Dans le ciel, des bulles de savon descendaient lentementvers les tables à pique-nique. Sous la table poussait du mush. Seul problème, sous la table il y avait aussi un bébé. Le bébé était enroulé dans des langes de coton, ces dernières recueillant les déchets de ses intestins. Les odeurs d'excréments levaient le coeur à l'enfant. Au même moment, une moissonneuse-bateuse s'approchait dangereusement. C'est alors que le bébé tenta d'émettre des onomatopés afin que l'on vienne à son secours. Non loin de là, un jeune se shootant au Windex entendit les "woin" du bambin. Il partit dans une course folle au secours du flo. Cependant, le poison agissant dans ses veines, le fit crouler sul sol sul dos. La moissoneuse-batteuse s'arrêta et la porte s'entrouvit. Dame Nature ayant un mauvais karma, elle souleva le bébé et l'obligea à manger du mush. le bébé était buzzé intense. Big Bird, le gros zoizeau jaune, sortit de l'engin. Il prit le bébé, le mit dans un sac et le batit à coups de bambou. Vu les circonstances, le bébé était devenu mou... POUF ! Michael Jackson en fut excité et il eut une relation homosexuelle torride avec Big Bird dans une voiture. Big Bird fourra Jackson avec la passe du moulin qui tousse. Sur ce, ils restèrent entubés l'un dans l'autre devant les restes mous du bébé...

it's 4 am and I CAN'T SLEEP

Jean et sa joke sur les Acadiens

Maman ! Maman ! J'ai vu un plane dans le ciel !
On dit pas plane, on dit avion...
Maman ! Maman ! J'avions vu un plane dans le ciel !


Jesse et sa "gross" joke de la soirée

Comment fait-on pleurer un bébé 2 fois ?
Tu essuies ton pénis plein de sang sur son toutou préféré après !

J-S: C'est assez poche, fatiguant aussi. J'aime ça...

Phil: Tout vient à point à qui n'a même pas eu à attendre at all...

Audrey: On est sexy comme des biscuits sodas!

Jesse: J'trust tout le temps la corde d'habitude... Le rouleau à pâte m'a dit de prendre le deltaplane.

Phil: Emboitez-vous d'une façon quelconque!

Audrey: J'va avoir du chat plein les cheveux!

J-S: T'as tu encore ta grosse touffe frisée avec le cap de juif aplati en arrière de la tête ? Pis oublie pas! Quand tu laves tes bas, laves-les à l'envers !

Phil: You can look but you can't touch, but you can't look too much.

Jean: D'où viens-tu ?
Dee: Du Bangdladesh... Au Bangdladesh, on mange de la desh.
Sur lecture de ce dialogue plusieurs heures plus tard, JiBé: Nice man ! Je veux y aller !

Phil: D'fixer la poignée d'même, ça donne le goût de r'tourner endans !

Dee: Tout est tellement clair quand t'ouvre les yeux...

Phil: Ouin Jamie... T'es rentré dans ta bulle en ostie.
Jamie: C'est dans tienne que chu rentré pis je volette...

Jean: Yé où le cendrier ?
Phil: Un peu partout...

JiBé: Bi ? Moi ? Vraiment pas ! J'suce juste des bites...

J-S: Je courbe mon ventre pour te dire salut...

Phil: Une envie de chier, ça se voit venir quelques heures en avance...

I've thought about it for a while, what I want to write about here now that Time Machine is done. It would be pointless to write a whole entry saying "I was right, I am a good promoter, my party was a success". Anyway, me being or not a good promoter is up to the ravers, as much as I can be proud of my accomplishments. No, now is a good time to talk about the future, specifically the future of the scene. I'm having a pretty good idea to where I fit in this, so here we go.

The scene is in a state of renewal. A lot of the older promoters are tired, and retiring. Some will be staying, and some will come back in 6 months, but few of the older promoters are as active as before. The lost of interest for raves in the last few years also discouraged a lot of promoters. It's time for a new generation to step in, and this is where I come in. Recently, a lot of ravers decided to step up and throw a first party. With the blank left by the older promoters's departure, it's easier to get noticed. It's also good for the scene, we need serious people to throw parties. Of course, the transition from party goer to serious promoter isn't for everyone. We're talking about changing the way one parties. A raver just wants to have fun, while a promoter needs to talk to people about his event. A raver can arrive and go back home whenever he wants, while the promoter needs to be at the door from 5 to 9 am with a pile of flyers.

