hi,

I want to talk to you about someone very special. He's a character in a novel, and I don't remember his name. That man is pissed of by today's world. But he's not just grumbling, and he's not a "anywhere but here" kind of man. He thinks the whole age has gone wrong. He likes to live in past ages phantasm where religious beliefs led to crazy rituals, not like killing for God, but mostly like celebrating the mass on a woman's abdomen. Everybody pulls up their hair in ecstasy, there is people inflicting stigmatas to themselves, it's like a big voodoo trance. That has been lost, now we live in a middle-class world where nothing has value except material progress and security. He is looking for doors, doors that would open the way to his past ages phantasms. That man as a rich vision of the world. Everything is so clean and organized, he has long structured opinions on everything, and he always seems right. He has made the world's synthesis, he's sure that today is a crappy decadence. He manages to live in his toughts, he has a rich artistic background. He could lead you into a famous painter work and make you see it for the first time by showing you its metaphorical undercover, all the sublte loans that the artist has taken from his predecessors, and he could tell you what is very special about that work, what really amazes him, and he will make it seem so obvious that you'll feel like a poor spirit. That must be the brightest man, the man who builds a perfect kingdom in his mind.

hey doc, I promised something to you, and altought I know you like to be surprised, I'll just feed you with the promised candy. I also do it for the therapy, I'd better clean this up right now, or somebody could get hurt, especially me. So what do I do to myself when I am in those dark edgy moods, what supplices do I inflict myself with, to what shivering extremes am I led??... I am affraid that will be deceiving, because I don't hurt myself. I'd maybe have a thrill by doing it, for sure I'd have a thrill, a more intense life, and most of all it would be romantic. But I don't do it doc, and you know I never lie. I barely think about it. Maybe I am lazy, maybe I am weak, or not extreme enough, with no sensibility, but I don't. (I am tiny, so so tiny, I am always about to break, I can hardly walk straightly, talk without shivering, oh god I am so tiny, and I like to look at this fragile piece of body like something really pathetic, like a cartoonish stick-character in the wind. You should see me when I am in the wind, I am like a doomed dead leaf, carried like a dead body by the will of the wind. And I always must look drunk or stoned, 'cause I can't walk straight on the line. But that is curving away from the main issue...) Hurting myself is too much trouble. I think the problem is that you start from zero, and you have to get to the point of injury. And also, I am affraid of opening my veins, really, it may get out of control, I don't know how do to it, maybe becauce I never dare to do it, I see all my veins exploding, and something is holding me back. But the main thing is that when you start from a perfect healthy body, it's hard to get you going. I would have to have a small curse and then I could widden it. But even then... what's the matter with me?? why do I keep from hurting myself? that would surely make my life better. And why do I keep from ending myself? Because that wouldn't make my life better. See, I can still see openings of hope... I wish my veins had those kind of openings.

The village that the sun barely lights. The villagers ask themselves: "where is the rest of the world?"

Laura's twin brother talking to a tape, for his psy

We are saturday june 17th, 2006, and I am so bored. Bored of life, bored of people. Well, here's what you asked me, doc, let's record for the "who is the more depressed" contest. You asked me for that han? Anyway... I know you don't want to hear what I am doing to myself, well you'd like to hear it, but I keep that for another time. So what's going on in my mind that makes me so depressed? I feel like I am gonna win that contest, doc, and I feel like you know it. You know I am the unexpectable and the brilliant. So, here I start. First, I like noone. At least, I like noone in the people revolving around me: neither my familly, neither my "friends", neither anyone, except for some faraway people that I can just phantasm. Second, I've got no friends, meaning, true friends, that understand you. I guess someone may have me as a friend, but I don't. Third, this world isn't for me, or am I skillless? I can't do nothing, I can't mess with noone, I can barely talk, barely make a moove, I am scared of everything and everyone, I don't care for career and future, but I don't care neither for present. Past seems to be my only attraction. I also feel like I've missed everything and that I am already too old and would have to start it all over again. And I cannot bear the fact that I missed everything, even right now I am missing lots of things and people, that can never be save, you've failed. I want to be a perfect beauty but I am not. I want to be the most gifted person but I am not. I want to be the best human on earth but I am not. I want to be exactly the opposite of what I feel like I am. I want to be a 10 years old girl. I want to have a 10 years old girl. I want to change everything but can barely breathe. I don't know that I am breathing. I am living and I will maybe never know it. Past was better. Past Ages were better. Being someone else is better. Being someone else is impossible. Other people are impossible. Everybody is dumb. Everybody is false. People only believe in what they see of you. I only believe of people what I learned from them in my dreams. My dreams are all lost heavens. I lose heavens each night. I hate to have to live in reality, and I am awfull at it. Everything's getting worst. I only have glimpse of divine joy that are more and more retarded, and that are making me feel like an epileptic bug vomiting on its last legs.

