through the last night

2;21 am ... of course i am still awake. and oh awaiting for you to knock, knockin on my door.
my mind is alive somehow, my body will try it's best to survive for the next 10 crucial hours. 10 hours to pack some differences for 4 loads of my life , 3 to stay here in different space, and a one last one to escape with ourself in your mama's car.. in style. my tresor from the past hidding here and the real butin from my new supercherie so close to the metal i carry. hopefully we'll manage to bring the usual with us. i could have brought less. but i truly don't know what'll happen to me . will i stay in the anglo citar or will i come back to my montreastar after our cowboy ride in all of kanada. probably in french territory i will be back. only if my tricks and evilry goes well . as much as i am ready in life to cope for my sins, as much as i like to be free in the lands i adore. i give myself t'll i hit another year of my birth, if by then i am not a jailkid then i will have proof in the stars that my prays of avant-garde ceremonial sinematic stand-up dramaturgy ... !!! have been holy heard ! no seriously i have just been going through my mid-twenties crisis since last summer, it was time for me to thank thy fall back in an eternal chilish cavalerie. the only things that difference me from the kids out there is that i am succeptible enough to be locked in crazy yards. with fences high electrified me.
but if that ever happen then i'll spit in enough karma to stay i , peace and write endlessly on the muses that have endure me.
i now , sometimes can't stop myself thinking about johnny's ink n' body saying to thy.

es una vita. je souffle mes reves en boucaner en attente , later, je les deposserai sur les vagues de silver o for you . mi amore . la mare.
my name is the one you ear them say . i live forwards the day.

patience

o mi angel. have mercy on my hours of sleep .
what was i thinking, after a long long day out and about , i went back to my home, i tried to ran against my lung , to be back where it's warm, to be back in time not to miss your voice one last time before i feel everything , new again, but not the same, it's crazy to grow up even in the distance ,i remember this lady who told me we communicate with the missing ones the way we talk on the phone, but the words are always blury , but you speak clear to me , but we are hungry. for more then just words.
hard to believe when you think of myobsession with words, because i use to be able of everyhing in the writing i did, but to act on my desire , was another story not well written ago. but i could not truly explain that story . one day i will.. and i'll live , for now , the way some will see throug glass. i broke mine.
i am alone , but i can't feel alone right now,i should be doing all the responsible things i have to do before i leave , piratery of my little superchery in this city .
i tought for real i was going where no one knows about the old me. not that i want to become somebody else, but i want to change , enough to feel it in my body. but o o funny apparently i am already known. and again by people assuming something they don't even understand. i'll have to leave with my o so precious words; the innocent , they can all kiss my ass. sideways 'what the fuck shall i do , care really , nope, i am busy with caring when will i next be able to sit on the grass without freezing . when will it feel goood to be onmy future balcony smoking an dwhyskey , withourt 8 layers thick . maybe sooner cuz it almost feel like i'm going souther. in a city not as good as montreal. but still i'll manage fast enough to find her credit. she actualy have credits enough for me to run there like a thief , well i am a thief in here . in this city i find love , i want to give some too. there is better milkshakes then here, and more water to look at, look with...
so finito living with absent roomate at her first flat, tryingto understand that papier cul is not something that only comes with santa claus . and my new soon to meet roomate. an older woman then me, that spell herself in an 'ezzzz goin''' .. and i'm sure ez-goin is mor efor me then hysterical student or party kids. ha ah ha , party kids, why don't i call myself one, cuz these days are party kids pretty often the ones to get wired on chemicals and pill popping , and if ever i try to follow them in there journey to psychedelik something ! well i'm doomed because i'll consume 5 times more then they do and still look like i have ha the sweetest coffee in themorning , and the more and more i go , on and on , i know for sure i like quite better the way i feel when i've slept sober and get to sip my espresso without any muscle feeling like the dreams have been violent enough to remember .

so o.k . i will not start on my anatomy analysis of the drugs i know. i care not , one day i just want to completely stop. and get stone on coffee . and ice cream.

2;51, i am looking a little at the window in case i would see you . if the time treats my dreams so right you should walk the door in less then 10 minutes, but it could be longer , that's o.k . it is o.k. to wait some more, if i remember how it felt for a week to craze your eyes , your hands, your self. while talking on the freaking phone, your voice sometimes changing in this way , when i only wanna hold you . but i felt li ethrwing the pillows by my window, and listening loud to Palace brothers. but i kept the pillows, there good pillows. writing here now is the only way to spare time. i fel a tiny little disapointed in me , i wanted to be so awake , and ready to run stable with you , but when the night should have ended last night i got awake and cleanes the way my father use to do when he was worried thinking too much . so it's clean but i slept only , barely 3 hours, wich makes me a little lot lazy. but it's o.k. just tell me it's o.k. i feel o.k. .
i am waiting for you to make more coffee, you might even bring some cream, i have honey . it's driving me crazy goo di have such thin walls all i hear the door every 5 seconds, wrong door, the only good doors are the ones you open.
i cannot believe i can stil sing noir desir after all the smokes i had, wine , scotch and name it. my hands refuse to stop typing until i see you . . i want nothing else.
not now. later maybe we;ll need food, and maybe sleep.
i feel so calm, wel the way i somehow am nervous but don't even realize it .
so calm but now i see , soon i'll feel how soon i am leaving , all the work i have to do, all the people i love, i want to see them , to keep the alive in my mind, some of my fried si know already it has notbeen the last time i'll see the in a while , but i miss them already , when i walk on vanhorne on my way to Tom, alteha y company i feel so much home, in the streets i don't really go out to coffee shop, whne i do i step out to fast in the cold that it becomes pointless. o.k. so you should be there but the subway is slow, maybe your driver felt like timmy every 30 minutes.

i want stop the writing , i could say anything , everything , change subject and talk about it all, my life or the life i saw down the street when i saw this older men loking so alone waiting for the bus to take him home ,but even home ! home is in the souvenirs he kept in the far stop , there in teh back of his heart . one is nowhere else but in you . home is in the peole you see , the people that loves you , when their eyes are reflective mirrors of who yo are .

to be continued

softly crushen songs for you .

