this couch once more and hear you play guitar like only there would be ghost of an audience, just for you. Has it cross your mind so far we could not truly stay mortals. I believe into more for the souls I adore. . I know your strength to build, create and turn into castle what they once thought we destructed for good. As I said so god even in a perfect black silk and soft dress would be a details to hung up the walls. Decorate my inner desire. In terms of forever I may be unsure of what I am doing next, where exactly will I bring myself to create once more. But I know all I can hold in my chest I will let be free, in work or schema of a structure to draw, I need you to know I will do what there is to do, instinct are something I cannot deny. Still sometimes hard to follow. There Is a way and a path we both know. Where mostly warriors are willing to crawl on their knees. I know I got just a little lazy lately. But times are there for me to spin around the arrows gone circles hungry for more . more . days. To live forwards decay .

o.k. I needed to write. It’s late already , I’m alive more then awake. Like a guardian dog with crazy paws. No worries l’ami, si seulement l’étrangé ose venir déranger tes quartiers. Il aura affaire à moi.
Sweet dreams adore.

Morning came .


July. 20th as I remember . Was the perfect idea to come back to my dreamland home. Where you have no right to be a fuck up. As you wish so. 3 days in hochelaga with the oldest party boys left standing in my life is enough already. A pattern to begin with hopes of getting him to create, could never lie we have lots in common. ‘’ Libre penseur’’ a philosophy quite easy when the subject who matters is you . just now I remember Pascha’s words on the past, finally an extract of her vaste fragile mind. She left. Hard to see me blind running crazy with my self….Broken. and now it’s so easy to believe it. To see truth slowly. No regrets. I lived until today and assure you the rebirth of every yesterdays it will take just to see all this life ahead of me. Also to see if my dream to hold you close will ever be real in a way I can feel. Hard to describe the intensity I search for, and I was beginning to forget how does it feel under skin to see you. For about an hour only enough to crawl deep you are my permanent ink, a vital blood I need it to survive. The only black that can heal me so softly, tracing the lines vessels of an existence as the lover. me.

Tobin was here with another gentleman playing lego. They left and I get all the space around me to breathe. And the air is filled with memories, vague. There is no point for me to remember the pain. The scars forever I can see. Look at my body. My love faithfully dressed in tattoos carved into skin.
After the boys left I went to get double orders of coffee at Cagibi. Only to return slowly I left them on the floor. Of course I like to feel warm, to be awake trust me is not a problem, sleep doesn’t matter in daylight. Half a bottle of the finest scotch given to me for my 27th yrs old birthday. Perfect to rest my body on the couch. Need sleep but I have gone through more exhaustive times in my life. Played guitar for a second to realize I could. But I am a writer mostly, and it always seems ridiculous for me to lay down and dream awake. I takes the same energy to type in the dreams. So I do. Religiously. It’s Sunday after all .
Tonight I just learned there is one more party to go. Honestly I should have slept the last 3 days to be pumped about this one. St-Henri, Kumbia queer this south American riot funky girl band I saw on thurday at Sala rosa. Amazing performance and my best friend Miggan is having them over for a last private show in queerdom ghetto. Of course it would be the place to go. But I can also force myself to try to sleep more then necessary 4 hours I need to get up once more on my bike. I can’t think about it now. Now is simple. Taste of GlenFarclas onmy tongue, music and cigarillos. All I need. Lie. All is easy to get by and even I look truly happy. Only because I have learned long ago to stand for strangers looking like a complete citizen, with a past over loaded with adventures and many ideas of projects to follow. That part is easy. The part I talk less and less to anybody, certain friends maybe when you need to say out loud what you really live for. Love for fuck sake. Everybody who knows even little about me see it in my eyes, in all I do, al I care to reveal when words drops out free with charged emotions. Tell me stories of the world, it’s politics and primate habits, my answers to make sense but never do I need the plans on my answers. Never. Comes naturally out of what I know exist, what I could possibly care for. But I don’t. don’t get me wrong I am not even miles away from heartless. Au contraire. Myself is a map quest endless of emotions. And I feel for an illusion so real my eyes to be captured by the look in your eyes. when you stare into me. You still smile to the most ridiculous thing I say about everyday. About the way I react to this jungle I fear not, aware of the might be danger, I realize it as we walked outside the café no one. Will ever be able to cross path in disturbs of the space we create between us. Ces reards tu me lance les rappels de ma vie. Celle que j’ai choisie. Ce destin à qui j’ai mainte fois promis sur mon Coeur de poursuivre acharnée le courant de mes désirs. Et j’y crois, et mon corps un jour tombera à la derive. je possède une àme qui jamais ne meure. Maybe then without such alive body I will manage to rest. Awake. The love I carry forever will be. And your life and memory is the one that feed me. Fill me in the exact same way an ocean could easily swallow me.