So, do I win, doc? Next time I'll tell you what I do to myself. This will be another kind of trip for you.

I was in my birth city, but it had changed. One of my uncles had moved, and I was going at his new home, some kind of appartment, to moe the lawn with my brother... The neibourghood was all changed. It now had some commercial street, pretty much like some kind of downtown. There was a railroad track just up the hill, really close to the main street, alongside, and lots of people were walking on it instead of walking on the road. I remember that the railroad track looked very old. In reality this part of the city is kind of old, close to the river from which the city gets his name. I always tought that it was the most ancient and poorest part of the city, with struggling people that I don't know. So the railroad track was speaking for that. On the mainstreet, we were driving and hitting all sorts of detritus, maintenance workfield, all sorts of things. We would drive through all this, almost without feeling any contact, altought I was fearing it.

Once we got to my uncle's appartment, I found out that he was living in a big appartment complex. There were lots of people into their appartment, mostly some unsignificant familly, like one aunt that I barely see and talk to, some dumb cousine, and foreign people that must have been from my aunt's side of familly. There were also two small Indians (from India...) with glasses reading the papers. There were so many people, sitting all around, up high, everywhere in that big appartment. We were almost ignoring each other. It really had that "unsignificant people" feel.

Then I saw the lawn, kind of in an animated picture fashion, some kind of charachter was going down a big hill very quickly. That was an endless hill, their field. And I just see it with small frentic charachters sliding and going down the hill very quickly. The End, I think.

It's hard to know what really the context was. I was attenting to a class. There were three black teachers that, instead of providing some teaching, were doing the same choereography over and over again. They would start some 80s new wave reggae song on their stereo, like UB40's Red Red wine, and do their thing, endlessly. That's the only thing I remember from their teaching, maybe they've done more conventionnal teaching, but I cannot remember. I know I had something going with a chineese girl that I think was pretty much looking like chineese star diver Guo Jingjing, very beautiful. But I cannot remeber having talk to her or having do anything to her. She was there, not in the class, but she was around, and we both knew that we must have love each other and that there was maybe just one step left to take for both us. I remember that during that class I found an orange half over my desk, and writtings around it. That was a gift she left me. After the class was over, lots of people were regrouping outside, like if they were just hanging around before going home after class. She was there, but I cannot see her face. I went away with some friend of mine, and we climbed a small hill, don't know why. From the top of the hill we could see the kids hanging in small groups. She was there with some friends. I asked my friend if I should go to her home in the evening without warning her. I tought that calling her on the phone would be a waste. He told me I shouldn't. I was really mixed up, I didn't knew what to do. I didn't even knew if I had her phone number, altought I remember thinking that it I remembered maybe it was written over the desk around the orange half. I wasn't even quite sure she loved me or where she lived anymore, or if I had picked the right girl, because there were other chineese girls with her, and maybe it was an other one of them... As I was all mixed up and looking at her from the top of the hill, I saw a number beside her, kind of like in a video game where you can see your character health or power on a 100 points scale. That number was representating her love for me. I remember that it was going from very high to very low, and vice versa, very quickly. I remember thinking that it was a crucial moment in our relationship, and I was so desperate and willing to act I ran down the hill to her. I woke up in my way down.