For me, this transition was easy, as I was getting very jaded lately, and promoting made me rediscover raving in a different way. I honestly wouldn't know what to do at a rave anymore, if I don't have some future event to talk about. I actually see raves as a very fun and amazing job, rather than just a party. Many others will do the same, stop being "ravers" and become a "promoter".

Now, for those who want to seriously devote their life and money to the scene as I did, we have a pretty hard job in front of us. I'm sure you can all guess what I'm talking about by now... We have to rebuild the scene. This is something we can do together, and older promoters can help too. (This is serious by the way, any promoter who reads this and agrees with me, by all means email me.) There's no classes on how to throw raves. We all have to learn everything by ourselves, and by asking questions to experienced promoters. We can help each others out, and we have to remember, as promoters, we're the ones who decide wich djs will get booked.

The most important part, is that we, the new generation, bring a new energy to the scene. Different new visions, interest in new talents that might not have been noticed before, new concepts... Of course, not all of us will continue throwing parties. That doesn't mean we have to see each others as competition. Only realizing that a good party is the result of many months of hard work, and a good attitude toward the rest of the scene. Overall, I'm proud to be part of this scene, and I think I couldn't have found a better time to step in.

Look in your eyes, wanna be inside
Feel like a dog that's been left out in the rain where it's cold
Gotta find my way back, I feel you burning and I want to go home
Where it's warm inside.

I need you touch you're like a siren
Temptation pulls me closer I can't resist
So let me in now, cause I've been waiting
Any longer and I'm gonna explode

So tell me that you want it,
So many things I need to know
You can't hide your secrets and nothing's sacred
When we're here all alone
Tell me that you like it slow

You've gotta let me in now
It's where I want to stay
You're wrapped around me and I'll never escape
From this game we play
Won't you stay
Our lives will change and we'll both get dizzy

Image marred by self-infliction
Private wars on my soul waged
Heart is scarred by dual volitions
Juxtaposed and both engaged
Kindle flame, a test of faith
Pray help me see it through
I put all my trust in you

Refine hate and love
Fall afresh on me
End this crisis of
Identity

Draw this darkness out like poison
Stab, retrieve, again decline
Help me drive the dagger deeper
Trace with me explicit line
Take this blade, a test of faith,
And strike me deep and true
I put all my trust in you

Refine hate and love
Fall afresh on me
End this crisis of
Identity

This is my voice, all shadows stayed this is my heart, upon the altar laid
Please take all else away, hear my cry, I beg, I plead, I pray
I'll walk into the flame, a calculated risk to further bless your name
So strike me deep and true, and in your strength I will live and die both unto you

Some days we're close, some days it feels like you're avoiding me
Do you really care because your indifference crushes me?
A friendship slips away when our feelings are in the way
That's why I'll never talk, thats why I'll always stay the same
You're so good, You're so fine but you'll never be mine
A sad heart, a fake smile, my version of life

Sometimes she sleeps in my arms and i would like to have something more
but i respect that person
so i won't make a move
Don'T want to screw the relation
Hey! I'm not a fool The next day she barely talks
Fuck! I thought I did right
and I don't like that feeling
My failure taught me something
What's hurting?
It's not falling, its standing

Fucked situation, I have only two options
In both i fail, I have no solution
I'm going nowhere, the lowest state of mind,
it's something i cant bare, a heart ache I cannot put behind
I had nothing, I have nothing, it's not changing
Impossible love, my lost cause

And I for once chose to stand,
just wanted to make you know that I understand

My heart was red but now it's dead
My feelings for you has brought it to an end
I'm going nowhere, the lowest sate of mind,
it's just something i can't bare, a heart ache i can't put behind
I had nothing, I have nothing, it's not changing
A sad heart, a fake smile, my version of life
Impossible love, my lost cause