my silver love will turn steel. still. you know steal.. le metal de mon coeur n'est certe pas douleur , aucune douleur. no pain . some could say O what for a change . but no one shall dare to awaken the snakes when slowly you helped me and i hope i helped you too. remember this way we found , to put the snakes asleeps. so nothing will rattle me down to the ground , the cutting ground where i sometimes knew exactly where to put my knee. who doesn't. but i did .. for es una vita . but so now . somehow recently we fell together in a new year o seven lifes of a cat but i wanna keep more then that for all the seconds, years or infinite whispers you'll let me be by your side. and i have gone to spy tonight on your words . in a lively part of the web.. and i am a spider , a sweet sweet spider the way my hands travels your skin. the way i wish i could play you serenade in a five string slides down .. rythm . my hands a spiderweb . but i keep my eyes open for you. five . days in awaits . then i'll ring the bells to the real pictures just to let them know we are about to fuck off.. leave .. in the space we created.. and from a ship we cuddle and look at you mice .. and feed you cheeze .. no one is gonna get trap .. there will be life .. no death . no doubt ..


( i am ) Losing the star without a sky
Losing the reasons why ( there is no reasons why .. so be it )
Youre losing the calling that youve been faking,
but i will show you my eyes where there are no lies
And Im not kidding, we are playing .
playing the way childrens do . and it's kinda true.

Its damned if you dont and its damned if you do
Be true cause theyll lock you up in a sad sad zoo, aouuuuuuuu !!
like we fear to let go and go crow,crave, show me claws
i'll show you tender, i cry like a dog sometimes
and we still always move like feline .
alone i am an alley cat . and you are a lion.
Oh hidy hidy hidy what cha tryin to prove
By hidy hidy hiding youre worth an ocean rain.(no chains )

Sew your fortunes on a string
And hold them up to light
Blue smoke will take
A very violent flight
And you will be changed
( i want to change. what i can. not what i've been, nor who i am , but what i'll be )
Sand everything, i will say everything
sand in flesh and grains all through my vein, i will show myself true
And you know we sometimes sound like a very very happy zoo.

I once was lost but now Im found aware
and asleep, and awake I see you ( want to )
How selfish of us to believe in the meaning of all the sweet and luscious dreaming .

(selfish no more..no sin.and even with
i still believe we'll be stolen away by the angels of light )


silver toungue youre not hiding
Metal heart you are worth everything
and you have turned my toungue liquid so fast , melting down even when i lay awake in the distance . i still feel the heat, the colors, the feeling is blue.
Metal heart i never want you to be hiding
Metal heart how did you become my most precious ring. they tought that i was not worth a thing . but now i can look forwards the day .. and the rings in circling deep beneath my eyes, are in love and they sharpened every day .

note to the random reader .. imagine the circle in 8 infinite .. you always tough circles could never cut through the days , or rock if that matters , well .. idiot .. i have just showed you how circles are blades created by metal heart ..
our love is sharp...

tonight ... i havnt written here in a long long time . o my hands please forgive me .. for spending your time on adds and post and rooms and AHHHHHHHH ! don't care right now.. i have just finally done what i tought i had to do 8 months ago .. but no .. NOW .. is the time . it'll be over soon .. not for ever . never forever i'm thinking montreal i will miss you . and maybe some will miss me. but you were home in a way i can't deny . . and who knows maybe my ocean blue will bring back waves towards you sooner then you tought , waves. in the streets where i know by the railway where to find my ship-o-full of pirates, and crazy kids we are grown-ups animals... le cirque de ma vie.. est ici... but for now .. i will play spy . the smokey clown will play it almost serious , no kidding , walk walk in another city .. and like a mime.movements on the side of the street, i will spy with a lovely smile. ( machiavelique but no one can ever tell ) to the man down there . and i will try not to forget ......alll .. you and you ..
and you .. who once have told me ; ''je n'ai pas a gagner ma vie, je l'ai''
''je n'ai pas a gagner ma vie, je l'ai''
''je n'ai pas a gagner ma vie, je l'ai''

ah ah ah ah ah ah ah i DO love it when i laugh inside in perfect silences while the nights go away ... closer to the day you will be here to laugh aussi.
3;o7 oh oh oh i have not forgotten how to write ..all... takes times.. beautiful times but al i wanna do is spin forwards the arrows on the clock... faster .. but no .. PASSION NEED PATIENCE ...
oh

now.

all i do is miss you .
and smoke cigarettes..

it can be rainy but i see you beauty in the spaces between clouds we shall rest our space together . warmer.

warm when what we all were to expect .. for a begining of january . not
plus de nuages gris, still a`softly dizzy but as always so clearly. nuage enboucannes
. je fume et oui je m'en bas les couilles. autant plus que jamais, mes poumons effrenes sauront en temps et lieu me chuchoter a l'oreille what shall i do . in times will come, i will be the one and only one to acknowledge my route en vue de guerir et transformer mon corps... ..en temps et lieu . what i like and in any situation , the storms can fall on us , i want to take care of you , and me , and my friends, and my family , and my lovers. but there is a difference in between taking care of a loved one and thinking from out of the blue you can walk into my reality, then learned well how to whispers in praise and rhythms to an audiance, to your private eyes maybe you think you see, but do you remember my scars in beautiful shades of black and blue , tattoo. all over my skin, i wonder my sins they are mine , i cherish them sometimes, also i want on some other day to cut the head of certain persona in me ,the addictive thief of my own creativity you will be burried in times, i'll drop roses of black red you deserve no satin, you were always the taste of venin on my silver toungue, no rust . i am sharp and clever .. and cut through the nights.. i live forwards the days. and mi amore. no see . i put my words on screen, no falses exposes, i would throw my dreams on 16;9 the essence of sinema,
i want to stay , but i have my heart screaming margooooooooooooooo . you were suppose to be shooting some scenes, images, movie , el spectacolo.. you . were the one to tell me there is only a true circus rolling coaster for me in my dear o so beloved city .. montreal j ete reviendrai on time ... lease forgive me .. willyou not miss me .. i forgot to plunge my stuck up .. counter silvery .. sink.. cloggg .. bloque. la tuyauteries m'appelle, une nouvelle carriere . maybe i should come back to become a plumber .. .. miss dragomir told me they make a lot of money .. and i want cash in!!!
to keep on enlightned my home.. someone told me about the book call the ethical slut
but for tonight i am an ethical thief. robin wood.. warm in the bed of the king of delaware streets......

