h/e 184 july

Willingly distracted by all things summer.

h/e 180 july

Stress is surprisingly ever so present and real but despite a slight decrease of my own, it is still dangerously proeminent in my entourage (as it is pretty much everywhere, I suppose)-- an issue I hope to remedy now that I've been given (more of) an opportunity to help. I'd be one to let the change sink in at a natural pace but there's another sharp turn coming up fast (with plently of tempting avenues). Although many responsibilities have been lifted off my shoulders (something that I'm obviously grateful for), there is much to do in (precious) little time and it could get overwhelming fast. This is why it's all about focus and discipline here in the exile that is my temporary residence. It's not unlike couch-surfing for an entire year; you'd be anxious to find stable ground to call your own / stable ground as a starting point for all of your various endeavors. The resolve should start next month and I'm adjusting to adjusting in the meantime (dare I say a vacation of sorts? gasp!). Focus, discipline, patience, careful planning -- whatever, I'm eager (lucky) to start.

victory

/ going on July

/ june [06]

Every tenant was invited back, save for one, but she did not enjoy the place to begin with. Even those who never had official residency are leaving so to speak. Not very far though... and not for very long either. Family turns corporate, it's not unheard of. Fortunately however, no one will ever experience it as we did back then (not unless one buys out the buyers and destroys an adjacent condo building). It changed many many times but it has never been as bad as it's been during the past two years under the most drastic changes of scenery (or a loss thereof) and the constant threat(s) of an uncertain-yet-imminent eviction. Nothing quite like removing the bandage off a wound at a slow pace... thankfully, we had each other to look after one another. We haven't felt at home for quite a while and despite the upcoming career-exile, which is a welcomed temporary retreat in itself, it'll be another year before I get to remedy the situation. It isn't necessarily a sad departure and there will be some nostalgia but there are changes you can look forward to after all ( see: authority h/e 162 ). Onto new and better things, you gotta bounce back -- or you can wallow in it for the remainder of your life, which is fine by me, as long as you don't complain about a situation you choose not to rectify. Anyway, there won't be a soul on the balcony at night, right? (bring alcohol and a few pillows)

/ june [05]

/ june [04]

In a (the) wide empty living room, under (the) two chandeleers, I set up my work space for the nine remaining days at the most inopportune of times. Loud music will echo naturally within the empty space, under the dim (barely lit) lights. Preparing my own final echoes, hoping they might be hum by (the) ghosts of the past long after my departure. Thank you C & W.

/ june [03]

When we first moved in to the Piccola Italia I thought we were a bit too "north" of the actual Montreal action. Common newbie mistake. I was already a frequent visitor to the building and the neighborhood prior to moving in, but it was an escape at the time rather than being my home away from home. It took me a few years to realize it even after we finally got a space of our own in the building, sure it was familiar but I still took the area for granted and now there is nowhere else in the city I'd rather be. Fellow Montrealers, if you weren't amidst the celebrations here last night, you were definitely away from the Montreal action... but despite the festivities, I still hope to see you here when it is normally calm and charming with all its qualities and flaws.

/ june [02]

Making certain that nothing'll be taken for granted. From the northern edge of the arcs to the east, west, south and everything in between; the axis now pulling in my family other than the numerous times you may spot them on the balcony. What they deserve, is more than I can list. This morning, forced into an offensive position, the right words that were juggling inside my head from the past months and years came out as violent loaded guns, there is little left to lose but the little left is worth fighting for.

duplicity [06]

In the hour that went from May to June and more to come.

quiet nights of quiet stars

... quiet chords from my guitar | another difficult week ahead / here's my weekend pause / you know where to find us / write back to everyone / stay close to home / the peaceful outdoors of warm city nights / no time for you pessimists / it's a "see you then"; it's not an "end" / I could've stayed, I could've moved, I can come back, I can see you in London / there are six pieces, so far very unpopular and very misunderstood; it's a good sign / quick hello, out of smokes, see you then.