Je termine mon shift de travail. J'en profite pour faire le tour de qqs blogs. Celui-là me tombe dans l'oeil. Mais bon il est temps de rentrer chez moi. Je me lève et j'aperçois un bel homme dans un autre cubicule à qqs mètres de moi.
Could it be?? JL le chasseur mâle non-moins-urbain?
On se regarde et ça clique tout de suite. La soirée sera chaude, c'est déjà certain. Je m'approche. Je l'invite à aller prendre un verre en exécutant une manoeuvre spectaculaire avec mon crayon. Il semble séduit et me dit qu'il est willing mais qu'il doit aller mener son laptop chez lui. Soit.
On en profite donc pour une belle marche dans Hochelaga. Quel quartier romantique. On arrête devant un pawn-shop et on discute à savoir quel ordinateur nous aurons dans notre nouvelle maison.
On arrive chez lui. L'atmosphère est intense est propice au cocktail. Me répond qu'il doit se changer et court vers sa chambre. Il revient ausstôt avec un t-shirt d'été model 1290 American Apparel. Je ne peut m'empêcher d'échapper "T'es sur les hautes mon cochon?"
Il rougit. Visiblement mal à l'aise, il revient avec des trucs de rubber et m'explique que ça permet de masquer les nipples dans son t-shirt. Stupéfait, je lui demande s'il réalise qu'on parle de cache-nipple en caoutchouc. "Pas pleinement." qu'il me répond. Moi mon coeur palpite.
Il m'accote solidement contre le mur dans son entrée. Me demande si je sens bien ses washers de plastique dans mon dos. Et je réponds... Ah non. Ce sera pour une autre fois celle-là. De toute façon, vous ne me croiriez pas.
En tout cas, ça s'est terminé avec le levée de soleil et les oiseaux qui chantonnent.
(toute ressemblance avec ça, ça ou Brokeback Mountains est une pûre coïncidence)



Trouvé sur un site de blog…
C’est vraiment n’importe quoi mais j’ai trouvé ça drôle pareil…

There is so much BS in this world and I have to admit that not all of it is meant to be BS. Everything we say and do is done not only for ourselves but for what others might think. As often as we say we don't care what others think about us, that is the biggest BS of all, because it's IMPOSSIBLE to act without first considering the consequences. The majority of people know what's going to happen when they do or say something and that knowledges leads them to their final decision. Everyone wants honesty but most people simply can not handle the truth. Life itself is a wildly ambiguous term that describes what our sense perceive and how we interpret them, nothing more. Humans are jealous, selfish and cruel beings... it is the fear of what others may think that keeps us constantly in check.
Being alone is the biggest BS, it's how we are born, how we live and how we die and yet it's the thing I hate the most. Apathy isn't funny.

Listening To: Ambient noise

Bin la c'est simple j'avais pas gossé sur mon profil depuis longtemps donc on va fair comme toute les autre profile on va remplir de blabla les espace blanc
lizez si vous le désiré mais je vous garanti pas que c intéressant

My sickly skin cannot bear the warmth. Cold damp heart has become accustomed to itself, and strong, and proud to be able to survive as it does without you…love. I sneer. I am filled with awe and power and contempt for weakness in myself, I know to expect it in others, others are undoubtedly weak, they are victims to the lie of companionship that dominates their being, their helpless frail minds. Others believe that home exists, that mother and father are people who will live forever, at least in memory -lies-, that the essence of being has a finite reality. I am smoke, forgotten by the most fleeting of breezes, invisible at night, non-being, and un-existent. The absurdity of my chemical reactions attests to the philosophical underpinnings of my grand awakening, my vision of surreality. Hail oblivion! This social construct is a fleck in time and space, a product of our collective consciousness, a mass of droning voices, everybody saying the same thing in a different language over, and over, and over again. I hold my hands tightly over my ears, I hold my breath and my cheeks inflate like a blow-fish, I scream louder than the totality of droning voices around the world, I escape the arbitrary settings of historical time and I try desperately to embrace now, the wind, the sensory reality of flesh...And I try to forget my impending death. I want to combust spontaneously like a phoenix, I want to know all, at once, and now…Goodbye family, in one way I loved you, in another you were never more than a bag of bones already dead. But I suppose either way you are the heritage of this thought and warm salty water brims at the idea of my own humanity. I am human. Or was it only a dream? Am I someone else’s own? Does another mind hold this heart? Am I an astral projection into the universe by a yet unborn child of the earthly sun, lying in the comfort of womb? Home would be the cycle of birth and death. Home would be someone else holding my hand and guiding me through the walkways of perception.

Now it’s raining, my head is thunder. I am vodka and pot and beer and cigarettes and all the things I sit here and consume to inspire me. I am sugar with its long history of colonization, and slavery, and addiction. I am the rich aristocracy of Western Europe playing organic games of destruction…dirty hippie. I try to place my mark on my stone grave, but I am dead and I cannot hold a pen or hit the keys, so I dictate my story to a telepathic…I wish you could read my mind, live inside my consciousness, get me…Sad as I am, alone as I always will be.

