reserve the battery

o technology telling me soon you might dare to delete my words. i just suggest you not to even dare .. since i am out there when i should be into my dreams .. but i sleep like a dead engine... only i awake remember the stories in futile melody going through my head ... and it feels good .. so good .. with .. the music once my dear old bleoo told me mazzy star would always be a hell of an endless serenade .. for all those night you feel alone . in bed curled up into my sheet . i can let go . and i know in the end all will be o.k .. and my dear sweatheart you are away tonight .. and tomorrow i'll be on my way starting an era of surfing couches and streets in the city i find sometimes cold ... there will always be music in my eyes in order to warm me up.. t

tomorrow another working day.. and soon i shall be elaborate to tell you my heart is turn on by the art .. of living . i cannot fear to love you .. and i will not weight you are something coming to me slightly you have been more then the perfect light breeze into my lung and running veins..
where ever you are .. i send you lanes of a serenade modern...sous l'espace au-dela de mon regard .

stabat mater ..

the melody have found me straight through the line mediane in the day when i feel the breeze of loneliness piercing my mind. not that this feeling is empty au contraire it is sometimes too dense, for my ownself, what to do. outside this world, and i like to go into my head only in a chaos i feel tender my blood dilates. and today is a long day, and i need to stay away from you , i need to navigate in the islands alone inner persona. and to this music needs a scenery unbelievable, the ocean raging de preference, the wind a must, rain can fall, as long as i can be warm inside. imagine the feeling of being drugged by someone's arms, soft but precise the movements shall be. and the noise are no longer terrible, the chaos you ear downtown on a weekday when chimpanzee not always so well... behave in the streets . la de-ambule des corps febriles et pourtant je me dois de sentir . se mouvoir de soi-meme. an hour then two with a friend , baking flesh under sun getting deeper and i kept moving a little more north, to where i might stop for a scotch in words, i don't do prose, i lined the words like white clouds of fading tar elaborates from the chain smoker.

i am a train . in a movie where the shutters are low in times. less then the essence of sinema , 24;1 is a luxury for amateur, i crave the avant-garde of technology, and here don't get me wrong i am certainly not talking about your computerize manic attention you are nothing to what life can do by itself when the body becomes the fine brush it can be , the dancers are moving the way reality needs to be shaken. all that impossible without the melody i can be.

i have been seeing you lately and sometimes we all worry looking at the world to show us what love should be . but even here in kanada they are all sometimes a hiding re-play of what american cinema tried to be . far lands from a world only fellini could create. from a romantic , trepide words in exchange back and forth between lovers hiding behind the lenses of a master in a breathless sort of french avant-garde. the only lessons i kept a fair souvenir from, godard was a key to what life can be .. you shot her from the right angle, and she shall will fall opposite . there is no need of reality only hearts can see. what there is to feel.

and i believe the way animals wild trust their flair, feroce envy to walk, traces of tender paws into a jungle no one see. aware i can be , and i will miss you , and there is nothing wrong with that. nothing really.
seulement je suis nee de cette race qui pour autant mes sentiments se sont fait fracasser i bleed a certain hope that will always taste sweeter boiled like the perfect sinner. i believe there is more complexe in all i can see through the day, but my heart is a serious cells holding century of swords went through only to sharpened it like a deadly knife, and i will not hurt you. and you will not hurt me .
day light teaches you better then complains , and the nights were born for the lovers .

i will stop for now the serenade non pas moderne, but there is a melody in my vein when i hear the sounds you are feeling good even lorsque ton regard je peut percevoir sans meme te voir .. deviens sombre. je coulerai des soleils d'un rouge feroce si souple . and will i dance for you .
maybe so .. dare we to invite one and another or will you push me fall into another trolley .
i told you i don't do highway , i like rollercoaster
alive or capture.
l'instant se fait pregnant en ta presence.
et de ton absence, j'occupe mes mains a la danse , l'echos de mon corps en encre sleeps for you .

