100/100

100 posts in exactly one year and the alcohol still hits. There are vices in most of our family histories, perhaps especially in french-canadian descendants. Much of this is due to the Catholic Church here in Quebec. Much of this is their fault, not all of it, but I take sincere pleasure in calling them out on their atrocities. I have my own personal beliefs (very limited ones at that) but the instant an organization will profit from your faith -- it becomes a business. There's no debate, it's a business. Your faith should not cost you money. My parents are strong, my parents are the exception. They've overcome more trials than I'll ever have to face. I do not want to imagine the state I would've been in today had it not been for their love and their lessons. Still, a poison flows through our veins from the previous generations. I cannot blame genetics for my vice(s), nor do I, but it ads to my susceptibility. And yes, if you cave in to that notion; you inherit it. I don't... but I'm aware of the fine line and as I've mentioned numerous times on this blog, I won't be hypocritical about it. It's an escape that has major long term concequences but... it is an escape. I have found it to be more difficult to endure complete sobriety than to occasionally indulge and juggle the fine line. It's a weak excuse, I know, but I'm being truthful.

[ malaise / enter the liar on the opposite stage / while I lay low / I deal with the pressure while he deals with the crowd / so why am I here / a sexual deviant insists on a seperate affair / while I remain faithful / mathematic rain, foreign but fine / so why am I here / spreading lies across the stage ] ~ An « alice in wonderland » themed celebration / split personality / red/green/grays / an english garden and an escape from the crowd / a closing event/moment that can send you in two different directions.

[ TUESDAY, AUGUST 16, 2005 Montreal [01] | Sous les roches (les vielles roches) d'un jardin se cache des insectes, des déchets | WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 17, 2005 it's august | Autumn's always been more of lover's season... | MONDAY, AUGUST 22, 2005 sans soucis et juste pour moi | It's what I've dubbed safe art. You'll have to sit down and read this phrase very carefully now, because, you don't read it often enough -- it's the kind of art that I enjoy | TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 06, 2005 see you in september | Not taking the responsible route -- just driving | FRIDAY, OCTOBER 21, 2005 w42 | I am envious of those who can move on faster, those who can brush aside the past like it was nothing. More power to them but there's evidently something unhealthy about constant change | WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 09, 2005 pygmalion, seven weeks to go | 39 celebrates 23 (or the other way around), 31 marks the spot, a shitload of shots are relevant to 02 and will end with 51, 25 was horrible, 07 was my heart, 30 made me strong... | SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 2005 201105 | So the opposite would be to venture where I have no desire to be, am I right? Either paths will hurt, though one of them at least is all new to me | MONDAY, DECEMBER 05, 2005 follow the white tie | I like to be a walking piece of trash. A bad human being, creating beautiful art | WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 21, 2005 211205 | Echoes though, as much as I've tried this year -- echoes can still be heard | SATURDAY, JANUARY 07, 2006 get off on non-smoking | Why don't you go and concentrate your efforts on the homeless people freezing their asses off in that alley right behind you... doesn't that seem a bit more important and urgent than... a fucking POSTER? | THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 02, 2006 oh imminent collapse | My school of thought used to be that negativity results in negativity and that positivity results in a "chance". Really, with both ends of the candle getting oh so close -- why not just go mad and give in for a little while | TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 07, 2006 hail hail the birthday boy | A call from years back, rings like it was yesterday (rang twice). I wasn't able to lie, no point in doing so. "How are you?" - "I'm... terrible, and you?" | WEDNESDAY, MARCH 15, 2006 husk /essem post number sixty | well, that's change isn't it? Have you ever noticed that a "nice change" is just that -- a nice change; change is so commonly bad that when it is good, it's attatched to an adjective. Nice change. A rare occurence then | FRIDAY, MARCH 24, 2006 soft light | Most people find it depressing and I wonder how "neutrality" can be a downer -- you make it your own. It's such an insulting label... | SATURDAY, APRIL 01, 2006 Montreal [03] | that shouldn't be your sole lifestyle, you know? On blank stares of idiotic women, looking down on me while I have no desire to set the record straight | MONDAY, APRIL 10, 2006 -- | I'll remember my mid-twenties as the time when my body couldn't take as much abuse as it used to | TUESDAY, APRIL 25, 2006 according to | Don't make me you, I don't want to be you, but I do love you | MONDAY, MAY 01, 2006 mirror ball | It isn't harmful nostalgia or anything, but it goes a long way to show how quickly things change given enough time | WEDNESDAY, MAY 03, 2006 cellulaire seconde main | This commercial is fucking with smokers AND non-smokers alike, do I really need to lay it out for you? | SUNDAY, MAY 07, 2006 080506 | j'oublie comment le français écrit est loin d'être mon français parlé. L'immense contraste m'inspire aucunement, c'est loin d'être naturel, chaque phrase légèrement embellie sonne prétentieuse et sans-âme | WEDNESDAY, JUNE 14, 2006 interfere with lovers [04] | Interfere with lovers was not meant to be a specific jab; it's a common situation (in that order) that happens to the majority of lovers, and that is why they've derived from their original appearance [ref: all the 2004 writtings], because sacred bonds (good and bad) must remain personal -- and lo behold the "compromise". --- My point is that such an intense feeling, one that has a substancial power/influence of you, has a tendency to be easier (wrong word here) to channel (evidently an attempt to be rid of it) -- and had love prevailed, a brighter palette might've been possible | FRIDAY, JUNE 30, 2006 [out of season] | The ugly aging busted up smoker in black, shoulders pretending not to bear an overbearing weight of souvenirs and stress. What a wreck. I'm sure children assume I'm the personification of walking exhaustion -- I swear I'm still optimistic | WEDNESDAY, JULY 05, 2006 [uphill] | I've realized that I'm dealing with an increasing uneasiness while being subjected to strong daytime sunlight. It's an all new high in moronic self-consciousness | TUESDAY, JULY 11, 2006 [more on the July repose] | Montreal will love you only if it wants you (and can't have you) | THURSDAY, JULY 20, 2006 ville fantôme, approx | L'illusion d'urgence de la ville s'efface temporairement, tout est tellement moins imédiat... c'est facile de comprendre comment plusieurs se laissent bercer par le comfort -- mais c'est pas pour moi, j'ai pas fini ici malheureusement ]

