h/e 161 march

Black & white sunlight | Walked out of an important meeting yesterday (not all meetings are important) to find that a summer-like sun had come out. Outside, contrasting with my usual pale face / rough features while sporting a tight black suit (such as one would wear under gray skies... or in the event of a funeral), I ignored public transits and I did not hail a cab -- I just drifted through the city. Time was of the essence due to an ever urgent workload awaiting me back home but I ignored that as well. Drifted diagonally from downtown to the plateau and I might've made it home in one long walk but the sunlight eventually won and I went hiding in a nearby subterranean refuge. Very "dramatic". I prefered taking a stroll through the city's afternoon sunlight (a setting I am ill at ease in) rather than returning to the immediacy that is the work related problems at hand (I know, who wouldn't). But the walk was subconscious; it was my body taking an urgent breather despite the malaise I felt from the scenery and the numerous issues fucking up my head. Came sundown, a second outing with friends I had barely seen during the cold of the past winter. Had to be out in the nighttime to compensate. I was calm and it felt like march again.

h/e 160 march

Rants vs overheard | Parlons politique... non, parlons donc k*rpan à place -- We allow "kids' to carry around knives in school and you want me to debate politics? Pardon me while I go masturbate in front of a mirror (much more of a profound experience) / We love Nightlife magazine (I do, especially for its design and format) but truthfully we take it so that we can play "spot the whore" in the picture section at the end of the mag, a genuine educational fun-for-the-whole-family experience (and I mean that, your kids should see what they should avoid later in life, just sayin'... and no, this isn't a "not-in-the-hype" jealous revolt, a delicate mocking-issue I've previously addressed here by the way -- I do prefer the mirror in this instance also, not "mirror" the newspaper, the mirror with which I observe myself masturbating) / At a table next to us (listen, you speak loud enough in a restaurant, it becomes everybody's business), a guy (almost said "dude" here) states that he has developped insomnia for a couple of days to the immediate shock of his party... as if he had contracted a fatal disease. The drama unfolded for the duration of the (loud) conversation and while I do agree that insomnia is a terrible state, there isn't a single person in my entourage that doesn't suffer from a lack of healthy slumber. It's unfortunate but it's also menial. Now I'm not taking away any importance from the guy/dude's problem, all it did was give me insight into a world very different from my own. And that was very interesting (though in the back of my head, honestly... I called him a pussy).

h/e 159 march

"Insert black & white photography, day and night amateur shots of Little Italy and/or the view from the appartment, affix a sometimes-vague sometimes-direct franco/anglo rant sans paragraph and voilà... another husk/essem March entry" | I confess, it has been plutôt redundant here lately and I wouldn't be at all surprised if, at first glance, you would think your rss feeds had erroneously led you back here -- but make no mistake, this second attempt at a series is quite 1. intentional 2. one-dimensional (give or take certain slip ups) 3. an autumn-in-spring diary written in one (gray) palette & last but not least 4. soon to change -- forever. So, allow me to savor it (share it) for a little while (though of course, shown here is really just a tiny fraction of what it really represents... better than nothing). And just like a sign of the times (add the weather in there) with the due date rapidly/slowly coming about (which I swear, still does not feel real), I live in surreal excess with borrowed money/time/emotion and I drink/ignore/create as if I'll never be able/available/allowed to when that day comes. [sign of the times = bullshit, by the way] Flooding from the ceiling above where, you know as well as I do, is no longer occupied... but wouldn't you know it, I was there last night to witness (in advance) our (their) home's eventual faith. What's done is done and though it's hard to admit; it was "done" right. Not a metaphor, just a nod to 101/200: the anchor rose but we're standing still.

h/e 158 march

The snow came back and ruined the scenery. It's just a brief return. Admittedly, last week's weather had a huge impact on me; from my work (and newfound creativity) to my social life and (mostly) everything in between. It really takes precious little to get me going sometimes -- or to interrupt me, for that matter, as I'm struggling this morning... It has nothing to do with the general Monday blues or anything to that effect; it's (one more time) the harsh white light(s). So the picture above serves as a reminder of days to come (melt damn you, melt so that I may be comfortable). A few nights ago, we were sending photos back and forth to a friend, it was a nice exchange of different souvenirs. In the process we went digging back to the 2005 folders and we were amazed to see how much I had aged (physically) in such a short time lapse. An odd silence followed and we moved on to slightly more recent collections. No fowl, it was just a bit striking.

h/e 157 march

14.03.07 Walking back home (through the perfect fog) from the exquisite Casa Cacciatore barely a street corner away ~ can't recall the exact name of the bottle... I do recall that it was out of my league but it did its job remarkably well.