lettres oubliees..

for today , for tomorrow. et quoi encore. i havn't finish properly a letter lately, waiting to move back home, waiting here to be with you . and i am leaving. everything goes down my skin like water on a duck's body. waiting is not even a word anymore, craving my get the fuck away faster then ever, takes time to make up my mind but when i do , it's a situation de non retour.
and to say good bye to the lovely people i have met, but all these people i see not. you saved me from raging my last days in here. you have almost took control of my eyes so they don't get into dream fog, gone far. i stayed with you until the bells ring us over. not inside my stomach you will stay there. i don't forget easily my love .
but i am obsess with no responsibility, no rent. money into my bike and some more peices back into me. i drink the days away, pourring scotch before diner comes a matter, i eat and i drink, and i still chain smoke to the point of watching the cat coughing, well what can i do he hangs out with me compulsively. i need to get out of here , of my mind. of this place spoil, i need to be lost in the city i know, i need my reality to circles inside my stomach a little bit more. even the tought that i'll have to run again to drop cv and find a job is crazy , i wanna talk to someone and work .. that's it. i want to be riding 12o km/h with my lover towards the sea. towards a mountain. down down down ... . . and up again..
i am almost scared of your silences, i know they still means something, but i am having trouble read cuz i see black and the lights when it comes is way too bright .. i want those green skies we saw, endless. and days that goes by with my run arround in montreal where i know where to stop to have coffee. i need to see my dog because i have been a distant mother.
i want you . no gain or lost , just time. .
but i don't care anymore, i feel relax for the storms to come, it's o.k. now summer is coming the rain falls are gonna be warm enough .. warmth .

more.

night .. home, i left for only one last ride for the day. i wanted scotch, and there was cheap pasta awaiting me back home. everythin i eat makes me sick, but i can take the alcohol.
strangely i like reading quotes of people i adore, people i will never know for real but i live like they are the ones i believe in their whole life... margeritte Duras is my favorite, and 8/10 of her quotes refer to alcohol, if she manage to lie for that long, then it gives me hopes. red wine would make me sick... there was also a quote on time, the better way to spend time, is to waste it .. that's even more hope for me lately, it keeps me almost away from crying, but tears let go is more healthy then the seriousness on my face.. a woman crying is a beautiful thing .
'' capri, c'est fini, et dire que c'etait la ville de mon premier amour, je ne crois pas que j'y retournerais un jour.'' i wanna watch this film again. i wanna better desk to write... emma's got the best set-up for words, except smoking in less. and i would rather sit on broken glass and be able to smoke then to not .. it's worst then starving, bien pire... que tout.
i am an obsessive persona by choice, i could chose to forget , hang out out there .. but i want you to chain me down wherever you want .. where it's cold.. where i can't even touch myself, i will come anyway. in pitch darkness, i don't need to see in order to dream awake.
i am kind of a sadistic thinking over my desires, i assume it looks like i like it that way , i'd rather feel everything then nothing at all... i'd rather lie in bed alone like it hurts, then to be listening to someone i don't fucking care about. and there is a lot i don't care for... just just now.. still, i am awaiting my package release from montreal..
waiting, for the impatient me is hard. the music is not helping me, the memories is worst, but the taste i remember in my mouth keeps me starving awaiting, i will not let go .. i eat not to fall. the only things i like for now, scotch and chocolate..
my bed feels empty, my body is getting colder. i am sick, inside, i look lost when i ride my bike, and the look in my eyes, is looking too far for no one to understand.
fuck i write like someone in need of a cold shower. but ah ah ah i am a writer , alone. alone.

living in a bottle.