duplicity [05]

duplicity [04]

duplicity in subtlety | Like I said in January '07 "Let it linger, attack later" -- I spontaneously attacked this morning, maybe the most (and first) successful attempt yet. I'm on a cautious high, very close to its end but not necessarily a fulfilling end but an imposed point of no return. A few years back, I stumbled upon a set of antique black and white photographs my family took of "la nuit rouge"; the Rimouski fire of 1950. Our roots, homes, souvenirs and birth records all gone in flames. It might've given the Church more control over the younger french generations in its aftermath, or maybe not, but those that had found shelter in religious retreats soon saw its malicious duplicity. I've finally found a use for the shots as a parallel to my current life (instead of risking an homage to the actual event) done in sublety as is the interpretation of the theme itself. There was no way I was going to go the obvious route of illustrating duplicity by evidently exposing different coin sides on every art piece (ie: oh, here's a sad girl on the right and a happy one of the left -- genius). And that was one part of the struggle. Subtle deceptions as opposed to misleading behaviors. What seems to be one thing quickly turns into another. And then there's the issue of long lasting repercussions. Perhaps insignificant at first but somehow still hovering over you today. Could be age, I don't know, there just isn't a lot of people in any position to harm me anymore. Not that kind of harm anyway. It seems that duplicity in surroundings can have more of a long term effect than treason coming from any individual 'cause unless the love and trust go both ways, it's just unfortunate deceit. One other nuisance. A lover can really harm you, it's the ideal offensive but it is always remedied with time (or so you hope, and you should) 'cause ultimately you let the lover in, you've always got your share of the blame. How long can that really last? That's not the deception I fear, that's the deception I can eventually grow out of, calculate and perhaps even anticipate. Although if it did mold you into what you are today, hopefully in terms of an intense relationship that lasted years, then that doesn't fall in the same category anymore. It is no longer deception, it's just you, maybe a different you, who cares really, just go on about your day. It isn't what I fear. I fear that damn alleyway... that damn word... the object, the color, the way the sun hits the building, the souvenir you forgot, the souvenir you take for granted that comes back to haunt you no matter how trivial it may seem -- when one thing quickly turns into another and you're transposed elsewhere. They're invisible threats that you can't control. And now I have to show you what it looks like on paper.

Sick of the STM

"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." ~ h/e March 2007 | Everyone has an STM story. None of them are very positive. It's a fact that the city's not very civil, there are worse places to be sure, but we're in pretty bad shape. Some would argue that it is reflected in the overall mood of most STM employees as they're subjected to our city's collective on an endless daily basis. Whatever, we've learned to cope with it. I'm aware that I'll get the slightest attention (if any) at my local Metro booth when I (dare) purchase a pass or tickets for transportation... and that tiny bit of attention is often, if not always, very arrogant. Whatever, we've learned to cope with it. Now here's one of those fabled STM stories, please read: There was an irregular line of people where my friend takes the bus every morning. She found out that the previously scheduled bus had not shown and so obviously the next one was in a hurry to make the rounds. This sort of thing happens, it's alright. As it arrived, it was quickly boarded by the line-up and there appeared to be sufficient space for all to enter. But as my friend started boarding the bus, the driver shouted "attention" and closed the doors shut directly on my friend's foot, her wrist and her backpack leaving her trapped on the exterior of the bus. The female driver did not verify if anyone was boarding as she closed the doors knowing full well there were still plenty of people waiting in line -- she was in hurry and decided a sufficient amount of passengers had walked in. She also did not notice my friend trapped outside of the door. The bus went back on course, speeding away from the stop with my friend still stuck in/and outside of the door itself. My friend quickly managed to untangle herself from the door, freed herself from what might've been a perilous journey (as you can easily imagine). I cannot reveal any further details on the subject as this extreme act of negligence on behalf of the STM and the driver could (should) lead to further xxxxx mesures. Completely fucking intolerable. Unacceptable. This was not posted in conjunction with my friend's accord, she has no association with husk/essem, my only wish was to spread the word on this incident so that we may continue to stand-up against these assholes (with appologies to the miniscule percentage who are actually decent). Sending positive vibes to my dear friend.

april sunlight

Sunglasses block the harsh sunlight yet it also allows us to peek at the generous amount of skin you're willing to offer us (something Montreal is renowned for, like it or not). There's a fine line in public decency when it comes to showing off skin, it's something I've pointed out to a couple of girls in the subway once when my eyes caught a glimpse of their incredibly apparent cleavage -- I got mean stares in return but they did not shy away from looking at my stomach as I lifted up my shirt; it's skin, what do you expect? Exposed skin or not, we do have a huge "pervert" problem in the city though... make a strong point that this is utterly unacceptable. There is very little respect, hence "peek" and "glimpse". We were outdoors at all times, soaking up the eerie positive vibes, the daytime/nighttime warmth -- all of us together healing I guess (or giving even less of a fuck than before).

pounding...

