redemption on it's way....

it has been a long long time since i posted on this blog and apologies said... but soon i may redirect this blog into a rebirth of my other web-site who was called S.k.a.n.d.h.a.l. inspired by the five aggregates in Buddhism, form, perception, sensation, mental formations and consciousness .. and these aspects i always saw in the many forms of arts i love and cherish.
so now, where am i right now. finally back in Montréal and slowly breathing through winter and this feeling that spring is coming with the changes in action and for myself in transformation of my body coming to a term... a rebirth.. in less then 8 days i am having top-surgery and other details .. i just started today this insane cleanse of my body, nourishing the Yin and Yang inside me so they circle and play together in more sharpened duality ... so much changes coming and lately i have been blessed to see who my old true friends are.. .and the new people in my life .. also a new cat that i renamed Charles to honor my dear mister Baudelaire... he his hell of a sweet feline.
more pictures and images to come.. it is just the begining..but i have to say i have been missing words like the sunshine... like the ocean inside of me as been quiet .. soon it shall waves and rage and beauty will ... be ..

last night for a town i freely shall leave behind me.

east southern Montréal. old friends equals old habits. sinful time for old lady pirates and their Armani pantsy uncle daddy sponsoring a fine fine one last merry christmas story. music y perhaps a last diner for meat lover. the only moment you wish to erase or pass through faster then you can remember is the time you carry all bags, bicycles and your sleeping body through buses and custody. once you are past those lines your heartbeat comes back to waving slowly. bye bye to your old country. 30 something hours trapped in a greyhound is a fair price to welcome future history. a new beginning but you never truly get rid of your past old history. this one i carry inked on my body, the look in my eyes, the words i let go somehow way more easy once i am off the city. back to the road. i like my life in motion. takes speed in day life tapestry to carry my heart beat's fantasy.

now

time

i just wanna spend all day in there.

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

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

firts sunday in this city

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