I believe in love, but only when you look into my eyes. I believe in the entire social drama, but only when the moon holds my gaze and smiles at me in awe, as if I were brighter than it is tonight. As if I was the sun.

Listening To: the world

je joue de la cuiller pour des extraterrestres, qui eux, préfèrent le trombone. En écoutant cette histoire, j'ai réalisé qu'il y avait anguille sous roche. En un éclair j'ai tout compris. Je jouais seul dans la rue quand soudain, une branche me tomba sur la tête. Une branche de bananier... Les papillons se sont alors envolés, l'arbre déversant ses fruits, libérant des ondes d'odeurs sucrées tout au long de l'écorce. Mon tablier orné du logo de Monopoly et d'une brûlure de cigarette - ce tablier qui me donne des airs de sorcier brûlé sur la croix - était dû pour la poubelle. Cette dernière était déjà remplie de rognures d'ongles et de plumes d'autruche trouvées sur mon gazon. Tout un pot-pourri! Les odeurs qui s'en dégagèrent chatouillaient mon cerveau et me firent tomber sur le plancher de mon atelier de soudure. Ayant percuté une manivelle lors de ma chute, j'hallucinai un tourbillon d'étoiles. Étant velu comme un ours, on avait de moi l'image d'une brute. J'étais un sans-papiers...

Shooting Star Forever c'était magique! La musique ultra joyeuse, des étoiles partout et des gens ultra sympa, ca s'tes cool comme rave.

Le probleme, c'était les policiers, oui oui, qui sont venus nous écoeurer pour des conneries tendis qu'il y a de plus gros problèmes dans ville. Peu etre qu'ils nous ont considérés comme des proies faciles contrairement aux gangs de rue. Il ne voulait pas se cassé la tete a trouver des vrais problèmes, non non on écoeure des raveurs qui ne font que danser! On se sent en sécurité ici.

Time machine arrive, jespere que ce sera encore meilleur =P

A raver's career last for an average of 6 months. No, that's not very long. In fact, it could lead us to wonder why raves still exist. Well, there is the scene's "core" ravers who will stay no matter what. I've always said it, the regular ravers attend most events, but the new ravers or the ones who only rave once in a little while are the one who truly make an event unique. Why? Because they're not jaded and they bring a good vibe.

Now, I mentioned new ravers and occasional ravers. This blog entry is mostly about new ravers. New ravers are what makes the scene alive. Especially now, we need them more than ever. We also need them to stay in the scene. A few of them will be bright enough to only rave once in a while, or go to every party but stay sober most of the time. Most kids will have the reflex to try to recreate their first rave by partying as often as possible, and take more and more drugs. This is not everyone's case, sadly though, it happens too often.

Going to a lot of parties can be fun. I rave every weekend myself. (When I need to promote anyway) three things, first I'm already jaded, and it couldn't get any worse, second I do it cause I need to promote and third, I party sober. Now, a new raver won't see things the same way. Someone who isn't jaded should try to stay this way as long as possible. When you do something a lot, you get jaded about it. It will happen to everyone, but it's best if it happens as late as possible. I know most kids won't be able to do this, but if any of you have friends who just started raving, please try to explain to them that raving is really more fun if you do it once in a while. Of course, promoters want their parties to be full. As a promoter myself, I want every raver to go to my party. Still, I have to admit it's better for the scene if the people don't burn themselves up.

The second issue is drugs. It's ok to do it once in a while, but doing too much drugs can make someone jaded pretty quickly. I remember, once, at a party. This kid told me he'd been to an after party that lasted for 5 days straight! 5 days on E without sleep, or with very little sleep. This is the kind of thing that makes people go away from raving. Too many kids associate raves with drug abuse, and run away from the scene because of that. It's ok to "pop" once in a while, but people who abuse will just get hurt one day, and then be scared of the scene. Some of them might stay, but with a totally different attitude. The magic of raving will be gone for good. Again, please everyone, give the example to the new generations. Yes, it's good for ravers to trip a bit, but everything is better in moderation.

In the end, raving is a good way to get away from every day stress. When it becomes the center of a person's life, it can't be good. It's dangerous for the health to rave too much. It can also ruin both professionnal and family life. Raving in itself is a drug, and is way more fun in moderation. We need ravers to last if we want to build an healthy scene. You all know what to do.