This is the way I used to like winter. Nobody is around, but keep watching the corners, small matches carachters may appear, tottering, lost, and they may fall in the cracks, yes they may, even if the cracks are so thin, they may get stuck between it, and then I don't know what's going to happen, maybe it will slowly contract and grind them, who knows, but that will not make them very different from what they are, tiny matches people... the matters break into dust, and what's left but a feeling?

Haunted by a strangeness glimpse

I don't think I could cope with anybody, live with anybody for too long. When I look at you, it's like if I knew you somehow, must have seen your face in another life or in another past, 'cause you are like something I know, something familiar. I saw that asian girl, and this is there that it became so obvious to me. I felt like she was out of some weird dream, almost nightmarish. That was something totally unknown, I think I would have lost myself just meeting her. That gave me an explanation about my failure to keep my relationships alive. When I know someone, I loose all interest. How come familiarity isn't so apealing to me?? I used to love what was familiar, not the people, mostly the places, the things, the routine, my secret domain. But it's been lost upon... Now I am haunted with that strangeness that came by me, and I loose interest in what has a familliar cover, altought I know this is often deceiving. Being haunted doesn't allow me to pay attention to you (the first "you" of that text), anyway...

I found myself at the university, and there I knew noone. Things weren't as it should be. I was lying on the outside stairs that leads to the sciences building. Everything was kind of fresh and luminous, there were groups of young people goind around, and I was with that girl. We were kind of embraced in a bizarre way, and we would just moove our bodies and melting everything in a somehow impossible way. I remember her skin being very white. She was not very thin, and I felt this cold but lively flesh all over me. She was talking about things she wanted to do right now, but without giving the impression of really wanting it. It was like she was talking to the skies, with tears in her eyes, loosing her sight in the infinite. That was strange the way she seemed to talk about common desires, like the desire of eating chicken, but without seeming terrestrian at all. So I wasn't really bothered by her desire to eat chicken, because it seemed futil and disconnected from the dream. Another great thing about her was that I didn't know how she was. I tought it was a particular girl that I knew, and I called her with that name, but the person was different, for the appearance and behaviour. That's reccurent in those dreams. I feel at ease with people that I don't know. They seem to have no connection to my life, they're just gifts from the skies, with no life background, no knowledge... of me particularly. This sounds like an edenistic vision. "With knowledge came shame" In those dreams no shame. People doesn't know me and they are almost inexistant. In theses cases, I feel awfully good. Felicity is happening. I wake up and I don't believe in friends and relatives. I can get no felicity with them, because they are too real and they come with a knowledge, an austere fabulation of yourself and life. Also, sometimes you find yourself in familiar places, but you find out that those places are different, and you discover, you discover... with fascination. For people it's different than for places. It has a similarity, if you are with people that you think are some relatives, but just because you know it, 'cause in fact they are totally different looking and behaving, as I just said about the girl of my last dream. So you kind of discover that they are different from what you tought, a litle like it happens for places. What's different is that you don't really discover them, because they are no spaces. You cannot moove through them and find things. You are not enough conscious to do a psychological ralley in a dream. So they are mostly strange figurants with no connection to your life. You almost don't see them, you just feel very good.

College art contest, turning bad

We had prepared some theatre show for a contest, a college art contest, presented in front of an audience, in the city's theater. There was a lot of confusion, as usual, in the whole show. The audience was unsettled, people were disappearing, maybe leaving, and we were so much confused that we couldn't noticed everything that was happening. We would find ouselves mixed up with the audience, there was no followable line, all the differents acts were mixed up, everybody would do their thing at the same time, we would find ourselves behind the audience, the scenes were multiplying, sometimes the lights would completly turn off, and this big confusion made everybody forget what they were doing and what was their role, the audience included. I don't know if we managed to bring our show to an end, I really don't know. Becca was either completly confused, either on drugs, either put down by something, but I ended up carrying her around in my arms. She was showing no signs of life. I just carried her around, as people were disappearing or hurrying themselves for god only knows what (still worried about a task that had lost its mean into this mess). She had her arms around my neck and I didn't know what to do with her, in fact I didn't even know if it was part of the show... Who knows, in such confusion?! I had to change and dress normaly again. I don't know what I did with her.