finally

regardez.. dehors.. il neige...
je me nomme vlad st-amour. je suis toujours en vie.. il y a une de ces chansons que je n'ose chanter qu'avec moi... noel c'est l'amour , c;est la plus belle saison..
im all set cuz i am a loup-garou who still look .like a puppy ..
a real sweet sweet puppy ... so know one will know .
how thirstly i get hungry for whyskey . and more. tomorrow. is my mother's birthday .
one name . lucie. in the morning . i will pick you up my beloved lucy .
we'll go for une marche tres lente , langoureuse mes traces dans la neige.

rainy day tasted scotch but honey .

i dream of apple pie exactly like the one kerouac described in his books, always ice cream. don't forget the ice cream... i'm gonna loose my job soon but i feel like i shouldn't care . the pockets might care when they'll be empty of money but maybe you'll put your hands in there and i won't care no more if i ever had money . we'll make so much ginger cookie in little body shape to feed our belly. i am home. alone but it's o.k. it's getting way more then o.k when i do laundry,when i make coffee, when i drink scotch-whyskey.. in the middle of the day spare the hours before i have to ride in the wet-street.. parc down t'll i walk into mexican sharks, they won't eat me.. they'll feed me . what a lovely surreality .. i'd rather see clear. my glasses are clean, i see more sparkles in every colors the way perfect sinema feels like... i can't touch my body. because it's bleeding. but i want too.. for once i want to touch someone else then you . you you ... me and i.. are finally listening tothe music that most suited me. a long time ago but it will last forever.. angels of light .. to believe i am beautiful. i want no jealousy. i want sucreries... ok .. my words got cut .. for a reason.. for the melody you voice makes in my eyes.. i... am .. falling .. falling .. no i won't hurt my knee. i'll fall into cotton blacl candy tasting cloud... ... love.. is not a word.. love is life .. life show you that passions exist .. when i'm melting in my chair... drunken with the sound of your name .. all over my lips... they are red and i just bite at my silver toungue.... comecome come come come come coem .. to me.. i won't scream hard enough to brake mirrors.. i want then sharp to reflect us . in real.. visionary. only ghost have no shadows.. i am life.... aware in divine scenery.drunkenly.. thirsty 8 days is no more sounds like infinity. will you .love. me..

i want the angel.. by jim carroll

I want the angel
Whose dreams are fatal
They cause the snake's milk to run and curdle

I want the angel
Whose darkness doubles
It absorbs the brilliance of all my troubles

I want the angel
That will not shatter
Every time I whisper, "Girl it does not matter"

I want the angel
Who's got the proof
She signals her devotion from the rails on the roof

I want the angel
That comes to stay
She don't let lawyers and ambition lead her away

I want the angel
Whose eyes are raving
Who takes what I'm giving and not what I'm saving

I want the angel
Whose bones are so sharp
That they can break through their own excuses

Well, to be a blind man,
Hey, that would be a fine thing
Then I could dream at night of total strangers
And all the music would be so spaceless
And all the women would be so faceless,
They'd be so faceless they'd be like old film
Just like old film I never did process

I want the angel
That knows the sky
She got virtue, she got the parallel light in her eye

I want the angel
That's partly lame
She filters clarity from her desperate shame

I want the angel
That knows rejection
Who's like a whore in love with her own reflection

I want the angel
Whose touch don't miss
When the blood comes through the dropper like a thick red kiss

If I could break through I could be certain
But this obsession is like some fiery curtain
All the numbers reduced to zero
And those who died young, they are my heroes
They are my heroes, they took the walk
Where the heart made sense and the mind can't talk

I want the angel
Whose child don't weep
She's got dreams designed for eternal sleep

I want the angel
That will not change
Into a four-legged monster in love with the strange

I want the angel
That never chooses
And don't come running back every time she loses

But I want the angel that never loses

now .. just just now..

montreal.. you are like this addiction i wanna leave sometimes.. but you have became such an easy sin to cover all.... i feel you in my skin.. you are a cheap but delightful i consume of you .. and i'm redeem over our relations. suit me and i'll suit you like the perfect silk dress in july .. i'l stay here t'll july .. i'll leave you sometimes.. because you drive me crazy .. i find myself wherever i go .. but when i stay .. then.. i can't lie.. you mirrored me all over brick walls no onetoughts they were crystal.. see through.... but fuck there is s much details in the sand. in silver sand .. i wish we i could find more gold and turn it into money . less work,,,, more more for you and me .. .
i .
i . more then the city
there is you .. and i am being honest like a child who have stolen too much candy blushes with no reasons. i let you know of everything.
and i hope that's o.k. je n'ai de comptes a rendre pour personne. mais j'ose te parler.. en ecrit si calme about this reality .. te dire ces choses qui me sont nouvelles.. nouvelles de l'au dela but i am alive.. so alive.. there will be sparles like gunshot to hurt no one when i see you . . . . . sometimes your body meets another story that would look good in a fashionable magazine.. but i don't read nomore these fashion magazine... i told you before.. i like old ancient poetry . in times where lovers would surrender . their toughts dripping in perfect copper ink. all over the paper... redemption become peace . rain cleans my history . and rust is now beautiful on the fences that protects my body ... until your rain drop in my reality . i wake up and i'm fine .. with my dreamings on my mind.. and it takes no time for the devil to wrap me in his feather of silvery .. but he loves me... and i'm an angel .
an angel of light .. let me go .. where no one know .. and i'll find you there ..
there where the wind blow.. and i'll be your shadow... still wanting to touch you.

Brumes et pluies

Ô fins d'automne, hivers, printemps trempés de boue,
Endormeuses saisons! je vous aime et vous loue
D'envelopper ainsi mon coeur et mon cerveau
D'un linceul vaporeux et d'un vague tombeau.

Dans cette grande plaine où l'autan froid se joue,
Où par les longues nuits la girouette s'enroue,
Mon âme mieux qu'au temps du tiède renouveau
Ouvrira largement ses ailes de corbeau.

Rien n'est plus doux au coeur plein de choses funèbres,
Et sur qui dès longtemps descendent les frimas,
Ô blafardes saisons, reines de nos climats,

Que l'aspect permanent de vos pâles ténèbres,
— Si ce n'est, par un soir sans lune, deux à deux,
D'endormir la douleur sur un lit hasardeux.