Always loved the souvenirs. As I open my guitar case appear to me the journal I wrote the year I met you. read. Here is a copy of your words. Few ones I get to follow me away from you.

‘’ Margo, let’s hang on together.
You are delishous and magical.
You kill me.
I want to grow up with you, too.
There are no words in this moment.
Just praise… find rest.
Hearts. P. ‘’

You also kill me in this luscious distance, still you are the reason I feel this heart of mine immortal.
It was lovely to see we both have changed, the words we use to describe each other’s reality in feelings has grown a better clear. Only seems the rhythms are fully crescendo. Hunting melody I adore the way it possess me. Fill me. When I could care to focus on zillions other things I do not. You are the one that I want.
And if I can’t be with you . Nothing will ever stop me from dreaming of you, from moving in tango with you, are the shadow there in beneath my eyes. What I feel wasn’t meant for any explanations, any reasons, and there is no fucking solutions. I lost some fake days of happy time struggling to create a lie for you that I didn’t care no more. No I redeem to the way I feel.
Always seems to people like a painful feel when I drop inside the focus of my depts… I am not masochist I get chained freely so I don’t run again towards wherever you are. I want to taste your lips. Touch you until dawn. Wishes for your fingers tracing my body releasing lust I hide away in every day now.
I am not sad. I’m in love. Ce mots Éphémère que vous crée précieusement pour protéger tous ces fous perdus aisément au gré d’un amour de passant. Le regard qui vous est caché à cet instant, le mien si trenchant une lame découpe vos espoirs drapée de lacheté. My feelings are real. Naked. Sometimes this envy to reach a death comes through me, but that would easy. Really. I am an animal trapped away form you. And I get driven by my instincts, my thirst for you. So I live. Slowly then the killer in me awakes so I chase down the tempo of my own life.
Ride fiercely insanely you are the last one of your endangered specie. I would be a fucking coward to stop the run and leave you chances to ride on my graves for a while. Persist.
Passion needs patience. And I love it even more when you dare to remind me. When you stand just right there in front of me.
The respect I have for you helps me lots to stay behave in a cage created just to keep me from holding you. We exchange words and smiles. But. My eyes never could resist to translate for you my heart screams in silently.

As I read the Rumi book few poems already I’ve tasted, tears rise. I wish to write them one by one, all of them to cover this body of mine. Pray for only you to discover them first. Reading lines by lines close enough to the skin so I can feel your breathe. Creating our lips silent curse of a love to stay forever silver. I’m alive, still. Dreaming of you creates air for all the heavy days becoming so easy to find me when I see you. it’s better stronger. Never dies while everything changes. Silences feed my lungs and I still can feel my time’s arrows in steal knocking out alive more true this heart of mine.