and soon i'll start having a hard time breathing because i have past the line where th ebottle is half full, then empty i see through . and obviously i still see clear . i always do. and i am floathing in sober land , and the eyes are more then crystal clear. too much for nothing.. for things to disapear. and i feel comfortable in the prison i lay in . i push myself out on my bike everymorning but the days are endless. and late i cant sleep.. my body would be in pain i would barely feel. all i wanna feel is you . and it's not there. it's somewhere , i belong .
'' i wake up and im fine and my dreams still on my mind, but it doesn't take long for the demons to come and visit me ''
my demons are daily kind of gentle compare to how they use to be .
but it doesn't matter they still drive me crazy. i am not kidding . i stand up but i don't feel like it, it's a fucking jungle of human species outside my window. and i remember clearly when i was there with you , ther was no body, no streets, no cars . only skies turning green for the night , t'll the sun would reappear and bring in the fear of loosing it, this moment. i feel like we did not know how perfect it would be even in times i think too much, and so do you . but in the end it was.
i am going nowhere but i still wanna take you with me.
i live in somewhere no one knows but you saw through me..
i refuse to let go of the look into my eyes.. even when people try to make me smile.
there is dripping melancholy already inside my body, soon it'll come over my skin and burn.
with or without sunshine i careless.

i know i am a hell of an oldskool dreamer. but i like to believe i heard my calling, from the deep of your silences.
you were like this slow drug in the morning . ( pj) and i awake now trying to forget that i know how you do simple thinking. i am not a simple human being .
it's six and the night is only begining , i crave for it's ending . so i sleep, this time when i am dreaming and not remembering. i am sober, but dosed in far. far .. i hate the word.
i am waiting from a begining of a life here in toronto .. i have forgotten how to be a normal worker. that also , i fucking care not.. i am truly drastic when love is ... . exist, away from me ..
away from you . forgive me it has nothing to do with where i wanna be... you don't chain in a room like this , an animal thirsty for calor. . .
i wanna sleep and forget . but now my brain is set-up to remember yesterdays, and try to live through the day .. i am th eliar who said there was no need to reality. but i stay here with me. and the cat even is trying to escape. i saw him coughing last night do you have a clue how i can smoke.. but trust me i will not die of it...
le corps survie. et continuera de survivre. let say i am living la dolce vita right now in my system.. but i feel my heart beat screaming in pitch black...
i wann abe on the road.. the one going back home..

how long will i wait. we'll see

les journees a n'en plus finir...

looking forwards the day .. that's exactly what i do .. i run if i have too. i still hate th eweather like crazy . when i see you time doesn't matter. we do nothing and it's somehow fun... super-fun. simple. i talk and then you do it too. different. but i look tall, i look like the don't fuck with me type of girl. but you lead me where you go, when you go nowhere i follow. you don't know. i do.
back home i write, eat a little then find scotch.. my friend lady pirate of montreal said so, if whyskey hasn't kiled me by now, it never will. that's right .. i listen to amazing music.. i do little else. i don't bother jerking the day away. when i sleep by your side it's all there is. all i need.
i hope you will tell me.. what you want from me...
it's incredible how much i worry for what ill do, work. i need money. but then i act on it, and find enough to survive. survive. not really i have a roof, steal enough old clothes to dress up like january all year long. but truly i wanna sleep in sweat, half naked and smoke cigarettes to the twilight of this city ... it's a fact , i smoke too much, and i truly like it. i don't feel sick, i am sick of way more then that. cigarettes are fine, just just fine . soone i will be returning to Montreal the real beloved, for fun and unfinish fun ... then fucking return here . i am in a better living situation here , but i am far from convinced.
of course i should be diving through all of the past , in words and more, but i am not in the mood. i am always in th emood for writing more. more ccrap and elaborate my brain in typo.
i like algorythm if it will save my career .. what career, the pirate one, the one where you shall care less about the rules.

i should think about legit, say j. but now i think of making it through the grey, i love silver, but lately the greys are ugly as fuck .

sur ce je vous souhaite la plus belles des soirees.

the days are no longer bright .. fall for me .. .