99/100

[photo by dea] Ok, here goes... I've been in love twice. Perhaps more enthralled on one occasion than on the other, but all in all, I have to say twice. I've always considered myself to be very old-fashioned when it comes to love and relationships, I believe in the bond, the intimacy, the exclusivity and I have nothing but respect for lovers -- but I've always felt that the term is easily appointed and rarely accurate. There are books, studies and quotes that would like you to believe (or suggest the belief) that love is a result of chemical reactions and that it can only last so long while the illogical, like songs and poems, state the contrary... How curious... I would not be one to say that the heart is anything logical. The studies hold a strong argument to be sure, especially as the beginning stages of any (real) relationship generate such a rich and mysterious sentiment that rarely repeats itself throughout one's life. In all honesty, whether it be true or not, I find it to be an immoral amateurish profit-making endeavor and an easy target at that. You could easily dissect (and capitalize -- remember that) on the chemical effects of death too, though you don't hear about that too much, do you? No, instead we have books on "L'amour dure trois ans.. trois mois... trois semaines" or whatever is fashionable at the time. You can cave in to any logical explanation or you can surrender to mysterious moments of newfound love. I'd pick the latter... and for the record, I fail to understand how one would want to ruin such a pure personal celebration -- with someone else's published perceptions. Perhaps this goes hand in hand with my observation that there are lovers out there who aren't really in love, not unlike lovers who shift sporadically from one lover to another aren't worhty to bare the title. It's not only that I have no respect for cheaters and mistresses, it's that I absolutely loathe them, no exceptions. Beginning stages of relationships are indeed special, it's up to any lover to reinvent/rediscover the flame as time takes its toll on the couple -- and this is in fact true for any type of relationship, for when love is pure, everything is shared; triumphs and obstacles alike. I recall (with vivid passion) two moments of my life (a dark March long ago and a sunny July in recent years) where everything had changed, where I had become another person (a welcomed difference, though some would argue), where songs would take meanings that I had never understood prior to discovering my newfound partner, like all of your senses turned backwards as you dare (and risk) to delve into something foreign... and those glimpses remain. Were those glimpses not personal, I could elaborate further... then again, better not to relive the moment to that degree. The aftermath (if, unfortunately, there is one to be had) sends you back to where/who you were before the "transformation", with half of your soul missing (as if someone had litterally died), to carry a weight of (often) tainted souvenirs, crushed aspirations and plenty of new scars for you to work on. If the burden of an aftermath is light enough for you to effectively brush off, then you must ask yourself just powerful the relationship really was... or we could debate the semantics of one's ability to move on. I've been through this very much. When recently asked to open up and share some of the grief, I did, and it turned out to be a fatal mistake (as if the scars of the initial problem weren't already enough to manage). Live and learn. I feel that I am trully whole when in the sacred bonds of a relationship, as it reaches a secure intimacy, not as if it is a lacking element that would... define me, rather that I can exert a higher potential. As seen here, a certain amount of time has passed since my last seperation and it'll be a while before someone new can capture my interest again (to the dismay of, well, anyone who has an opinion on my life) if only because I have no desire to invest... though also because the only candidate I had in mind left my life as soon as she walked into it (I could be wrong about that, but in retrospect, it was nice to feel that side of me once more). It is a dirty uneven S**** who exists in the meantime (by meantime I mean, until I become more... stable) with various vices caught in situations where I barely have any control. Thankfully, I have my close friends and family, to whom I am not the perfect contributor, but then again, who is. The music will change once more, but not for a while please.