August first. Already over . Many hours. Many perfect friends.
Food. Again I was no angel, but this time no one went on the easy to hide on side of alcohol. Really all corrupt and happy my little friend. Al got here in the morning, and a lucky day the ones I truly adore all reunited in our infamous backyards. Alcohol so early and all day until we hit te wild turkey. There was a party, and I can’t except myself to be the nightlife battery so alive and talking. I left . I leave when I do. Need to. Someone to follow you in the end protects you from what your mind can be in stone and delightful lonelyness. Where he always go even blindfolded. Where love is. In memories. In now. But I wonder where to look. They say the attraction of what you are kept chained away from. The dreams you never feels on your skin. The ocean you have stopped crying for it’s endless view, I believe it rest in me. Maybe that’s why I lay words so easily when I feel it in me, the ocean black. So soft and deep you forget to breathe but you never would call it death. If your life today or more like yesterdays would start by an end and follow the rhythms of our waters moving in together. What would it be like.
All I ever dreamt of my eyes wide open. Sharp look in through the invisible mirror no one see but it reflects forever you and me. And there is no places or time we don’t exist. No such exit. So clear where no one knows, or dare to sees. Only One way to go. Where the heart beat. Where our fears become mutual and instincts of love, survival, desire in. Dual.
Just now I am as always hopeless romantic somehow less negative then anyone would believe their ‘lecture’ of my guts in words. It’s a rainfall you never know when the lights shut down, there is wind, more, rain. Already heavy. Maybe a single wonder, does it matter, will it ever matter all I say to a perfect stranger when I am the lover. Remember. In my dreams you receive each of these letters. You read slowly alone. You tell me back in whispers, black ink reveals the dreams and desire pure.
No lie. You believe that it never really matter to let go, really, you spit it all so nicely for my eyes to see. I am not craving your body nothing close to how my mouth waters thinking of your words, your utter voice and a picture of your eyes tattooed in the back of my mind. Sublime. You may think I want you so.
But I feed myself with such luxury of poetry like no one knows when travel there own body. I don’t jerk off. I feel the touch better on my skin, if you would expose your heart in fragments.
I would be careful.
Read in gently. Slow. I never forget it’s in details I tend to love madly.
As I remember or even in the beginning of this book there is moment I write for you in such a hurry. Nervous. Scared and lost in my own skin. Care less in the daylight. & Care to dream into bright black. Twilight. It’s true I confess they were never easy to take on kind of feelings exploded puzzled unsteady of all I could think of at this present moment. Now I would like to call it ‘l’instant prégnant’ . I am older and it’s not quite a lie they say wisdom grow if you know how to feed it well. Never starve. Trust. Turn the fragile crooked walls into palisade , curved lines that never ends their perfection almost. Exist. I never saw it, felt my heart calm in motion away. Inoffensive sailboat for devoted sailor . Anywhere there will always be water to find me. In the realms of my most clear fantasy . When I see you standing soft and talking we lay eyes for each other. And I awake, in heavy lust and blood waves riding me. I still hold, stay steady. If only your hand was to press my chest, where lies could never be. No need to dissect me for a touch under layers of who ever I meant to be. I only ever pray for you .
Le Coeur. Ces jours-ci certains ont l’envie de froler, l’entendre se hurler dans mes mains. Somehow I can cope with such gentleman answer. But answers in sentimental logic are pretty light compare to the feeling itself. That’s how I may love only never there is letters to follow. I was never meant or any good in will for giving form to a graphic heart, le dictionnaire de mes envies n’existe pas. No grammars rules, no explanations for the casual love. Act for it in order to erase the days you could leave them empty. But empty is a dicease. And love may be une maladie fatale. Elle ne vous empêche en rien d’exister. Au contraire, à lui seul cet amour triste parfois, respire en moi des mélodies composée. Gammes vitale. Sérénades hantée résonne à jamais pour l’enfant ésseulé.
Crazy. Becomes easy to resist the drop lost in passion. Surely it is a loaded guns. Triggers. Death some could see it an exit door fast and easy. Lies for little criminals . I am a serial type of lover. In details I loose myself, comfort loud delight. But then again you are not the victim. I kill the senseless in days obscured by mortal student spare no story I am broke but happy. Who are you if not the victim. You are the ending of every moving pain I ever inflicted to myself. Healing my hands swollen blood in the name of every stranger. Did not matter. Murders in precise for times you hardly can believe in any such beauty. Melancholy is no feeling to be denied. Mostly an elixir to soften every memories where I stand alone. You have left. Enough time for me to re-build life in dreams can be. I am a boy then a woman, remains on my feelings. Dream reign loud I would like to propel them into your nights. Breathe low. Hold me until morning fade away. Captive. I feel safe even when I find … fear.
Fear to let go.
Rule number one. If anyone thought me obsessive they have read me wrong. look into my eyes where there are no lies.
Faithful to no one but the love I live in the name of.
Say it encore. Never matters. The object of my affection and all it draws, Hide in everywhere to see. Only you may not feel the way I do. It’s o.k.
The day is so early now still I havn’t slept. Awaken by words threatening to haunt your dreams if you dare fall asleep. So I stayed, almost quiet except I go to pee like a maniac since I have done a little upper. We all did. But I get bigger portions so I rest my body, let go my mind. Too much to handle just to even think I could lay there by her side, amazing lady caring for me who has arrive this morning from new york. She deserve my hands to hold her, my tongue to waters for her body, and all eyes I can do. It’s a hard time trying to keep love alive. Was able to see it in her eyes growing tender for me. simple and steady practically dreamy of a story. But I can hide the fairy dress in serpents slow grip crawling on me. Deeply, they seduce me. Surrounded me. Am I week to let my mind enraptured by a muse’s subtle souvenirs. Love they say it magic. True. I injected the spell in my blood ô ages ago and I heard there would not be any Mercy soon there to come and get me. I want it that way. Exquisite torture sometimes but it’s all that makes sense now in this life of mine. All that ever made sense since I first saw you.