sisi i could be talking to the night , i could beg her to fall on me , be my lover .
and i listen to the song that always reminds me what should be my true evil spirit when i choose to pray ... and i know how ... to play .. but i will beg no one .. i want people to tell me , not only a fucking casual boring platonic story ... i want more thne that .. sorry if you cannot tell, i also like to whisper, but i am awake , certainly not because of good greens , let say i havn't visited my lucky charming friends that usually feed the tramp so good... shame on me .. instead i spend a lot of time making moves alone, and alone i truly care some , only i have serial tendencies to breathe in and only deep into my head which only respond by my heart. so the cramps in my stomach or my knee in pain are something to think of later .. if later really le mal persiste ..
but i dont live all in my self today .. i am in harmony with only my desires, and they contradict health all over thy self..
i am sitting carefully makig almost no noize into my dear old lady . but she is younger then me, in silence but i type so hard , i am molesting the keyboard really , sorry they are playing p.j.harvey .. and scotch, dear scotch-whyskey st-trinity i adore you.. but sometimes, lately you havn't been enough to me ... more... i am a starving child, hungry eyes, and mon coeur s'en est remis des fissures de son passe , certaines d'entr'elle ..

but right now let me be supersticious about the day and the next day , following le passe ..
i can feel it , love like une fiole qui depose tout doucement un poison, a perfcet drug , truth is barely there , the only kind of drop to fall on my toungue and to draw me inside like color perfect red and silver i beg it for ... but i know you will forget , maybe only a while in the distances how it felt really whe you were just there, right next there .. in the desert in the city with me ... when the skies were greens emerald and i saw winter i hate it now changing into calm and snow flakes falling slowly .... the way rough kids move when they are in caging bed, captivity by choice. only i don't really know if it so easy but i know all arround me there is shit, and more shit to crawl , try to into my life... i could definitely pay my bills or at least get nervous for real about it.. about this and that .. even about the fact that i will in more then 24 hours be in need to ask myself how truly will i feed my belly .... but that's all good i do better in nervous diet .. last year or so i lost so much so fast eating still 99 cents's montreal's finest pizza. but there was so much in my mind and no more space for the rest ...

ce soir , i get 3 words in a row, alligner tout bonnement , and i know it's not easy to say , and it's not easy to get out what for a second you hope and the ones aftre you feel it will die, it will run , it will be wrong even if you deserve it right , for once .. not less intense i would never say such things, but crazy can be smooth if given and take me... the way you want it .. i want nothing but no one of the all no other. body .. .. i want your eyes to be there just in front of me .. one more time ... you can try to blow in fear or hope because love is a sharpened feeling , but i said it before i will be the blade that don't cut ... but release comes ..
i know it does.

c'est le vide qui me fait peur. but i cannot fear for ever..
not only the past told me , not only words but enough to drive me crazy ..
patience de mise .. but it's hard to train wild species into turtle moving .. i run free..
today it felt sad but free

z.... now ..

ok. so what about confusion... ici je me comprends, d'ans l'etat du chaos je me suis trouvee choyee... and a week ago i left this city, to my beloved montreal, and there it fell all over me .
but in the end i came back.. and there it is .. i am not the only monzzzzstarszz to be part
of la decadance de ces etres en attente de mon souffle, le printemps.....et oui on l'aurai bien cru ..
et puis quoi encore, je suis tout a vous mes dasme mes .. . . .
et .. gentleman , have you ever seen the colors are silver when i lay my toungue over ....
the canvas ...
toujours et encore cette couleur . i am back in to town.
i am back in to town . . i am to be black in town .
i will stay if project i lay upon my way , i will stay if stories are told to be truth..