mozaïk

With the Olympics, I often find myself in auditoriums, with lots of people from all the Ages of my life, and it has a carnavalesque feel. I am frustrated not being able to remember anything really precise. My wonderful feeling maybe did carry from one dream to another. I remember one precise scene. I was kind of in a bar, and there were people with costumes and theatrical ways. It was a little like in Smashing Pumpkin's Adore video. You remembered the way the images were sometimes accelerating and slowing jerkily. It was a little like that, as when I was crossing some people, it would slow down, and they would make a theatrical pose, and then it would accelerate, as I was continuing my way. I remember entering in a room with big paintings all over the walls. I was mesmerized by the paintings, euphoric should I say. Coming in the room I jumped on somebody's back and he carried me further in the room. I was extatic. There was something more, I just can't remember, even if it was one of the best feelings of my life... how frustrating!!

I am still pretty turmoiled with something else. First, a city scene where I was kind of investigating. Again, it was an adventure, some kind of investigation or death fleeing. With that girl again. I think we were teaming up. Wo, that's coming from all the angles. I remember a beach scene...ahhh, war with the africans, getting out of a building where a tribe was, and meeting another tribe on the outside....worried about their hostility, but finally one of them asks me how it is inside, and I tell them that memorable stupid sentence:"They have no axes"... No harm for me, I fly away, in the proper sense. Bus scenes, bus scenes.... damn buses, carrying me nowhere, loosing me, falses schedules, busdamnbusdamnbus...

Des parcours qui se perdent dans des régions inconnues. La peur de ne jamais pouvoir revenir. Ou la randonnée à St-Augustin DesMorts. Je m'en souviendrai toujours, St-Augustin l'hiver, région désertique et merveilleuse avec des paysages à couper le souffle. Je me tenais à l'avant, avec une fillette à mes côtés. Elle était avec moi. Nous étions accotés sur une rampe, comme dans un téléphérique, pour regarder à l'extérieur. L'autobus volait. Sous nous, un tigre des neiges qui se met sur ses deux pattes arrières. Il est immense, complètement disproportionné avec le paysage, car nous sommes très haut, mais il est tout de même immense. St-Augustin?? j'y reviendrais. Il n'y avait pas de maisons, pas de routes, pas de gens. Seulement un hiver montagneux avec des animaux fantastiques par leur disproportion et leur tenue. Je suis avec la fillette et je pointe vers l'extérieur et lui montre ces merveilles, avec l'air émerveillé qu'a quelqu'un qui se trouve derrière une vitre de véhicule et qui pointe vers quelque chose à l'extérieur. C'est presqu'au ralenti. Cette scène me rappelle quelque chose, mais je n'arrive pas à trouver. Damn, mémoire... Peut-être un dessin animé.

Morning scene

I don't know how we ended up there. I wasn't wondering neither. She had been on drugs or something, she looked dirty and tired, but energically tired, if that may be... She was like still frozen, not sure of where she were, hurried to get her things together, even if she maybe had nowhere to go. That was a really weird morning. I felt like something extremely intense had gone in the last night, and I felt like if that intensity was carrying in the morning, like if it belonged to the same drama. I felt very good with her, all the way, even if I remembered nothing of the past night. She was some drug-addicted character, covering up her disturbed mind by some hurried ways. I liked the fact that she was kind of lost, hurrying up, paying no attention to no one. I was hurrying up around her, carried by that morning scene vague drama, in the wake of a strange and intense forgotten night.