So many cigarettes burned slowly, all over night. Maybe it annoys the sleeping angels around me. C’est la vie. They know what it’s like by now to spare time with my chronic word-a-holic habits. Like a baby need steady his milk, I need to dream of you so much. Mental exercise of style. Learning the limits, breaking them one by one. But keep the rhythm. Else you might loose more of yourself then just a feeling. More. I do hope for something real, but I have been so quiet, aware of anybody around me, or such ever could be. There I feel stable towards old friends for whom my love if so immense even romance gets a hard time to compete. Friends who end up looking like old couple who finish one another’s sentences. Many people won’t fight if they have the chance to create affairs that last forever. Friends under black or white will keep up under pressure. Stay.
You treat them like gold once you realize they’ll ever be the only fortune to surround you. You never own truly any fortunes, all fucking worth shit compare to a feeling. Sensation. Love will never turn into gold. No .
Love will rain silver, crystal pure water in and over you. Promises in black colored frames decorating pretty castle.
We danced together it feels endlessly. Only you may find it hard to keep the steps even in between the melodies, silence fall. A fine ear can move in between all the broken pieces, ballroom fallen tragedy.
Ending for more promises, black colored frames decorating perfectly your inner body’s funeral. Set free your mind who dreamt of love as a destiny. You won’t recover. A picture like that becomes pregnant in the eyes. it’s a ending I create for you, imagine. No further, I am better agile that you could remember.
And more. Alive. for now I like to stay, and tell you story. You could say I play the game that pushes you to re-create 1000 fairy tale to dress up the heart. You may think of lies and lullabies, I only dress him up in feelings never denial.
There Is this song I adore, French called; ‘le vent l’emportera’ and I cannot help but crave for departure. For further then that actually, I want to be far already, possibly close by the sea. Feeling home and strong when I drop inside and the clever snakes comes back to poisoned me. Even sweeter their venom like your eyes they attack me sharply. Fill my inside let grow lust and you are asking of me to stay calm. Quiet. Never whisper love or else she might run. Away. Time teach you hardly when you act on your instinct. They are brilliant but never understood a certain fear. One who begged you to brave and stay. To see something would have happen. Passion needs patience, we both never felt it deep enough on time to build in metal rope to hold each other from shaking. Thin ropes under our love how crazy we thought maybe it was meant to be easy. Spell fast, left it so early fuckers autumn late didn’t you know new born ain’t no strong dog on the fall of winter. Cold shot baby we froze it already. Protecting your soul instantly you were gone hiding, warm illusions ever disappear in the snow. I think I have always been a little stronger in such weather , I stayed longer. Felt like even our love lost freezing I took it gently in my arms. Swallowed it tasted better then the body of christ back in my chest. 3 years almost later I still feed the motions day light through the thin skin over my heart, across my throat. Cries and whispers your name and the touch of your hands.
I guess most people I know do not see the purpose, reasons whatever pushes me to keep myself and the only love I can remember so strong, still alive and dominant like never before.
I never thought it so, but it came in a very natural way for me to feel my skin, the tattoo covering pain, my protection yet I feel it’s of your hands I am dreaming in silences. Waiting like it’s all that truly make sense. Your hands to create scars & art pleasuring dreams. Fuck.
FUCK. I swear. Fuck. May I spell it one more time.
Fuck. When the songs I play insomnia sings for me. For all the many things I would like to say to you.
I don’t believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now. No one I doubt would drop so easily their heart, play true, until the bet consist of the precious life you possess. The player alone still will remain captive. Reality kept a Sweet beautiful prison I can only escape by writing.
Live forwards the day.