i have serious unfinished business with my old love of A city ..
it doesn't matter. i shall crawl all over you .. t..o.r.o..n..t.o..o....oups! what
you have not a single clue yet so far of what i kan do...
reunir les especes en voies d'extinctions. and then you look arround ,
well i look arround for you , but i will get back into m.are... the sea inside me .,.
f.r.e.a.k.s..like the type of chlorophyle water you fall right in, and take a good spin. o swim .
i am not the one to show you the way .. i do know how to pray.
i want people to dress up in a map.... quest .... i could go for warrior, pirates, or hooooligans, it doesn't matter to me anymore, i just don't like to be riding for something alone , all alone ... i'd rather crawl my wholesome breakfast of the champions. and we'll see ..
but i am alive .. and so are you ... alive.. shall means aware to the Kore ........
i could have stayed in a city where it feels like i have slowly walked all over it's graves. but instead i am to redefine my prints, in fresh silver side .. o walk walk walk all over the.

t o bring you my love...

ok.. so shall i write . more then i could . i just did . but the big technological monster ate my words once again .. i've seen that before.. words

from la creme de la creme.

Le Crépuscule du soir

Voici le soir charmant, ami du criminel;
II vient comme un complice, à pas de loup; le ciel
Se ferme lentement comme une grande alcôve,
Et l'homme impatient se change en bête fauve.

Ô soir, aimable soir, désiré par celui
Dont les bras, sans mentir, peuvent dire: Aujourd'hui
Nous avons travaillé! — C'est le soir qui soulage
Les esprits que dévore une douleur sauvage,
Le savant obstiné dont le front s'alourdit,
Et l'ouvrier courbé qui regagne son lit.
Cependant des démons malsains dans l'atmosphère
S'éveillent lourdement, comme des gens d'affaire,
Et cognent en volant les volets et l'auvent.
À travers les lueurs que tourmente le vent
La Prostitution s'allume dans les rues;
Comme une fourmilière elle ouvre ses issues;
Partout elle se fraye un occulte chemin,
Ainsi que l'ennemi qui tente un coup de main;
Elle remue au sein de la cité de fange
Comme un ver qui dérobe à l'Homme ce qu'il mange.
On entend çà et là les cuisines siffler,
Les théâtres glapir, les orchestres ronfler;
Les tables d'hôte, dont le jeu fait les délices,
S'emplissent de catins et d'escrocs, leurs complices,
Et les voleurs, qui n'ont ni trêve ni merci,
Vont bientôt commencer leur travail, eux aussi,
Et forcer doucement les portes et les caisses
Pour vivre quelques jours et vêtir leurs maîtresses.

Recueille-toi, mon âme, en ce grave moment,
Et ferme ton oreille à ce rugissement.
C'est l'heure où les douleurs des malades s'aigrissent!
La sombre Nuit les prend à la gorge; ils finissent
Leur destinée et vont vers le gouffre commun;
L'hôpital se remplit de leurs soupirs. — Plus d'un
Ne viendra plus chercher la soupe parfumée,
Au coin du feu, le soir, auprès d'une âme aimée.

Encore la plupart n'ont-ils jamais connu
La douceur du foyer et n'ont jamais vécu!

— Charles Baudelaire

Twilight

Behold the sweet evening, friend of the criminal;
It comes like an accomplice, stealthily; the sky
Closes slowly like an immense alcove,
And impatient man turns into a beast of prey.
O evening, kind evening, desired by him
Whose arms can say, without lying: "Today
We labored!" — It is the evening that comforts
Those minds that are consumed by a savage sorrow,
The obstinate scholar whose head bends with fatigue
And the bowed laborer who returns to his bed.

Meanwhile in the atmosphere malefic demons
Awaken sluggishly, like businessmen,
And take flight, bumping against porch roofs and shutters.
Among the gas flames worried by the wind
Prostitution catches alight in the streets;
Like an ant-hill she lets her workers out;
Everywhere she blazes a secret path,
Like an enemy who plans a surprise attack;
She moves in the heart of the city of mire
Like a worm that steals from Man what he eats.
Here and there one hears food sizzle in the kitchens,
The theaters yell, the orchestras moan;

The gambling dens, where games of chance delight,
Fill up with whores and cardsharps, their accomplices;
The burglars, who know neither respite nor mercy,
Are soon going to begin their work, they also,
And quietly force open cash-boxes and doors
To enjoy life awhile and dress their mistresses.