— Charles Baudelaire

judy ... el siept of deciembre.

jezuuuuzz.. have merci o que oui.. j'ai osee negligee mes ecrits, mes oublies.. i've spended so much movements, on the keyboards for you and you and you ... and it's o.k. i regret nothing. but i havn't taken the time to write for me.. me mm eme me mememe em . and tonight there was no riding for me, flats on my bi-(ice)cycle the bus becomes a truly rest for thinking , dreaming, creating photos with my eyes, in movements while waiting for cold-shot in burning lights... there will always be whyskey to surround me. o lovely. again i was piss on this no-one yet have invented the type-writing process ink from my delirious thinking in an outside warning, no more walking , just thinking, so fast my body is broken over, my mind is still on fire. i swear to god my life wouldn't that be easier if all i'ever tought so could drop so.. on the paper without me having to actually stay more and more awake... insomniak.... i am like an alley dog sniffing changes in the future.. i almost tought i would get lazy in my formal dishwashing job right by my house.. and all is right by my house.. but i am a cowboy, remember so i willl soon hop back into horses and fuck off my home just in time before this society starts to search again for me ... i'll pay off my sin, not my debts i said my sin they are sweeter like honey on my toungue, let me suck it all down ... once again. there is nowhere to find me. this city have vanished it's coffee they don't allow me to smoke no more... i am a pulmonaire's cloudy lover in need of more dust where i can hide my love like a spider-web i'll grow it from the tip of my fingers all over your walls. but you will not be afraid .. trust me... i intend to be a good boy so santa will come visit me. and we can be flakes in the snow fall... i'll build a fire inside . our shelter .. smells of ginger .. i like it when you write me .the word is honey

sherrier.

what's up with typing and smoking... tha's me in front of the computer.. coffee and whyskey ....arrgghh days r full of ice.. i ended up downtown not enough money to get back home, but o so perfect my friend miggan lives there.. so i dropped by . her and a bunch of frantic girls in need to hit the bars left .. im so glad i get to stay here .. in her empty flat, where i can shower then write . sit alone .outside .look . more rain to fall.. fall. over the city .. and in .. morrows i'll be walking slowly again, back to my work in the mexican kitchen, steps-foot. dreaming of movements and pillows .. and yeah '' i dream sometimes a little too much i could just have someone to come home to, someone waiting for me , so i would have more then a reason to come along in a place i still call home.. something like a road my feet could follow .
au travers de la nuit ... i walk n .. .. hollow...
there is always the space, the waiting for another vampire moon scalling...
( it' s memory lane from songs. ) waiting for me... i have such bad shoes to wander in the nights..
i would have probably made more sense in the times where Rimbaud use to walk on tables au dela de tres chere poete indigeres ..
i still know how to pray .. i have left in the snow , a child just like me ... to walk slowly .. like un enfant esseule.. a forsaken child.. i love this word. ( esseulee) an older woman i use to work with had a cd , incredible music ... and the album is called like that ///l'enfant esseulee.. she tried to pushed me so hard into making this freaking movie i should be doing .. but it's more complicated then that... the movie is me.. and to live is another story ....

icing purple room

i'm here, just by your side...if you would see the look in my eyes then you would know there is nothing scary with me. jami's watching you dream, and you told me the dreams you dive into should be sweeter. but lady i have to tell you none of us are strong enough to control the wishes of morphee. but as we care,i'll still be there when you wake up. i want to hold you, je t'attendrai, et comme la lune brillera, indochine is playing, low but i still fear it's too loud. i slept most of the day you were gone, the cats depressed and i, dreaming,i don't remember my sleep, myself... was i truly awake. am i alive just just now... all that matters is your sleep. and i lay conscience in silence. eyes open , i refuse to reflect only the lights so bright of the computer. i'd rather reflect the purple shadows are white in shines so slow just on the edge. you have darkskin and i also do. we come from a planet playground with giant orange structure to climb on. white sands we walk not. all we do is climb up the....
climb up higher on electrical wire . live forwards the day.

the days i think about you .....

the days i do, everything is still grey..call me dead. hopelessly romantic in lonely lands... i don't wanna clean my home, i chain smoke writing all day, ashes falling all over me..i wanna lay in deep bathtub, drunken me with music as loud as my thinking goes. i know you do not have the green eyes.. but i dream of it anyway. i don't think i am in love . i am thirsty, hungry .. i stand inside on a rock trying to see further, but all i see is colors dead of an autumn falling away. one weekend and you dared to leave me enough fragments to torture me in perfect play, we are sweeter then a crosswords puzzles.. i've found caveman writing about love in language so old i took a night time to recover their feelings... but love is immortal, has been and wil be.. i am not writing a protest but an act of life and i'd kill for it to be
true.

too many days where i hide inside, no fear only too lame to face the cold .. but you know i would run in the snow to see how it feels to see you again. i cannot even send you all the words i know too well talking in love's proses, you want none of this bullshit, you want verses of reality.. and i see fairy dressed in black with bloody eyes, visiting my bed every night i tried to sleep. you belong there, there is far for a broken me... like money have ever stopped me , i know better then that .
too much time inside and i see fog, but i like the word mist ... cloud in my goddamn windows. no skylight.. no more of the moon reflecting in my eyes. no more shooting star only cloud and if they could be black, everything but grey ... soon my eyes i will have to paint them black. do you have a clue how much i wanna run away with you.
where i do not care, i wish you would ask me like no one do these things anymore.. head shots.. and fuck know si am good at that . but i am tired of choosing , even thinking about where to go, where to belong. i belong with someone better then somethings, 25 years with myself, 'es una vita' but they say life goes longer then that. somewhen someone forgot to teach me of individuality, then i learn better of duality, battling my own self is over, i redeem, and no regrets , i still do wrong and i still do good. but i am blase in too many days. what about this eternal coffee, where i could smoke for a quarter life and never choke. i feed myself from th elook in your eyes.. and i breathe low whenever you feel down, and i hold my breath whenever you cry too much, scared of i could dye, you laugh and whisper the tears are over. i smile.

i smile

i still smile.. i do.. you, beautiful ghost to keep me awake even when i, alone needing to hide under layers to keep me warm. but i want cold, my blood is boiling, but reaches my heart , the skin is lacking .. my ears cold.. no wind. waterfall.. inside. but i want it to poor all over the streets i need to go through if i could see you . you are alive. i am too scared of being haunted again to let you go. i won't. if you are scared then i will be too...