For later. Today for now is no different then the day before.
I havn’t slept and the words I created unconscious I fell in love for. It’s a sad story for others sometimes when you get trapped into the things you love. Words anytime better then sex when I write for you. sex is nothing I can easily order, I need to want it truly, be cleaner then I feel now. The need to miss your kiss when you are asleep, to dream awake of what sex could be. I cannot lie I don’t remember playing my hands insanely on your body like the way I do. No words, I am always the one to stop kissing you. But .
I do like you and it’s true, but I feel so independent when I’m with you. not that any possession is right. Wishes to belong with someone for longer then the little days we spend together. I would be out of my mind, honesty so raw as you can see if I was a book open, less then any sweet truth to reveal. Not even boredom. Indifference. Feels cold. Always.
All you need is a day to drag over, they both Althea and Al did drugs, alcohol and party last night. I am awake out of brain stimulation and high drugs tolerance. Try to take it slowly, at least Althea makes it easier for me today to play anti-sexual pilgrim. And god fuck knows how devoted I can be when it comes to keep it for my self this energy, feed my wisdom. Clear vision when my eyes shut down. Take a look inside, all there is is mine. And I am not at all a starving wolf when someone’s body is an option to me. I crave more deep then a sweet simple relationship. More can be easy, it never had to be volcan burning crushes to get my attention for more then an hour.
If you ever read this I hope you understand the way I feel has to do so much with my writing. I made a home into this way I tend to love to drown in their memory. To loose grip turns out harder since this past contains also my dreams for every hours rings in bells for the life I wish to pursue. I never was the kind to let go of my dreams. Said it all over. I am at least some kind of purist to believe into all the crazy scenarios I like to build. Cat power plays, same music, soon there will be a change. We all gotta change. Some things you hardly ever change, even with the biggest will. I wasn’t born hating all the demons I grew up with, one can pleasure then hurt himself and others by simple act. Never will you prevent or predict the sensations you inflict in every direction. The difference is that you still choose who shall you try best to save. Yourself. Or the ones you love.
Selfish has an horrible definition on my cpu dictionary. Self-centered, self-seeking. To self-seek has nothing truly selfish. Form my point of view observing what I SELF_SEEK, I don’t know many who would follow me. I invite you in my brains, follow me close. From the crawling to extreme riding. Be there with me. now let’s see who would come and follow me.
We shall see some unbelievable things. diamonds and steel.
Trust me, close your eyes. I keep a dearly eye on you. There still will be scratches on the edge of your body. Pain holds all that pleasure could be, just different. I feel alive, my body barely moves this morning, hands to smoke and type in what ever could possibly cross my mind. There is no one to impress. Mumble in the ear of a stranger. Like it or not I swear I would never serve you lie. Like I would for a lover. Really. Does it make you feel any special now that I tell you. Just for your eyes.
I could possibly meet you if you wanted to. I use to dream of the perfect stranger always. Wanders in café all day spying all around. Now I look more reserve, quiet. Not any less intense, I like to wait. Patience I try to follow when it comes to l’amore.
A past truly not helping, the muses are more then an ideal, they teach you what inside you desire. Refine darkness may turn into the most beautiful fragile mind. Sorrow eyes reacts severe. What makes them hard impress in this way they reflect in the back of my eyes, their mysteries. All that I don’t know . Wonder.
My attention like a loving soldier stand still, ready to move along the lines they trace without known’s of you. Many words to tell you so but it’s a process who comes in so naturally. Better then nature or science it’s a feeling you may draw it’s proper whispering. Never you can plan to create it’s dramatic. People believe I build on purpose all these lacrimosa for the girl I adore, I forget to even think when I write for her.