« Love brings such misery and pain, I know I'll never be the same » ~ Nina Simone

98/100

Have you ever read one good description of a season and its influence? I've never been able to fully capture its effects with words... but I might've come close with a collection of songs I did a few years back that revolved around the season and its imminent change -- here's "change" yet again, with an adjective. Autumn is a clichéd favorite (though no one's actual favorite), obviously as a summer's aftermath, and in it, everything dies... slowly (at times, at an alluring rate), which I used to propagate heavily until... death actually occured at one point in a past autumn (a loss I still mourn). Regardless, I still find comfort in the season, I anticipate it because, honestly, I am ill at ease in summer time, an impression of mine that I've relentlessly pointed out on this journal. August's role is a preemptive one, getting you ready for the (generally percieved) "downer" that is autumn where its gray tones (to whom I owe my increasing notoriety for years of advocation) make me feel genuinely safe. The illusion serves as camouflage for my wrecked physique and past scars, it does not pale in comparison to the remainder of the year where I (somewhat unintentionally) avoid eye-contact, when I can, as though the gaze of my dead eyes generate disapointment and disgust. There's an antique piano that calls out to me, in an old house, far far far far far from the city's harsh lights. It hums soothing notes of loneliness in basement with souvenirs of the funeral.

97/100

If only you knew how the above picture [ref: here] represents such a tragedy... the first of many violations that followed. I tread lightly when using words like "tragedies","disasters" and so forth -- we've all had our share of misfortunes, vital ones that renders trivial mishaps insignificant (even embarrassing), more so when comparisons are involved -- though perhaps considerate; there is no worse conviction. It is in no way an egotistical behavior, as much as you can feel for another person, your perceptions and feelings are exclusively your own (sounds... idiotic to "point it out"). Compassion disturbs you -- however it shouldn't erase your emotions, scales are unique. It's common knowledge, I know, I don't feel like preaching anyway but I've always been one to support the underdog (I believe you need to remember your accident scars, anyone who objects shouldn't be taken into consideration, especially in the glory that is unsolicited advice -- advocated by self-righteous mirrorless drones), there are two schools of thought on the subject -- neither of which I've found to be ideal. Carpe Diem for instance, apparently works for some... Personally? I think it's an out. You should benefit from past experiences and therein lies the fine line. For how long should you mourn a loved one? It's been my experience that the mourning, which is obviously hard to come to terms with, *can be transformed into a more postive outlook -- isn't that a better way to carry a burden? I'm not saying that it is something I've been able to adopt, but I'm willing to and that's a healthy start. I'm aware of what I've become over the past few years, it scares me, I fail to see a moment when I'll be rid of the grief, at times so... unnecessary that I wonder how strong I'll be when more significant issues will come into my life (knock on wood). I've come to accept that my fears and supertitions control me but I'm aware, I know this should (and can) change. I can no longer see the view from the photo, oui c'est loin d'être la fin du monde, but it was a precursor. What it represents is worse. I am just so so so exhausted, I never expect rewards but I know what should happen next and it scares me.

96/100

The traffic I can monitor here, (though the data is limited) in most cases, comes from search engine queries that link to several names or topics I've dropped on the page (and for the record, I haven't done it as much as I could've). Then there's a percentage that seek out photos from this blog (which is frankly odd but flattering). Last but not least, the readers -- whether they be casual visitors or frequent (incongnito) regulars, those are the statistics that surprise me, I do not promote this blog. I did some research (locally, at first) on blogs and bloggers; especially blogs that retained some anonimity all the while sharring what seemed to be honest stories and observations (like essays) and there were very few of those... or rather, there were very few I was interested in. In a few days, this blog will have 100 posts on its exact first anniversary. That was an idea of mine, in the beginning, but I must say that it "just so happened" to work out as such. Though I've eventually revealed myself to a certain extent (yeah yeah, I have to pretend this actually matters) as the months went by (by doing it in reverse, as explained here), I've managed to keep things under wraps but not under control -- I've done essays on art, grief, depression and alcohol -- putting my knowledge and discoveries to the test often contradicting myself as time went by, a result of any learning process; by sharring (semi-vague) observations, which cannot generate additional discussion (dissection) nor debate (aside from the smoking ban apparently... undeniably an easy target for ignorant morons) when one remains hidden in a husk. To those who read; allow me to be lost in thought now and then, I am a miserable person.

askdfja;sdfjas

290706, that's the date I was talking about. Every year, as if it were a (dare I say) "spiritual" experience, I manage to view the summer fireworks -- by myself, and just tune out the crowd while the skies light up. I had planned on going this year (on the aforementioned date) and I didn't. I'm not in the habit of breaking traditions but it became apparent that the last thing I needed was an added unnecessary burden. 'Cause that's what it is really; an overall sad experience. I have an endless supply of souvenirs attatched to the event, the area, the atmosphere and so on... but there's that special half hour where it all vanishes thanks to (generally beautiful) explosions in the sky. Once it's over and done with -- and yes, it does end so abruptly -- it's an exit-stage-left of grand proportions... as if nothing had transpired here. The loneliness kicks into high gear. The curtain call is a moment better shared by lovers and the date in question was an anniversary of lost love (or duplicity, call it what you will). Simply put, it would've been worse. I chose to avoid the deliberate cruelty of my annual affair, partie remise, maybe next year... it hasn't lost relevance because I regret not doing it; regardless of the concequences, efforts are (usually) rewarded. Something else will have to fill-in for it before the year ends.