now

time

i just wanna spend all day in there.

i guess i should just write more. never had to make sense.

Sunday. my dearest grandmother hates it when i work on Sunday, i have a hard time following this request of her. i don't remember last time i had a calendar or proper agenda. seconds ago the rain was pouring, ran for my bike. my roommate tends to notice every objects i leave in the small corridor we have. i am gonna end up smoking a pack of cigarettes before mid-day. from coffee to Rum, back into ginger/ginseng tea. liquids goes along with cigarettes. always. i have serial tendencies. patterns i follow carefully, meticulously. obsessive maybe. one too many aspects of my multiples personality. the doctors were not totally wrong. it is not a disorder but a gifted creative wheels of archetypes. lord knows i am very fast in motion feelings spinning circles 'n that wheel. i am waiting for another stranger driving all the way from Ottawa in order to meet me. i bailed on every rendez-vous we had back in my hometown. of course i wish i was in a better mood for her arrival, i ain't no puppet boy holding a happy switch button you can press down as ever you wish. if my mind goes down, there is got to be something pretty distracting to rise it all up. the night Jackson came over for diner showed me once again how easier it is to feed myself royally in this city when you get a guest over. i made myself one egg for one toast for one cheese sliced carefully. still manage to give half to my dog. the least i can do. she has wishes for entire days wandering in park but i get bored as easy she gets bored inside the house. we both are living cette chienne de vie. but it ain't that bad trust me. i have a home, for how long we shall see.
i have been waiting too long already for this guest. ô do i wish she will entertain me. i hate formal conversations about the places we work, the things we have done. the school or work we do. i care about feelings usually the rest can fuck off. truly.
always easier to sip on this fine fine dark Rum rather then the tea i make maybe just to feel like i am healthy. there is too many people i talk shortly on the internet. sick of it. then they wonder why i tend to sit in café and talk to the old lady next to me. they tell me story when you can't even look me in the eyes.

firts sunday in this city

i have been carrying this photo since ages. september is the fall of my return. new beginning. i left the suburbs, my hometown less then a week ago. A return in slow motion. slow motion also the option i wish to find soon on my camera. believe me it felt strange to get a t.v. with 4 station to watch. less C.S.I. less crimes to distract myself. more bikes, even more craving for strangers to talk too. i dragged myself over to the mile end a couple of time for coffee, lasted less then half an hour. i even walk in and left some places without ordering. it hasn't changed at all. the day i saw mister Jordan, an exquisite performer waling on the side corner, he mentioned how calm i appeared to him. truth. everything feels more quiet. i got an old love now a new friend i see rarely to tell me about a new singer. and god knows i need new melody for company. this morning late i rode by a skate park, kids in a row asking me for cigarettes. took pictures again. streets crowded with cops they tell me a grand city's marathon, there was no one running. more kids trashing cups of water on the ground. i was quick enough to save a drop for my beloved dog. i should have been writing all summer on this blog. but i am telling you it takes a second to get used to this comfort zone, never the need to wonder what will you eat for diner. will you ever run out of cigarettes or coffee. i told you September is overture to another chapter. i already rather not see the cruel empty verdict of my bank account. will be looking soon for a job. i got more to create then to go on an endless walking journey dropping c.v. i always hated the formal c.v. talk. i like to talk myself randomly into a new project with someone. i became a loner maybe 'cuz i am surrounded by loner. the truth is most of them probably wish the same thing as i do. to be with someone. to be loved and love in return. if there was no poetry and beautiful images for me to observe i would not resist the taste of death. i just got shit to do before that happen. and i am still convince neither smoking or abused of sugar will drown me to my graves.

more.

pour toi.

now

en septembre...

5;38am you have not seen a word from me on this page since ages. why o why . was a school boy for a while, then dropped in hell of a true punk house. followed by a summer lending in perfect family territory. result. a brand new Marinoni i tend to call my cadillak and finally a perfect photo camera with awaited hd video option. there is so much option on the beast i am just beginning to learn how to tame it. slowly but surely. shoul dbe looking for work, slowly. ( smile ) my last night was delightful diner with an old friend, a true friend and these ones are precious. sausages and sweet dark Rhum. hilarious the fact i can drink half a bottle and feel fine. but half a pint of cider or beer and i feel like shit drunk, with a headache. lord ö marry. no need for your mercy i got chocolate milk that will do me fine. just fine. i am still re-obsessed by old school guns'n'roses. sleeping on the couch with my dearest Lucy. well sleeping is a grand word.i tend to awake before your mother opens an eye-lid corner. really. i am an early crow-bird.