Ne vous en faite pas cette journée est sur le point de terminer. Everything’s got an end. Quite not enough tired to sweetly fall like . ????

August 25th. Greyhound kills. It does for real.
Almost done my first daylight, 24 more hours to go before I hit Winnipeg. You deserve this break, wish you could get out of reality just slightly. They found your wallet back at the red house now that you are gone. Gone too fast, you said good bye to nancy and Rachel only. You left already missing that night you fell so gently in my arms. who ? the girl with eagle wings tattooed across your chest, so beautiful. Gentle. I would have never guest. But you are more then that, you also tend to be awake and chasing night like a predator, I am not the kind of animal who jump so easily into a woman’s arms in the middle of a crowded bar where even the music annoyed me. He did, the man I don’t know, the one I saw you pushed against the wall kissing under is rapace paws, pushing the way animal grind when they fall in heat. I was not feeling the rage, believe me. I miss more tenderness in my life, the way I crave sugar in my coffee, like music so melodic I listen to survive the days.
we stopped in Calgary, one more hour to kill. I am sick of it already, I wanna be in l’Outaouais already but I need to stop see Sahulka, or else we’ll miss each other for maybe more then a year. Would be sad. I want more then a week doing fuckal in my hometown, making sure my aunt eats more. Feels better hopefully.
I realize there is so much people that deserve my words, words I promise. Letters handwritten. Lots.

September somewhere along the way. Back in Montreal, 3 days equals one night of sleep usually as I return. Only this time I get the feeling party ain’t gonna be the one to grip on me. Day number one I was riding inn back and forth Hochelaga Mile end reaching up with the party. Small party. One on one, the ones I prefer. A whole night up with Shawnda, ironic in Tobin’s castle, the words satisfying but I wonder if the lack of sleep was worth it. Doubt it.
I got a haircut at JJ’s and she took me back to the new house they all live in. She’s back into her delightful world of celibacy, I ha a certain clue. The words honest we exchange felt good, like the good old days. Her mention on that day we fucked each other made me realize how my eyes react different to sex and romance. Carefully, slowly since I learn there are nothing too loose. It does feel good to get control over yourself. She is one of those strange attraction or desire to give more affection then random sex. Follow the path instinctive, keep yourself for yourself when all you have is a little left. Patience. You still can dream of the moment to come around and get you. If anything true.
Days are long as I tend to awake early. I edit images, then words, then ride until you come and speak in touch again. Soon there will be no end nor beginning. Only matters left are the feelings. I couldn’t ask for any better. Silence . In a perfect grand loft I stay still, in cadence you move from the ice cubes to your glass. Bottle of scotch will bring you back on the couch. So you write. Everything goes. Why bother thinking before thinking. Makes no sense. Let go. All the no one knows. For there will always be some left for more.

September still. Today I’ll be out the space, so you can have sex in all over the walls. God you make me smile. We will be eternal child but I think Margeritte Duras tought me one more lesson I truly needed. Again. Perseverance. Achernée jusqu’à la mort. Sans le corps on ne produit rien, plus de mots plus de musique composée, plus de mouvements. Elle dit; ‘ les gens qui ne danse pas, c’est toujours inquiètant’ . If you could call it lucky she was not alone to write just before she let go of this life. She had one more lover.
I am so young, so are you. we should be building the day in order to be stronger. There is no need to do better, only we can never stop. Trying .
Last night so early I had everything there ready for me to fall into dreams. Sleep endlessly. This is when insomnia kicks in. Hard enough it’s impossible to turn your brain off. But mostly if you let it be, it always pays off.
Ending praise for Sérénade.
Cold this winter. You left me. Silences sounds of
Melancholy. A dream note in key tone infinite, I would fall with holding this love for you, this sea. Cet ocean noir. Profond. Arise.
Then I looked into your eyes where there could never be a lie.
I remember. Gently. I dreamt I would be your eternal child.

There better be words to cut and paste after the last sentence I