The Informator: about lucid dreaming

Gone over my whole blog. Made me realize that it took kind of a depressive turn. The best part is when I tell my dreams. I should do that more often. I am working on something these days. I am working on lucid dreaming. For those who don't know anything about it, lucid dreaming are dreams in which you are conscious of being in a dream. Each one of you have had such dreams. Did you know that there was a method that could help you to get more lucid dreams? Of course, the precision of the method 's suggestions is stupid. The important thing is to get the idea behind it. The most important moment is before you fall asleep. You must "fall asleep consciously", meaning that you must be conscious of your mind slowly getting detached of the outside things, and when you feel that you are starting to fall asleep, you must hang to your awaken estate. It's like if you were about to die, trying to hold to this life. That I found it myself. The methods are proposing lots of exercices to do during the day. It appears that it works. Well, here's what it says. First, you should picture that you are in a dream, at least two or three times a day. You should convince yourself that you really are living a dream. I still haven't try this tip. Then, you should think about unreal things that happened in one of your dream, and try to rationnalize it. I don't believe that this tip works. Even if you learn to rationalize unreal things, it would just make your dreams seem more natural even when unreal things happen. But even that last tought was useless, here's why. I don't think that the "unreal things" factor is the one that determines your degree of addiction to the reality of your dream. For example, I had a very strange dream with water flowing from everywhere in my room. It was a dream where I was almost lucid that it was a dream, but where I wasn't sure if it was a dream or reality. The water thing made no sens at all, but I was believing that it was possible, and that's why I tought it was real, and I didn't fell in the lucid dream. I also remembered dreams were everything was likely, but where I was conscious that it was a dream. I just "knew it", it had nothing to do with the dream's content. Same thing for a nightmare, tought it may vary. What launches a nightmare, it's the feeling that it's a nightmare, and it has little to do with the content. For example, I had a nightmare last night. The content? I was picturing myself, lying on my bed. Why was it a nightmare? I felt it in all my body, I was f** scared. So, to get back to lucid dreams, forget about the last tip, it's charlatanesque. I really think that the most important thing is to get in some kind of trance by trying to fall asleep consciously. Still, the methods are talking about some kind of trick when you awake in the middle of the night. It says that you should stay awake and activate your brain (by reading for example) for an hour. That's a way of awaken all your brain functions, before to get back to the fresh sleep you just left. Still, I find that the idea behind that is to mess the different mind states: you just wake up, maybe just off of a dream, and then activates your brain intensely for an hour, an then immediatly back to sleep and dream. Anyway, I am still pretty novice about it. I will try to come back later with more information.

Differences between impressions of life and intuitions of what it deeply is, meaning that there are more powerfull impressions, mood of life, than what we are used to in our social living. I feel sad not to have the words. I am dropped, each time I get alone I realize I am dropped, like if I would live again what I just lived. I am abused, I only regroup alone. I feel like I have to talk like a child to understand myself. Powerfull youth impressions, naïve truth. Children don't speak the truth, but they are not corrrupted from the impression of it. Feeling like it's words, trying to get logical. Feeling like something has been lost. Feeling like you are talking offtime. Feeling like you lie because you are stupid. Feeling like there is a little girl that could speak the truth for you. Feeling like you are an open psychological complexes book. Feeling like you once knew, you once lived. Feeling like there is something wrong about your state today. Feeling like you are abusing you. Feeling like style over substance. Feeling like you flee away from the real problems. Feeling like you are really messed up. Feeling like you are saying nothing, as the intuition of what you feel and want to say lives an independant life outside of your will and conscious actings. Feeling like you do the wrong thing, you don't live as you should, you are not yourself, everybody sucks, there is nobody. Feeling the big "wrrrrrrong", the big buzzzzz, the big "that's not it"... I don't know what to do

Eglemo

Watching flowing things

Flowing cars

Flowing people

Flowing ice on the river

What's left of me?

I am just a feeling

That I don't know

There is almost nobody, almost

They're not listening

Their feeling is almost drone

But it's everywhere

Watching flying things

Turning things

Now it's gone

Silence on the other side

What's me?

I am just a feeling

That I don't know

That I cannot know

How do we sound strange

For the Chineeses

How do we sound strange

Like they sound strange to us

There's a point, where I start to shiver, where everything is perfect harmony, that's grace, and it goes away... That is tragic, but when I am lazy it is not. Muses! Muses! No, we call for ourselves! Call for yourself!! Find something!!