h/e 156 march

Suite, disons.../ 10.2 / It's uncommon, rarely spoken aloud and I get a thrill out of it -- refering to some of the objectionable content below (depending on your point of view) which does appear as sacred cows from time to time -- not for shock value, that requires much less of a thought process mais surtout parceque ça m'entour. Provenant d'une personne proche, c'est différent (et j'apprécie). Donc justement, la valeur des commentaires externes et bla bla bla. I have other concerns. Certains préjugés/générisalisations etc. j'aime supporter l'opinion minoritaire (lorsque ça s'applique) / support the underdog / For instance, you're single = you're miserable... that's kinda funny especially seeing as how I've met plenty of miserable couples. Save yourself. Mais dans certains contextes, hors de mon safe zone, à l'extérieur de tout ce qui compte vraiment -- c'est plaisant voir une face devenir éblouie quand une simple réflexion empêcherait n'importequel décomfort. Rapid auto-defense response from the ill-yet-pleasant mind of the "author". I just can't believe I've used the word "panoplie". The point (very thin one here) is that this is a nice tool for one to type words with that most do think (but not necessarily believe) and would never dare divulge. And I've never been one of those in person nor will I be on a weblog. That just makes it all the more interesting, no? Well alright, you have the right to remain uncompelling. See you outside.

h/e 155 march

Dixième entrée sur h/e en mars, en faux canadien-français (jouale versus intègrité versus prétention) à ma manière, bien que je la respecte énormément, elle n'est pas naturelle en écrit (ni dans ma tête) / 13 mars 2007, aucune relation, faible pluie, temps gris, idéal avec un petit veston, j'adore / c'est fait pour moi, c'est mon canvas de choix / ça risque d'être difficile de me déscendre aujourd'hui parmi mes (fausses) couleurs / drôles de discussions à propos de différentes facades (littéralement drôles) / facade d'une saloppe élite qui n'oserait jamais avouer publiquement que c'est ma face (mon attention, mes dents) qu'elle aimerait avoir entre ses jambes en fin de soirée en lieu d'une panoplie de clônes -- mais elle me le fait savoir... en secret (ça m'a pris du temps à le réaliser, et c'est fréquent)... c'est pratiquement (mais peu) flatteur mais je préfère me t*ucher seul / saloppe en publique rarement saloppe au lit / trop cru? ou trop vrai? / facade d'un "gangsta" trop vieux pour jouer le rôle, prétend vivre une vie dangeureuse (qu'il s'est malheureusement imposé), qui marche avec le bling bling d'un pas sacadé comme s'il aurait été attaqué/tiré auparavant mais c'est peu probable / un vrai dangeureux fait son possible pour ne pas l'afficher / facade d'une paire de bottines qui font du bruit tel que feraient une paire de talon-hauts / inconfortable et inutile / qui sont les vrais intouchables? svp ne pas répondre / faut rire, en attendant / c'est une belle journée, je lance du positif spécifiquement à mademoiselle.

h/e 154 march

No comment.

h/e 153 march

So the box came out of the closet (the box isn't gay, it's just... a box full of photos... in the closet) and the kitty immediately jumped on top of it as if to say "don't open it, you stupid bastard!" but the kitty just loves boxes. Who can blame him? I went back to the ol' souvenir box looking for a before picture of our backyard and porch so that I could better compare it to the view of the brick wall we have today (actually, it ressembles this shot but this one was taken during the invasion so you can't see the beautiful yard/garden we had access to but it does show the view from the kitchen window... which, again, is now blocked by bricks). The box contains most of my developped photos since late 1995 so it's chock-full of moments and people I'd rather not think about. I gave up on the search about a quarter way through -- fuck it, the kitty was right. It sucks 'cause it is also full of moments and people I do want to remember but the negative outweighs it. That's how I roll. There isn't anything to "cure" here, it would require a needless effort to correct it when it could simply be thrown back into the closet. It isn't a burden. Keep that energy for the problems at hand, I say. The box ends somewhere in 2004 (they are now in digital form, of course), the numbers were perfect but it was an awful year; I went from considering an engagement proposal to having the most difficult drinking period of my life. I'd consider those two to be very distant extremes, wouldn't you? It's kind of a good thing that I wasn't blogging back then I guess... I have a hard time recognizing myself within emotional highs (a psych analysis would compare this to my sentiments towards gray days). So a trip in the box is similar to a trip back in the past and I'd rather not live there. Onward to new mistakes (sorry for the pessimism). I did however have a hard time with the drink sometime last year, I know that I don't have a "problem" per say but I'm aware the fine line exists (there is more on h/e about "drinking and hypocrisy" right here). It remains a personal victory to be able to have a non-problematic drink with friends and also being able to honestly enjoy it. But I tell ya, when in times of panic, distress and the occasional insomnia; that fucking liquor will make the problems disapear (though temporarily) and it'll knock you back to slumberland likity split if necessary. F-you, it works. It does! It's bad, it has concequences but on that oh so problematic moment -- it does the job. It's very difficult to ignore this FACT. And I underestimated its powerful effects last year when I drunkenly awoke and was paralyzed by tremendous pains as if some kind of steel bar had punctured my chest. I passed back out to sleep thinking I was dying and that I wasn't strong enough to alert anyone to my pains. Yo, It's a gamble. I don't recommend it, but I'm not gonna lie about it either. Now the box has to go back to the top of the garde-robe where, ironically, it was once a hidden spot to stash alcohol bottles. Judging by the times et al, I'm fairly certain that I'll be able to re-visit the box sometime in 2009 where most of its ghosts will no longer have any effect on me whatsoever as it is already surprisingly fading (aside for the frames of those we lost along the years, time hardly heals these -- nor would I want to forget).