SERENADE


by Edgar Allan Poe
(1850)

So sweet the hour, so calm the time,
I feel it more than half a crime,
When Nature sleeps and stars are mute,
To mar the silence ev'n with lute.
At rest on ocean's brilliant dyes
An image of Elysium lies:
Seven Pleiades entranced in Heaven,
Form in the deep another seven:
Endymion nodding from above
Sees in the sea a second love.
Within the valleys dim and brown,
And on the spectral mountain's crown,
The wearied light is dying down,
And earth, and stars, and sea, and sky
Are redolent of sleep, as I
Am redolent of thee and thine
Enthralling love, my Adeline.
But list, O list,- so soft and low
Thy lover's voice tonight shall flow,
That, scarce awake, thy soul shall deem
My words the music of a dream.
Thus, while no single sound too rude
Upon thy slumber shall intrude,
Our thoughts, our souls- O God above!
In every deed shall mingle, love.

serenade is the word i adore.

the night is falling, i listen to many serenade, but i am not ready for my own.

i want to taste the paradise of lost soul, those that fills up the holes. but i have to resist and feel the holes empty... i fear emptyness more then i fear death.
Anais Nin says' i live in a beautiful prison which i can only escape by writing''
i would survive in jail. i am obsess with the images of jail these days, do i feel like a criminal. at 16 yrs old i use to say i wanted to be a serial lover.. therefore love is much more killer then any men could ever harakiri is own self.
love to red, red to the color of blood . bleeding to death. but it is perhaps the wrong color, cuz your life is worthless is you leave it without loving and loving first. then le vent l'emportera, au loin where only heart can see. blind you must be if you forget how little you are . and the ocean could have swallowed you many times. you are none of a survivor, you are forgiven, that's al , that's it for now...

i am aware today
so much i look so serious
when i read you , i smile.
i think it's beautiful
( i know you know )
we study. i am a tender( fragile) subject and you are art i havn't met . yet.
we are unbreakable fragile.

dear friend. i still talk to my ownself.

mornings are late .. the best i can afford right now is to sleep .. until i get to work. and even there it all feels like a big dream.. i would rather be gone far where the dreams have flavours, where you can touch them, where they make you cry , where everything feels a lot more real. i wanna survive instead of just hiding . i wanna struggle with my whole body, instead of thinking and thinking, i want people to take my love because it's to o much for me alone. the music becomes too intense on morning lie this ... i gave a tittle to this text , the words are not for my old friend, the girl i will always love , but the feeling i had just when i awoke was for you . i have been hiding, avoiding to see you , not because i dont mis syou , but because i feel so bad i havnt give you back whatbelongs to you .. i really want to. but i can be a bastard of premium grades when i party , and i burn in flames everything that surrounds me.
now again and again i have 3 weeks to give more money away to the government , for a film i refuse to make right now. Jonathan say it's o.k. i have a whole year. i hate thinking about the years to come. it's not really moving to see myself in here right now, just before all goes into frozen land. after magikal weekend everyting is low. the coffee is true company. and you are still here alone, chain-smoking... you are thinking of moving, but it's only half-making sense. when i look arround i do know i am not the only one, struggling but it feels like i'm seeing without my glasses.
' if i should dye right now, i would not feel , cuz i have never feel completeness. .. (..) i wanna love you t'll the seas are dry. t'll i dye"" this is not from me, but i can feel it anyway . it;s a crazy feeling you get when you search in between all of this human race. when all you want is love and you forget about your ownself...

'i'll be seeing you ' b.h.

night... we don't really know no more when night fall... less sunshine, it suits me for now ...
winter's coming and i feel like it's gonna be l'opposee en entier venu juste pour moi.. l'oppose de l'an dernier ( last winter ) non pas pour me consoler mais pour m'ensorceler. that's all... i know i spended the last summer complaining about all, this city, the people i knew but never saw, my ownself. all. and now there is this thing in the air, i feel emotional but not overwhelm. there is .... you . rain fall. but i am blind, soon i'll be snow fall and we will discover hotter then no one knows... like the kind of sugar , i , can only taste so much without being fed.... i am just realizing, feeling inside that none of the fucking food i ate feeds me more then the vision of you ... and i am starving , left strangly wordless...

now what .. right when i wannawrite more.. i get a call from downstairs .. i'll go .. away but not far ... i have praise inside for the nights i have left awaiting for the day i'll be haunted again

inside playground

''Ordinary life does not interest me. I seek only the high moments. I am in accord with the surrealists, searching for the marvelous.'' Anais Nin .
lately, i could say i do research, i write always but since it is pretty fuking rare i'' receive real letter. it's sweet in my head to write about others. i sended a poem from beaudelaire to this person i really like. she liked the note and the poem, i get excited and happy with certain little thing, that might seem little, but it meant all to me .. all to me for this week in one half-page.. sending this message was my kind a gambling in an honest way, you send a part of you , you try to choose the good one, the one where the answers comes back to you, play the cards , but play'em well. pretend just to see that you havn't forgot how to play good... tonight is gonna last forever, i fear it .. but apparently fear is good sometimes... so i'll let it be .
i dream i could just knock out and be sleeping already . but i am bad at this game.