Meditate, O my soul, in this solemn moment,
And close your ears to this uproar;
It is now that the pains of the sick grow sharper!
Somber Night grabs them by the throat; they reach the end
Of their destinies and go to the common pit;
The hospitals are filled with their sighs. — More than one
Will come no more to get his fragrant soup
By the fireside, in the evening, with a loved one.

However, most of them have never known
The sweetness of a home, have never lived!

— William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954)

so here i am .. should be writing and long goes the nights i have been riding for a while.

i could have rode back to mi casa but there is no points . for now. i can hide my whole some at Jack's son. and feed me lychee tea all i need for now . i had a crazy day but i like it that way
running is starting to become an international sportz if only i can do it straight to the kore. .

so here i am in a new city. but i have kept the whole of me , seriously. i need to see darker but in the daylight. a good friend of mine told me i needed to find melancholy into someone's eyes. and i found myself getting allergic to all of those who don't know yet what la dramatique est..

et voici vers ou je veut allez ...

seriously o so soon ... more words and details to come sur mon attentat a l'art del amore.

Commedia dell'arte

Commedia dell'arte (Italian: "play of professional artists" also interpreted as "comedy of humors"), also known as Extemporal Comedy, was a popular form of improvisational theater which began in Italy in the 15th century (1400s) and maintained its popularity through to the 18th century (1700s), although it is still performed today. All of their performances were outside with few props, unscripted and were free to watch, funded by donations. In a troupe there were 10 people: 7 men and 3 women. Outside Italy, it was also known as "Italian Comedy".

The performances were improvised around a repertory of stock conventional situations: adultery, jealousy, old age, love, some of which can be traced in the Roman comedies of Plautus and Terence, which are themselves translations of lost Greek comedies of the fourth century BCE. These characters included the ancestors of the modern clown. The dialogue and action could easily be made topical and adjusted to satirize local scandals, current events, or regional tastes, mixed with ancient jokes and punchlines. Characters were identified by costume, masks, and even props, such as the slapstick. Lazzi and Conchetti are also used.

The classic, traditional plot is that the innamorati are in love and wish to be married, but one vecchio (elder) or several elders, vecchi, are preventing this from happening, and so they must ask one or more zanni for help. Typically it ends happily with the marriage of the innamorati and forgiveness all around for any wrongdoings. There are countless variations on this story, as well as many that diverge completely from the structure, such as a well-known story about Arlecchino becoming mysteriously pregnant, or the Punch and Judy scenario.

ok.... so you see. la comedia del art e the game i dream 2 plAy ..

et o au revoir.... marijo St-amour

les mots naissent de ma maison. dans ma tete.

Dear turtle, it feels almost weird to write computerize, now, but i do read your words in a peaceful way. It's 3 ;38 in the am , and i am sitting at shawnda's desk, everybody is kind of asleep , i miss this insomnia's rage drooling into my head, right now i will end up writing you truths therefore i have no time really to think ahead of what shall i say . First you need to know , i do write also being scared of betrayed, of being fucked over and up and down.. but snakes. Seriously . I have been giving you words i shall admit i wanted to charm you. Not in a ride none of us cant afford. Because i know and you also probably know i also... should have been dead a many times before today .. but i wanna live . To the core.. why . Because it's all there is to do . But all that holds a lot more then we'll ever know . Life is love . And you already know there is struggles in every battle for life therefore love.

here goes your words. .. .

what is fear and can life be with out?

No ... you see , i shall lay down some of my inner tought on that. I have fear of being alone , when i was a kid someone gave me a play card with the drawing of a joker on it , and the card told me i never had to be alone. And this person ran in life by my side. See we are warriors from lands so close but we have eye's color's struggle in different ways . But like railways i believe they meet some how. I am so scared of leaving so far again, alone, i've dreamt of someone who would look into my eyes and heart , in whispers telling me we would go where no one knows , where sun shines , where my mother the ocean

rages inside it's own waves . . .