...from above us, at unreasonable hours makes for an awful wake-up signal. We handle it from all the right angles but it seems as though it's out of their hands. Fine then, it's in ours. At least, for a time, there was the respectful silence of what once was the tenants' home. Our newest nearby retreat has changed their administration and it is no longer as it was (for too short a time) even though the naked eye can't see the difference but I suppose that too will soon change. If it ain't broke... you know. Maybe it had to become something else so that it would be one less thing miss out on. And the above pounding persists, not unlike the defamation of a nearby sanctuary transformed into a view-blocking condo building and its construction noises so close in proximity that the echoes still shake local eardrums to this day. Quiet nights ahead.

sept! dix!

June 2007 will mark the 10th anniversary of our graduation from high school and our fellow ex-classmates have started to gather up everybody's contact info for an upcoming reunion. Contacts keep coming in, long lost friends are found and many souvenirs along with them. I'm surprisingly enthusiastic about it! There's a lot of people I can't wait to catch up with (given that someone might be generous enough to organize the damn thing to begin with) and of course many I'm not too eager to see but that goes both ways, it's normal. It's not as relevant as it was back then anyway, there's this general clean slate feeling going 'round and that's a welcomed vibe. 1997 was still sorta early in the "internet age" (and I can't help but wonder how easier any research assignments would've been if I had access to google back then, damn I'm old) so no one really exchanged any emails or websites back then but here I am today adding tons of old contacts on my various messengers thinking "wow, he/she's online!" and everything/everyone is that much more accessible now. It's very odd but it's lots of fun. I made a pact with a close friend of mine (who's also part of this reunion) that we would make an effort to go out of our "clique" circles (or comfort zones, if you will) and try to catch up with people we weren't that close to back in the day. Aside from reuninting with ex-friends, it seems kinda pointless to experience a gathering if you're not gonna (re)discover faces from the past. At the time this reunion should take place, I'll be closer to where I was ten years ago as well. There was a time when I could vent that I "made it", in the sense that I don't necessarily have a job per say but I still manage to pay the bills (this is still true) -- it's one hell of a (self-appointed) roller coaster (I'm in one steep slump right now) and it hasn't always been easy (you won't really know what it's like 'til you've tried it, as one my friends recently found out) but it has ALWAYS been rewarding. I'm just not certain if I can claim "victory" anymore. I have to weigh it out when I get back there, keep the eye on the prize (a plan I can't wait to work on). So by then, I'll be hand-in-hand with several different reunions -- they keep saying that time flew by real fast but I don't think so, the pacing seems perfect from my perspective.

crowd

Saw Placebo a few nights ago, a very nice/generous show (special nod to the band for addressing the crowd in french, and not just an "allo" either). My friend brought me to see Massive Attack last year so it was my turn to treat her to a show and she's a longtime Placebo fan so that was an obvious choice... the thing is that I didn't know much about the band (though we were compared to them on many many occasions) and I've only heard a couple of songs prior to seeing them live but it was kinda nice to go see a major act with little knowledge of the band and nothing to expect beforehand. I think I get where the comparisons came from; this is the kind of band that you love or hate, no in-betweens. The only real downside was the crowd. I know it seems as though it shouldn't matter but it does (it so does). Some artists will attract a specific type of crowd (one where you almost feel as though you could connect with practically anyone in the room) while other artists have more of a widespread appeal; those are the ones you have to watch out for. For instance, a Radiohead crowd can (almost) ruin a show but I doubt that a Portishead crowd ever could (and yes, I've been to both, many times). I'm not saying "don't go see Radiohead" -- that's dense, but if you see em' in Montreal ('cause see, it depends on the countries and areas too) well you gotta expect some moron to talk or scream while Yorke's trying to do some quiet notes on the piano (though the rule excludes outdoor shows and festivals, that is to be expected -- and allow me to contradict myself even further by stating Radiohead did defy the rule here in Montreal, outdoors at that, in 2001 where they successfully got the whole island to quiet down -- but goddamn, that's rare). Soooo the crowd at Placebo really got on our nerves (I'm not that much of a violent person but I felt like assaulting a few on that night) -- it was distracting but it wasn't enough to ruin the experience. The last ideal crowd I've witnessed was at the solo Cat Power gig and that was a while ago. You see, you can be loud and noisy at home while listening to the music too -- that's why they record albums.

erase

You can start over too.

h/e 162 march

March change / April rain | colder monotonous forecasts / originally written on March 31st 2007 - edited on the post date | It's happening fast and I don't see it coming (for what it is). A widespread effect with possible long-term concequences and an exile that should will prove to be beneficial through perseverance and adjustment. Although some ties may be impetouously cut -- it is in no way a permanent severance. Adjusting to the new characters and chapters initiated by an authority that will instantly lose all dominance once the new book begins. Distant locations not distant memories.

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.