Listening To: Matduke - Celebrate the future

Time
(Mason, Waters, Wright, Gilmour) 7:06

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way.
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way.

Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain.
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today.
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you.
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.

So you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it's sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same in a relative way but you're older,
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.

Every year is getting shorter never seem to find the time.
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over,
Thought I'd something more to say.

Breathe (reprise)

Home, home again.
I like to be here when I can.
When I come home cold and tired
It's good to warm my bones beside the fire.
Far away across the field
The tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spells.

I don't need no arms around me
And I dont need no drugs to calm me.
I have seen the writing on the wall.
Don't think I need anything at all.
No! Don't think I'll need anything at all.
All in all it was all just bricks in the wall.
All in all you were all just bricks in the wall.

Welcome to the Machine (Waters) 7:30

Welcome my son, welcome to the machine.
Where have you been?
It's alright we know where you've been.
You've been in the pipeline, filling in time,
Provided with toys and 'Scouting for Boys'.
You brought a guitar to punish your ma,
And you didn't like school, and you
know you're nobody's fool,
So welcome to the machine.

Welcome my son, welcome to the machine.
What did you dream?
It's alright we told you what to dream.
You dreamed of a big star,
He played a mean gituar,
He always ate in the Steak Bar.
He loved to drive in his Jaguar.
So welcome to the Machine.

Dogs (Waters, Gilmour) 17:06

You gotta be crazy, you gotta have a real need.
You gotta sleep on your toes, and when you're on the street,
You gotta be able to pick out the easy meat with your eyes closed.
And then moving in silently, down wind and out of sight,
You gotta strike when the moment is right without thinking.

And after a while, you can work on points for style.
Like the club tie, and the firm handshake,
A certain look in the eye and an easy smile.
You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to,
So that when they turn their backs on you,
You'll get the chance to put the knife in.

You gotta keep one eye looking over your shoulder.
You know it's going to get harder, and harder, and harder as you
get older.
And in the end you'll pack up and fly down south,
Hide your head in the sand,
Just another sad old man,
All alone and dying of cancer.

And when you loose control, you'll reap the harvest you have sown.
And as the fear grows, the bad blood slows and turns to stone.
And it's too late to lose the weight you used to need to throw
around.
So have a good drown, as you go down, all alone,
Dragged down by the stone.

I gotta admit that I'm a little bit confused.
Sometimes it seems to me as if I'm just being used.
Gotta stay awake, gotta try and shake off this creeping malaise.
If I don't stand my own ground, how can I find my way out of this
maze?

Deaf, dumb, and blind, you just keep on pretending
That everyone's expendable and no-one has a real friend.
And it seems to you the thing to do would be to isolate the winner
And everything's done under the sun,
And you believe at heart, everyone's a killer.

Who was born in a house full of pain.
Who was trained not to spit in the fan.
Who was told what to do by the man.
Who was broken by trained personnel.
Who was fitted with collar and chain.
Who was given a pat on the back.
Who was breaking away from the pack.
Who was only a stranger at home.
Who was ground down in the end.
Who was found dead on the phone.
Who was dragged down by the stone.

It's not my fault that you lost your way;
Your insanity will prevail.
It's not my fault that you lost your way…

Nous étions tous en voyage quand un brouillard s'approche,
C'est la forêt des regrets amers,
des doutes sans rémission.

I'm living life in this forest,
The shadows and stains;
And the government,
They take the gains,
but we're left with the reigns.
In the name of our God and our dead generations,
The poets have been called for creation.
We were born free to the world,
as we were born we will depart;
I refuse upon the mic to be refused my spark.
See the fire seventh sign is near,
So hear this calling,
Once the man, come twice the child.
'Cause the fear of the man turned us all fucking wild,
I'm born again to see the end.
'Cause all I really truly got is this block and my friends,
But where am I gonna be when there's nothing left to spend?
And I remember what the dread said;
And I remember what the dread said:

It's not my fault that you lost your way;
Your insanity will prevail.
It's not my fault that you lost your way;
Your insanity will prevail…

So, all you freak punks and all you cool Ginos,
Pump up your Jeeps and and brass down your Chinos.
We hit you with the Bran Van style:
Roquefort, blue cheese, Kraft floor, cheese tile.
Yeah, we hitting you strong,
We be the lawd awful song you can't shake from your gong.
With a BV3 g riff to a drunk drum,
C'mon man, spill some outcome.