h/e 152 march

Amidst counter-creativity (obviously, as I hate change); the Bob Ludwig version, as promised: listen here. [ dramatic by Le Soir ]

150 was really 149

I just made some really exquisite tea and I'm ecstatic about it (thank you thesaurus) -- attempting to better appreciate the little things (I also say this to women this all the freaking time). Lighting up with this sweet little plain black zippo, it's awesome -- I love it (see? I'm losing it). A quick note, speaking of little things, I'm well aware that I'm off the grammatical rule with the "end-sentence dots" on the exterior of most parentheses on h/e (in my own french-canadian way) but it just doesn't look good, ok? Same with using italics for emphasis. Counting back up to the 200th post next August; we'll see what the hell happens after that. Mmm tea!

h/e 150 march

Never safe / Soon to change.

h/e 149 march

So plaintive, I know. It's been like this for a long time now. From the music/art that I make to the clothes I wear and everything in between. Flesh out the negative. What is commonly ignored though is that the conduit really works. I don't wallow in it. You can talk to me. It's out, it's done with. Most of time. I guess when it can't be leaked out, that's when things take a turn for the worse. Innoncent enough an observation, no? But that's what you should see if you take a few steps back.

h/e 147 march

You might ask yourself why such a sticker would be stamped on this advertisement, it struck me (as these things usually do), it was in essence a woman showcasing jewellery. Someone decides to label it sexist. Not only does it not strike me as being sexist but I just don't care -- I do not give a fuck (I admit though, I find it highly amusing) -- there are bigger fish to fry. Stuck right on the facade of the ad area, for city officials to remove on a later date, probably not proposed the brightest of the movement, they can't be held accountable -- or can they? Having made stickers and all. But no, that's not the point. If it can be decided "for me" that this is in fact "sexist" then I can retaliate by saying that it is a "warning for individuals with a lesser intellect". The movement itself provides help for abused women and does much for women's rights, and I'm all for that. The sticker, unfortunately, brings down its integrity a few notches. This type of activity ties in with anti-advertising activists in the fight against "buying shit we don't need while also wasting our planet's ressources" which is a just cause but I appologize, I need no anti-advertisement advertisements about such things, I'm sorry that you can't control your own financial choices but I'd suggest redirecting your efforts on the homeless guy sleeping underneath the ads in question. Uh oh, have I gone extremist? Oh no, you-are-right -- I have seen the light! Please steer me clear of printed posters and television commercials that feature shit I shouldn't buy in the hopes that I'll eventually create and manage my own choices (because apparently no one can?). Help Help. Ahem. Please, spare me your fucking slogans, I'll spare you mine -- but since you asked so nicely, click here to view a glimpse of the future in awareness and I know some of your feeble brains will misinterpret the ideas shown therein, but surely there are sexist-advertisement help groups out there somewhere -- with free coffee and *gasp brochures! All in good fun.

h/e 146 march

There were no fireworks / I explicitly asked not to make it into a big thing and that might've been a bad idea. I really don't know. Although it was casually celebrated by those close to me, it came and gone and that was it. I'm pointing it out because it has been very peculiar (to say the least). The weather took its toll on my family, I'm not one to trivialize one's issues (to some extent) but I have a hard time relating. There were loud footsteps above us when there should've been none (two down / two to go on the eviction scorecard). I found the strenght to help my friend during her family's loss but she has full time year-round strenghts to help whatever ails me at any given moment (which is often). You witness one of Montreal's uglier faces when taking a bus ride / it is also so rare to be greeted by a kind STM employee that it is not only noticed but later discussed as an exceptional occurence. Chapeau. And last night I lost it, big time. Holding it back for several months will ensure this. I can't dwell on it otherwise I might end up in a hospital bed. Better to compare, brings back focus. Get up, get back to work.