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...

afternoon scotch... angels of light

no no i am not trying to say i am an angel, i refuse to be that kind of angel... once you have listened to 'angels of light's ' lyrics you realize it has nothing truly holy .. i love it .. it's middle of the day i am waiting for the bells to ring so i go to work... then i can eat . it's crazy all i had left in my fridge were little children's cup of chemical pudding, and veggies crackers, i am still trying to figure out if there is truly any vegetables for me in there. money release came in today , her name is sam, she's my new roomate, finally . i have hopes in there. 2 more weeks and i am finally going to Toronto... i can't wait , there is a coupe of person i want to see so bad. and i might even have money , last time i was there it was such a struggle to come back, almost impossible, i almost got drop in the middle of the ride back home, for a lack of money ....

it's funnt i finally switched when talking to people from '' i am not doing too good ''to i am actually fine, it would be ridicule to say i am not fine, i got a home, a job and a soon to be found 2000 dollars grant for my movie, but it's the jail type of grant , i have to stay ( kind of ) in the city for a year, right after 3 months straight of wanting to leave , i get my sentence .. one year more... i am wondering if i will truly be able to keep my kitchen job for one year ... lasting t'll christmas feels long already .... fall has just begun... i lovethe weather now, the wind more present , the slight cold on my face . i should go out , more often to wal... but wouldn't it be nice to walk with someone.... . in autumn's leaves. fall... for you ..

life

the aim of life is to live,
and to live means to be aware,
joyously,drunkenly, serenely, divinely aware... ( Henry Miller )

serenade from may 18 th 2005, words by the sea.

finally i get re-write all the letters to the beloved...the letters written in the bathtub.... and the peices of papers, filled in pulses all over my life.... i started to work again in my dearest montreal.... not to long ago, a fine job ... 3 days later i was gone... appear to be on the side of the waters, not any kind of waters. the eastern point of kanada.
newfoundland. i had to climb up the hills because i saw lights on top a fort.. it was the only place for me to see...
i needed soberty. but what am o crazy , people should read love and laughter by henri miller, instead of getting immaculate by the tv's intimacy.... i need flesh and bones. i need raw myself and i am alone.... i need to run up to the girl that knew none of my crazy me when she called me mon amour.... i will ride on a train... my friends , they tend to get nervous about security.. safety first says henri . but the day i stop beleivin' . this day i stop smokin' i am more convince that unfortunaly i might get hit by the first random bus in an empty city.... can you truly hear me.
i want you to call up my name...like in all the song i have been listening... alone it is crazy to be me.
Marguerite Duras; '' un ecrivain,seul c'est de la folie, rien ne l'arrete.... j'avais ce travail-la, ecrire et aimer "

serenade from may 18 th 2005, words by the sea.

finally i get re-write all the letters to the beloved...the letters written in the bathtub.... and the peices of papers, filled in pulses all over my life.... i started to work again in my dearest montreal.... not to long ago, a fine job ... 3 days later i was gone... appear to be on the side of the waters, not any kind of waters. the eastern point of kanada.
newfoundland. i had to climb up the hills because i saw lights on top a fort.. it was the only place for me to see...
i needed soberty. but what am o crazy , people should read love and laughter by henri miller, instead of getting immaculate by the tv's intimacy.... i need flesh and bones. i need raw myself and i am alone.... i need to run up to the girl that knew none of my crazy me when she called me mon amour.... i will ride on a train... my friends , they tend to get nervous about security.. safety first says henri . but the day i stop beleivin' . this day i stop smokin' i am more convince that unfortunaly i might get hit by the first random bus in an empty city.... can you truly hear me.
i want you to call up my name...like in all the song i have been listening... alone it is crazy to be me.
Marguerite Duras; '' un ecrivain,seul c'est de la folie, rien ne l'arrete.... j'avais ce travail-la, ecrire et aimer "

serenade from may 16 th 2006 ( old text written by the sea )

finally i get re-write all the letters to the beloved...the letters written in the bathtub.... and the peices of papers, filled in pulses all over my life.... i started to work again in my dearest montreal.... not to long ago, a fine job ... 3 days later i was gone... appear to be on the side of the waters, not any kind of waters. the eastern point of kanada.
newfoundland. i had to climb up the hills because i saw lights on top a fort.. it was the only place for me to see...
i needed soberty. but what am o crazy , people should read love and laughter by henri miller, instead of getting immaculate by the tv's intimacy.... i need flesh and bones. i need raw myself and i am alone.... i need to run up to the girl that knew none of my crazy me when she called me mon amour.... i will ride on a train... my friends , they tend to get nervous about security.. safety first says henri . but the day i stop beleivin' . this day i stop smokin' i am more convince that unfortunaly i might get hit by the first random bus in an empty city.... can you truly hear me.
i want you to call up my name...like in all the song i have been listening... alone it is crazy to be me.
Marguerite Duras; '' un ecrivain,seul c'est de la folie, rien ne l'arrete.... j'avais ce travail-la, ecrire et aimer "

sept. 23 th 2'33 am...... sleep

just a little words, .. i just posted a big text that was sitting on my screen, it was actually the smallest , i will soon try to put images or a layout or something prettyon my blog pages. for now it is words and words.... and it's funny how this blog is hidding , but somehow we like to have a part of ourself lost on th enet, because it is a fucking lost place, it's a senseless place for loner sometimes, for people who might feel brilliant replacing television by their computers. i usually take letters fro journal i have on the machine and post it here... it's a superficial journal, but it's still me, except people should try handwriting, it's gorgeous , it does turn me on, hand writing and old books, old poetry , new poetry , stories, i talk like a true reader who reads all kinds of shit, nope, i am actually picky lik eyou wouldn't believe ,... it always takes me forever to find a book i might like .. but when i do , i do for real.... i am now reading henry Miller's tropics of cancer after is 'love and laughter' they both are amazing... i want more queer litterature but my city is pauvre dans ce cas-ci .... i just just recovered internet home, so i'll probably be writing a lot to the estranged.. i like it... indeed it's only and will always be just long long conversation with myself. i went for a bit of therapy and realize no one will ever know me as muc as my words are dripping, i have so much journals i felt like i should land the therapist one for her freaking boring life ( i didnt say it, she said it ) ... going there and doing a speech to them made me realize t'll forever that i am so far away from crazy ... i am a freak ,,, but if one thing i became not is insane.. i am mad only about one thing, more like obsess ...l.o.v.e. wait a bit you'll see soon... it shows.... i recently wrote a letter to this lovely woman i know in Toronto, she was quite surprised how not emotionnally craving it was, more down to earth... she liked it... it's like a file.... not everyone can support that much overwhelming lovingness ( ha ha ha ) but for me its a bit hard to live without it ! it can feel so empty ...
nut i always survive... like a friend pirate would say , we have to , go through .... because there is always something after . i cannot throw away or forget the past , i keep it for lonely days , i keep it even when the lost hurts like knifes that are intertwine in the heart but it stays and healing can be, but sometimes old loves appear like new kind of pain everyday, dreams awake with no issues, and lay awake dreaming of deep sleep.