When I was lost, I saw the forest was dark;
You lose the fire and the flame with the loss of the spark.
I let my body house demons,
That fed on my mind.
I was looking for myself,
To myself I was blind.
Because my senses confused, with what was once so real;
I could not hear, taste, touch, or fear.
But slowly I try at each and every cost to rebuild these strengths that I've lost.

It's not my fault that you lost your way;
Your insanity will prevail.
It's not my fault that you lost your way;
Your insanity will prevail…

So test drive to the forest, to the jungle,
To the place outside yourself.
I'm speaking strictly of the self,
You know as I jump, slip step deep and wide.
And watch all the animals,
The mammals, lions, fishes, and the camels.
And you know what they're gonna do:
They'll set you up,
They'll knock you down,
They'll kick your ass all over your hometown.
And they're gonna ask you something that you've got to learn to do,
It's something that's so good for you:
You know you roar…
You roar…
You roar!

Jump.

Your insanity will prevail.

It's not my fault that you lost your way,
Your insanity will prevail.
It's not my fault that you lost your way,
Your insanity will prevail.
It's not my fault that you lost your way...

Nous étions tous en voyage, quand un brouillard s'approche,
C'est la forêt des regrets amers, des doutes sans rémissions,
à gauche, une vieille femme me dit:
- Ne faites jamais ce que je fis.
- Qu'est-ce que vous fîtes?
- Je ne fis rien, je ne fis rien de ma vie.

Y a-t-il un meurtre qu'on oublie,
Y a-t-il quelque chose qu'on ne doit,
Finirons-nous dans la forêt des regrets amers?

Y a-t-il un meurtre qu'on oublie,
Y a-t-il quelque chose qu'on ne doit,
Finirons-nous dans la forêt des regrets amers?

Nous prenons le sentier vers la droite...

En revenant de la forêt fidèle,
J'ai vu venir un soir de mai.

Nous passons à cheval devant le castel,
Peut-être devrions nous arrêter,
Mais les moines vont-ils s'insulter?

J'ai repris la route de la rivière,
J'ai repris le chemin battant.
Elle m'a dit viens cette rivière,
Et j'ai revu tous mes enfants.

Nous étions tous en voyage,
quand un brouillard s'approche,
C'est la forêt des regrets amers,
des doutes sans rémissions.

Your insanity will prevail...

Y a-t-il un meurtre qu'on oublie,
Y a-t-il un meurtre qu'on ne doit,
Finirons-nous dans la forêt des regrets amers?

J'ai voyagé à travers tant,
J'ai revu le troisième sang,
Et j'ai repris l'âme guerrière,
Et j'ai repris l'âme du combattant.

Y a-t-il un meurtre qu'on oublie,
Y a-t-il un meurtre qu'on ne doit,
Finirons-nous dans la forêt des regrets amers?

Y a-t-il un meurtre qu'on oublie,
Y a-t-il un meurtre qu'on ne doit,
Finirons-nous dans la forêt des regrets amers?

L'un d'entre nous décide de rebrousser son chemin,
Il y a quelque part derrière lui un remord,
Finirais-je avec celui-ci quand je serai mort?
Quand je serai mort, quand je serai mort!
Me dirais-je:

En revenant de la forêt fidèle,
j'ai vue venir les oiseaux de mai.
Ils m'ont dit que cette frontière,
n'est pas plus loin que le premier soir d'été.

Nous étions tous en voyage,
quand cette aube s'approche.
Disparaissent les fantomes du soir de mai,
Mais je n'ai rien oublié.

Quand on meure une églantine
Il ne vaut bien un sarrazin
Un richichi, une pierre au rein
Et tous et toutes de hurler:
Le vilebrequin de tes erreurs,
Percera-t-il tes certitudes?
Et l'illusion de ce bonheur,
N'est-il seulement que l'habitude?

Désordre

''Ne t'en va pas! reste là
À respirer la fraîcheur de ce matin sans odeur ..''