I do not believe that life would be life with out fear… but what is our fear? Is it that we fear death shame or life of loneliness?i will ramble my way right here. Fear . Are. And i too fear . Death sometimes when i think of how my mother left me, shame i want to show you how to crush it honestly in the space behind your eyes . . where sometimes we believe only the color black lays, but you need to know in darkness i saw more lights then in a lot of sunny days i have been riding this city . So much . So far . I have pushed down my limits back and forth like a wolf you are right even the snakes you adore could never catch me.

And even tonight i come back, the days have changed , but the times are still for us to define. This is where you need to further dive like you would do in a lake full of roads. See my friend, i am getting smoother then i should, i hate it with a smile when you call me friend, because i do not know what the w.o.r.d.s. Means to you . Yet . For me . I love . The love will expand and breathe in the day , and i have stopped to worry about O where will my love go . I do not know. But i have been born with this faith like blood that crawls the way i fantasize my hands all over your skin. Vessels in style they raddle inside and i shall stay innocent in the way i walk my own self to the gate where someone could ever tell you they alas will walk the roads and gravels without you. I am a cancer not only in an emotional way. More like i am steel stud solids in the way i protect my beloved friends . Crabs are

.	to move sideways, diagonally, or obliquely, esp. with short, abrupt bursts of speed; scutles

15.	catch a crab, to make a faulty stroke in rowing, so that the oar strikes the water forcibly on the backstroke.

So many people and I am so curious as to what people fear the most…

what i fear the most i s.. lost .... as much as i know you have to sometimes loose to gain ... i have lost so much loved ones , family, friends, lover, .... remember , maybe you know this feeling of loosing your own self, like this song i adore , loosing my religion. Well let me tell you i have lost enough already and i will always remember my friend pirate's words. When we loose one of us , we loose a part of us . And this is one truth you indeed probably went through back drops before . For .

Because this law reside in trust . Tonight i walked in a room full of my friends, and she was the one never we are drunk enough to forget who will stay , who stayed before, the ones that have left us all alone . And you never forget such things . And you grow up fast like a mother fucker you become stranger to your own self . IF .... si seulement .. on pouvait se suivre a la chaine comme les railles qui resiste encore et encore. For ever. .

you do . Maybe remember have i ever told you my life i chosen a long time ago to make it into a ...

P.L.A.Y.

play .. as a game.. you win and you loose .. but the show must go on ... thats why there is an animal inside me for every emotion i carry .. a turtle for the days i am not so sure off. And a terrible black panther for the ones i crave to devore.. and a killer whale for when i need to fuck off this city in style and move along the ocean .. for a while . For ..

inhale exhale.

And a cat for the city i can see through , and the lust in me when i wanna touch you , in the distances i am melting , because i know there is more for me to let go..go go gogo gogo go where no one know.

and what .. there you go . Le meilleur de moi-meme. That's what they say .. hit me with your best shot.

And i have met too many people to spare me. I am some kind of a woman, and a boy and a pirate, and a ninja when i find enough concentration to do so .

But i have lost before and gain some more,.. and i know i am no immortal baby there somedays a friend a long time ago made me listen to this song ; there is a vampire moon. Tonight . Scales. And i have forgotten the left over . But i need the whales . I mean the waves people i let them trace on me . I still do ... but honestly. f.e.a.r. i train them to quite help me . lick me .. i have hopes .

And i hope someone will be gentle and raw, and will forget a bit about tomorrows. And acknowledge we are not always here to stay . So many times i saw possibilities , i felt the dreams coming to me in proses so real i felt it in my skin .. but it turns out to be a disease or a .. another dreams . Dreamz .

