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 .