Explications

Par milliers les mots qui sautillent au dessus de mes lèvres
S'ils peuvent tout expliquer
Je ne trouve point les mots qui peuvent s'y appliquer

''C'est comme se perdre au beau millieu d'un rêve
Ce genre de rêve ou l'on ne voudrait plus se réveiller''

Mais les mots sont si peu lorsque tu es à mes côtés
Qu'aucun ne semble suffisant, je préfère me taire
Et souhaiter que tu les entends, mêmes absents

''C'est comme souhaiter de vivre pour toujours un seul moment
En pensant que le feu des passions jamais ne s'attisera''

Il y a aussi cette musique que j'entends depuis tout recemment
Une douce mélodie aux paroles éloquantes
Bousculant le passé et s'imposant maintenant au présent

''C'Est comme se laisser bercer au gré du vent pour un instant
En se foutant bien de nos gestes négligés''

Malgré Ces phrases désaccordées de sens pour toi
C'est en ces moments d'écriture
Que tous ces mots, je les réalise vraiment

''J'Ai regardé la lune pendant un certain temps, si ronde,
illuminant cet instant,crois-moi, je n'ai jamais vécut un tel moment auparavant...''

Un moment unique
Juste une petite minute,
S'arrêter, fermer les yeux
Et n'avoir rien oublié.

I figgure I might as well make this one be about 2 things that are almost always on my mind: relationships and betrayal.

I mentioned earlier about being molested by a friend. I also mentioned that things in life are always relative, always a matter of perspective. To someone who has violent, abusive parents, being beaten is something common, something that they can take matter-of-fact. To the spoild rich kid, not getting a new car for their birthday can be a traumatizing experience.

Yes, it wasn't something pleasent, but when you've got no friends and your parents make it clear that you aren't wanted around and that they don't care what you do or where you go, someone who regularly wants you around, no matter what the reason, is something that fills the emptyness and lonelieness.

From that, I learned something about myself; It was not the fact that it was another male that was doing this to me that I didn't enjoy, but that he never asked me if he could. It lead me to think for a while that I was gay. Back then, I didn't know that there was such a thing as being bisexual, I thought it was a black and white issue; you're straight, or you're gay. The fact that I was way more interested in women didn't seem to matter to me, because since I wasn't revolted by the touch of another man, I was certaing that it meant I was gay. Combine that with the fact that no woman (well, I guess I could say girl, because I was 15-16 at the time) had ever shown any interest in me, things just seemed to make more sence.

From the beginning, I have always been very much more interested in women than men, but when you have nothing, anything is welcome.

The first actual relationship I was in was also with another man. Things came about in a rather odd way. I met him on a weekend with a friend who'd rented a cottage-type place a little outside of montreal. As I found out later, when he first saw me (though his word is obviously not the most reliable) he finally decided to "come out" because he was "absolutely and totally" in love with me.

He was much more interested in me than I was in him, but I went out with him anyways, and I even let myself fall in love for a brief period of time. The problem with the relationship, was that from the start I was being used for sex, and was completely naive about any of it. I had been manipulated from the start; he told me that he was in love with me, and that he had a genetic anomaly that was supposed to mean that he didn't have very much time to live, and I fell for it completely, as I also had a dissease that I believed put a timer on my life. His "situation" was something I could sympathise with, and he told me that, him having just recently "come out", he felt alone and unsure of how to go about getting a boyfriend, mirroring my own predicament of lonelieness and uncertainty about how to get anyone interested in me.

At the time, I was in adult ed, having dropped out when I was 16, my parents didn't want to support me if I wasn't doing something with my life that fit their mold of how a life should be lived. I made a friend there, who I will refer to as "A". "A" was very into computers and music, as I was, so we became good friends right away. "A", also, confessed to me that he was bisexual and very interested in me, but I told him that I did not believe in cheating, as trust and honesty is something that I've always had a strong belief in. "A" didn't seem to understand that, but he was a friend, and I was in dire need of those, so I ignored all of his advances and tried to remain his friend.

At the time, the internet boom was just starting, but I was still involved in the BBS culture. My BF had internet access at home, so I opened up my first hotmail account and gave my friends the address, including "A". "A" knew that the only place I had to check my email was at my BF's place. I would constantly recieve e-mails from him, who had just "discovered" that he was a nudist, and who kept sending me pictures of himself naked at a beach, in the woods, etc.., which caused a lot of tension between me and my bf, as he was rather pissed off that I Was getting emailed naked pictures from a friend while we were going out. I started hanging out less and less with "A", but still kept in touch once in a while, as friends were a precious comodity for me.