They comes to me in music....

crazyyyyyyyyyyyyou wanna read me .. i am listening to Roxanne , this song like tango it plays in the moulin rouge. Tonight as an hystery( history) i tought i could re-write reality of the mile-end-rouge..

o lord .. i should keep that for when i throw away all i did so say .. in times when i lived here..

Montreal. I adore you . Even tonight .. i have not written like that in a long long time ...... because i know in the morning i will be walking along the railways ..... addictions or not ... .i will be true ... and it's absolutely ALL i care for...

the world outside can be the lie you wanted to forget about but no ... i shall stick to my new religion.

Tattoo on the skin. Scars you deserve to feel my friend . For the day maybe you'll want to touch me . No sex. Tracing our history in fine lines all along the body. Le corps. The one to carry . . i will be stable in the way i will stay . It takes me more sometimes to run away , i have forgot that i should fear being lost , or left . Behind . Even when i was running ahead of a time . 1645 the ages are to be re-define . . i have thrown up my fear , and now i am on a new diet .. called hopes ..

i hope you will let me take you ... o ... only with permissions i do these things . I write so confident. But i want you to take me away . Far .. further .. remember. The roller coaster that goes in a lane. Lines,,,,

l.i.v.e.f.o.r.w.a.r.d.s..t.h.e.d.a.y.s.............

o and also just because i am writing when some could assume i should be sleeping . No ones tells me when to sleep .. only .. my mind. My heart will say so sweet cuz i win .. this . I know .. my heart can let me know inside my brains when it's time to shut up ...

so someone asked me so gently what was ... my friend what is your greatest fear?

f/ea/r/ fear . More of loneliness. Because i know how to write ...

reality , a prison which i can only escape by writing ( anais nin )

you are right . I fear a lot . Actually more .. if i would to enumerate those worries.

Work, house, food, cigarettes and ran me a lullaby .. but all these are details...

details .. les details que je m'en fou . J'en suis a ce point . Tournant where i fear .. more like i care ..

for will i ever leave to travel with someone to ride along with m e. more company then the voices i dearly carry . I fear .... we do .and you . you know it .. but ...

there is suffering and lost .. and tralalalallalaaaaalala.. but i can spend the days thinking about it .. or i can just try .. a little harder to be brave ..

brave. —Synonyms 1. bold, intrepid, daring, dauntless, heroic. Brave, courageous, valiant, fearless, gallant refer to confident bearing in the face of difficulties or dangers. Brave is the most comprehensive: it is especially used of that confident fortitude or daring that actively faces and endures anything threatening. Courageous implies a higher or nobler kind of bravery, esp. as resulting from an inborn quality of mind or spirit that faces or endures perils or difficulties without fear and even with enthusiasm. Valiant implies a correspondence between an inner courageousness and external deeds, particularly of physical strength or endurance. Fearless implies unflinching spirit and coolness in the face of danger. Gallant implies a chivalrous, impetuous, or dashing bravery.

someone once told me i was not completely looking, running , searching, craving , for only love that it matters .. but for peace ..

courage .. .you need to walk through most of all you have not even faced yet ..

be brave.. and i will ... no matter what ...

why ! Because when i tell you i want to keep alive the child inside of me .. i think of ages before you and i . and your ancester were to maybe be born ...

fellini; there is no need of reality .

my name is Marijo St-Amour ( still ) awake ... i will follow the waves inside me ... and they are digne de pirates, de chevallerie, et romanesque... bring me .. feed me ,.. burlesqe ...

and i will pray .. howl at the moon .,.. for more .. ...

show me love . And i'll show you life . ( fuck even that i feel like i should maybe explain .. )

not the kind of love we tought we knew.. we were tought ..

l'amour est a reinventer.

o and don't you dare to tell me i am a believer ...

i only listen .. to my heart .. because .. he heart beats my days and i cannot . Run away .

And i use to carry a silver coeur, but i will stand at the border . And if they shoot me through . Then i will only be more of an open heart to suck in my own destiny. The blood to fall is my only illusion.

ma vie , c'est elle qui m'a choisie.

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