deep sleep and dreams in which...
you might feel the love have survived.
sur ce je quite vers les bras de morphee...

times awaiting, re .. read .. again and i'll change....

just a little words, .. i just posted a big text that was sitting on my screen, it was actually the smallest , i will soon try to put images or a layout or something prettyon my blog pages. for now it is words and words.... and it's funny how this blog is hidding , but somehow we like to have a part of ourself lost on th enet, because it is a fucking lost place, it's a senseless place for loner sometimes, for people who might feel brilliant replacing television by their computers. i usually take letters fro journal i have on the machine and post it here... it's a superficial journal, but it's still me, except people should try handwriting, it's gorgeous , it does turn me on, hand writing and old books, old poetry , new poetry , stories, i talk like a true reader who reads all kinds of shit, nope, i am actually picky lik eyou wouldn't believe ,... it always takes me forever to find a book i might like .. but when i do , i do for real.... i am now reading henry Miller's tropics of cancer after is 'love and laughter' they both are amazing... i want more queer litterature but my city is pauvre dans ce cas-ci .... i just just recovered internet home, so i'll probably be writing a lot to the estranged.. i like it... indeed it's only and will always be just long long conversation with myself. i went for a bit of therapy and realize no one will ever know me as muc as my words are dripping, i have so much journals i felt like i should land the therapist one for her freaking boring life ( i didnt say it, she said it ) ... going there and doing a speech to them made me realize t'll forever that i am so far away from crazy ... i am a freak ,,, but if one thing i became not is insane.. i am mad only about one thing, more like obsess ...l.o.v.e. wait a bit you'll see soon... it shows.... i recently wrote a letter to this lovely woman i know in Toronto, she was quite surprised how not emotionnally craving it was, more down to earth... she liked it... it's like a file.... not everyone can support that much overwhelming lovingness ( ha ha ha ) but for me its a bit hard to live without it ! it can feel so empty ...
nut i always survive... like a friend pirate would say , we have to , go through .... because there is always something after . i cannot throw away or forget the past , i keep it for lonely days , i keep it even when the lost hurts like knifes that are intertwine in the heart but it stays and healing can be, but sometimes old loves appear like new kind of pain everyday, dreams awake with no issues, and lay awake dreaming of deep sleep.

deep sleep and dreams in which...
you might feel the love have survived.
sur ce je quite vers les bras de morphee...

old texture laid left on the screen .

night . o it is perfect . because i will never say it enough . why o night, o it is perfect... why o why . probably because i had have enough . of moving arround going to see people . not that i don't like you people but you know i feel like i do good by myself . o yes like you could never beleive it . have i told you soon i'll be turning 25 years old and i have been all over the place . now i needed my own place . my eyes are fed , last years and more from eating garbage to feeding you, and i of fine cuisine. ,your eyes ate it all. like vorace , i AM an animal and i love it that way . i follow my instinct , about an hour ago they were hungry so all i had to do was appear like a perfect guest at my friend didi she lives underneath me and it is wonderful that way . we would kill each other with too much talking . it's increedible how crazy people like us can talk talk talk in public and alone there is nothing left to say . and we like it that way .. but see... let me tell you something . people's career, people's interest . alone you read, watch t.v. or sew , do the laundry . .

i talk ... still .. in perfect silences . with the music i adore ... even in silences when i could be doing so many other things .. all i wanna do is write ... like an eternal conversation . fragmented words that never stops .. and i do not see the point of shutting up . more times when i go out to the parties. la fete. it happens in my head. i 'd rather sip out to the bottle of wine every night like if it tastes nostalgia . because it entertains me more and more to write or just smoking cigarettes after cigarettes but really i am that healthy ... i just holds them ... they look fancy on my , in between my fingers. all over the paper we use to dance , i have eternal strenght in my fingers . i want to get a lover... in my life.... maybe i'lll finally get busy and appears too this whole wide world like a settle down type of woman, a fine job, still i am an artist , i have a bike, a computer , a cell phone, and a HOME ...


but ii am disturbed by my own melancholy , i am a dreamer. can you hear me .

i am THE DREAMER . my friend tom is the relayer , sometimes i feel like being the lover . but as for now i will be left in total .. all i wanna be is a dreamer . so let me dream the fuck alone .

so .. later .. tonight .. ashley is in the house . perfect . i feel like she will get herself cosy . . and having a bed ....

the wind is perfect , i have my own balcony and i am in love with it .... i have the fresh wind that caress my skin . i can write and give tom a break of house guest , now i can host the freaky lovely people in my house and it is hell o f a pleasure . to be surroundede . with rad and ashley in the kitchen , i grabbed an x-tra futon for her . and i have my room .. soon . it will be colored by my own history , i want to be able to invite julia for breakfast . . i wanna be able to invite who the fuck i feel like . and make them feel confortable . in walking inside my bubble ...

night time . sexy sounds of the dogs on my beds playing like lovers trying to unravelled each other . but i am guilty or more like a pervert eye that always stays open i d not feel like going to sleep . why would i . when i can stay awake t'll my hands they hurt . i am listening to this old cd of that movie basketball diaries.. i wanna read more of jim carrols's diary .

he was hell of a junky and lived up to his own private and final fantasy .

and my name is margo .. so am i . living to the core of my fantasy . and so be it . that is all i had to say . tomorrow i have to attend a job meeting . be a part of it . . completely .

now what .. words for the girl i wanna meet , one day . maybe, we will be going away run away . in a car i will have learn to drive by then. hopefully . then we go away in perfect shadows.


will you let me ring the bell . will i be trying to figure it out . i cannot tell myself to quit . what i started a long time ago . a long time ago . . when i was a little boy , i was born to be a broken dame , and a silver boy , the kind of boy who walks steady right up to the altar. where i would like to lay my dreams .... the SERPENTS will drop in circles around our heads and they will draw circles and circles of silver lights just enough so i can see the lights coming down . the lights coming down . swings like a blade , swings that blade all over me . show me how close you can get . how bad we can get .. let's be electric . together . let's be electric in an order all together . set myself on fire, and i will never let anyone burn the feather that wrapped all over yours , all over you . i wanna wrapped my hands and feather all over you .. so no one can touch ... or even think of hurting you . no one will ever try to hurt you my love. but . we have not. met yet
.


this is always the words of the end ... i have not met you yet . .. ..

night is gonna fall .. not yet .. soon . we are july 3 rd .. i woke up in style ... which means i had a shower then some weird new herbal tea . and scotch whyskey ... and i am writting ... smoking .... good god it feels healthy . my way ... and nothing else matters .... i don't even need to run away from the house that doesn't belong to me ... i have friends a little bit all over this city . some of them are away, some of them are closer, but they know. i think we all know we love each others. and life will go on .

now further in july .. looks like i am going crazy ... la solitude.... with one of my friend, , o c'est vrai du fait on ne rit plus... love and laughter commme dirait henry miller. i 'd rather be fuck out of my head with real girls... the one that drives me crazy .. i truly don't mind crazy lovers ..... i want affection, love .. more love ... and i'll give it all i have to give ...
( notes from the now... it does not work that way .. at all .. it's crazy re reading old stuff you wrote .. then you ralize how quick you have change , how 3 months ago is far .. away it'll go )
someone to break my body ....seriously .. someone to get me out of my mind....

dans la plus douce de ces nuits je reste un plus ..... predateurs ... and i feel ready to run .. run in the deep wild .. nothing to stop me .. break my my body all night long .. somebody get hurts ... .la folie je la connais ... elle cogne dans mes plus profond reves eveillees

camarade..look at yourself, already , nothing is real , nothing to fail me over.
i wish i could get out of my body, out of my mind , out of mysef ..

i could be riding in the desert ,naked , with my silver toungue all over the body i choose to adore.

all i do is smoking cigarettes, getting stoned and i want more, i wish i could be with a lover by the sea, moonlights,and sleeping not alone, wandering stars, and for now i am alone in a room . getting , aggressive on the computer, i can't get enough of myself, i wish there was p.j.harvey loud , denis i remember, and i remember more.
i want to go travel but not alone , in which i died ...

***** that is one of the many text laid on my computer... i don't mind sharing with you, unknown .. *****

to learn to live in the now

waking up , it's no more morning glory . the heat it heavy.
coffee and cigarettes for breakfast . nothing more.
except i would like to go ride in the rain ... to go ride , and maybe hop a train
but i refuse to leave alone. i am waiting . endlessly . for the perfect companion. and then i might go away . south . wher i could re-write the tropics.

and smokes cigarettes. chain chain smokin' . i will let it rain.

of course i had to expect . that feeling of lneliness to catch me in my dreams.
awake, and my bed is left undone. i havn't spoke to no one lately.
i cried in my bed. the feelings . was left . inside. alone. .lonely
today was like yesterday. i didn't expect . more .

i think. i have never felt that lonely .... empty.
my name is still . marijo st-amour. i look like a boy . i am a woman. i need love. .... without it . nothing exist .

i have these words tattooed on my fingers. f.e.a.r.n.o.l.o.v.e..

today. i burn in the day

today, what a fucking day . and i am here to write some more. because there is not much to stop me. / i ran away with my friend didi down-town there is nothing ther there . nothing there for me . do i really care some more. i want t get out of my body . i can't afford that right now . i am stock with a body that's mine i know exaactly how to carry . flesh and bones but seriously have you ever felt any light and the day. there is sun shines and it burns my skinns . and it's itchchy . ca grille . ca grille ... ca piqque . what the fuck am i suppose to do . on a nights like this .. i wannna cry . i wanna cries. i wanna fly away. so you willl not catch me where ever i choose to stay . i w ill go ad fly away. sleep away .. a way. my name is margo .. not marijo ??? only for the private,. and intimate.

morning i wish they would last

morning. awake. not enough time. i am struggling for details like i don't know how to set up my computer . run programs. i want my house to be set . i want to have days that don't exist . where i can clean the whole space . and grow plants , and make tea. and feel clear . and not know that i have to go i the outside world to work for 8 hours. the come back and sleep. and tomorrow is my day off.... but i have so much to do . i need to create myself a kitchen spae . i need to swim. i need more fruits, and energy . the kind you get from the ocean ... i need love . i need to cry .. i need someone to hold me .... i havnt cried lately ... we need that .. i have something like a strong know in my throat i don't realize it . but i don't feel good . and no one knows. i am real real good at going outside in the days . and doing all i have to do . but i need the tears to let go. i need someone to say i love you margo. i guess i am a cancer, it;s apparently the full moon coming soon .. my birthday ,. coming soon. i want someone to take me . outside. i need more air then the fish. i need to breath under water ..

that's it i am crying now. it feels better . i guess . but i have to run away . to work.

i dream my mother would wish me sweet dreams. in whispers. and more music. melancholic.
sad drippings like crystal fall on my skin when it rains i don't hide . i let it be.
i follow my own destiny .....

i am off writing . not because i want too . because i have to go to work ....

home . sweet home

nights. finally it happens. no more running arrround for no one . ' i have access what you could posssibly call stability. my own way. i realize there is a lot of friends you don't see no more. and you miss them . but there is also all the ones arround you . could call or hang out but mi animal's instinct pushes me to rent movies, to et a lots of weird exxotic, tropical juices that's all i drink, and whyskey. i was seriously wondeering what shall i do with a kitchen . and i found answers , plants, chinese plants and herbs i wanna grow . so i can move my body in motion . breathe inside my home. have a real homage to my ancester the monkeys. bananas and lychees , espresso and whyskeys, i know i know i actually have a pretty weird diet . but it suits me endlessly, all of the above ingredients and maybe i can get some chinese tea, and rent a movie....then i'll feel confortable to invite a girl.. for diner.... .

i want to be able to cook again, i wannabe able to calll your name.
in the midnight prays. just like a prayer. i am pelegrim....
un pelerin... is that the actual words.. am i loosing fench .. or am i loosing my mind. it doesn't matter .. as long as i keep it up to

my hands,, they are craving for the long run . immortal training.

there is no rest for warriors like me .... i choose to live .

in the name of l.o.v.e.. .... in less then 8 days i will be turning
in a quarter of century .... and if i made it that far .. i am in.
for the long run .............. ride the waves of intensity.