Time went on with my bf, and he introduced me to people at GALA (dawson's gay and lesbian association). It's there that two things happened; first was my discovery of how much a crock of shit gay pride was, and how embarased I was to associate myself with the "alternative" lifestyle. They were only interested in gay rights for one reason: so that they could claim discrimination when they went out of their way to make straight people (refered to as the derogatory term "Hets") uncomfortable. It had nothing to do with coming to terms with yourself, with finding ways to help you deal with the problems you might be going through, it was simply a club dedicated to telling each other stories about how they "freaked out some hets" the other day, which very much dissgusted me. The pride parade has absolutely nothing to do with being proud of who they are, it is simply done to shock and dissgust straight people and homophobes, so that they can then claim that they are being discriminated against.

If you poke a dog with a stick, and it bites you back, it is not the dog's fault, it is yours for provoking, and that is exactly what they are intent on doing: poking and poking untill there is a backlash, and then they can cry about being a victim of an unjust society who can't accept them for who they are.

The second thing that I "discovered" (well, ok, person that I met) was another friend of my BF's. We would all hang out and watch movies and do shit together, but eventually, for some reason, she started being interested in me.

Since I'd always been more interested in women than men, it took no convincing to go out with her, to the point that I didn't even bother notifying him that our relationship was over, which has led to the missconception that I cheated on him with her; as far as I was concerned, there was no more "us" anymore, he just hadn't been notified of it untill a week later.

So that's how I ended up with my first girlfriend.

The relationship lasted 3 weeks shy of 1 year, but there were more than a couple of bumps along the ride. For one, at the time I was extremely against drinking, smoking and drugs, and she was a smoker, drank, and did drugs (By "did drugs", I should say more apropriately that she stole ritalin when she worked with her dad, a pharmacist, and smoked weed. funny that 4 years later I'd end up addicted to pills, smoking cloves and weed, and drinking a bottle of vodka nearly every day of the week). Her habits were a constant source of arguments, and we spent almost the entire relationship on and off like a leaf in the wind.

My second gf, I could go on for pages about, but I will keep things as relevant as possible. I will mention this, though; this relationship falling apart was entierly my fault. The relationship evolved very fast, and within 2 months we were both talking about getting married and how many kids we wanted, what kind of wedding we wanted, we had even started working out who to invite, the whole nine yards.

I'd held a couple of jobs, and the last one I was working for my father. Now, I've always had sleeping problems, ever since grade 6, I cannot sleep at night. It doesn't happen, unless it's induced un-naturaly (being sick, being high/drunk, etc) so I got some ephedrin pills from a friend of mine that I regularly went to concerts with, thus starting my cycle of addiction. Durring the day, I was too tired to focus or concentrate, so I'd take the ephedrin pills to keep alert and awake. Night would come around, and I was still all hopped up on ephedrin and unable to sleep. The next day, I needed to be awake, so I'd take more ephedrin, repeat. The only time that I ever slept was on the weekends, when I would go over to see my GF. I was also steadily increasing how much I would take, because I was developing an immunity to the effects.

Anyone who's knows about ephedrin, knows that when you're addicted to it, it leaves you in the same state as amphetamine addiction; paranoid and agresive. I was always scared that she was cheating on me, smoking behind my back, and I couldn't tell my paranoia from reality. Any and all scenarios that I'd imagine of her cheating on me or lying to me were indistinguishable from reality. We were arguing all the time, and all about the things that I was imagining her doing. I'm amazed she stayed with me as long as she did.

Once, durring an argument, I actually hit her. As soon as that happened, I had a lucid moment and realised that something was wrong with me, and that she didn't deserve to be subjected to what I was putting her through, so I broke up with her. For some reason, a week later, she called me and spoke to me and said that she still loved me and that we should still be together, even with what I had done. She wanted to help me and be with me, but at the time I didn't realise that my problem was drug use; ephedrin was available over the counter, and I thought to myself that anything you don't have to go through an illegal source to get can't possibly be bad for you.

After 3 years together, she finally grew tired of me, and I can't blame her for it. Durring the week, I was a paranoid nervous wreck, and durring the weekends all I would do is sleep when we should have been doing something, enjoying each other's company, being happy together.

When we broke up, I was completely destroyed. I had alienated myself from all of my friends, and was once again alone. I started hanging out with some people I'd met on IRC (namely ScottyP) and through a site he introduced me to (ravewave.com sound familliar?) I discovered that my old friend, "A", was in the rave scene now, having given up his love for country music for freeform and happy hardcore. It's also when I dove into drugs, spending the $900+ that I'd saved up for a propper wedding ring on drugs and alcohol. Ironically enough, the day we broke up is the day that I'd scheduled some time with a jewler that I knew to talk about what kind of ring I could get her with what I had.

Over a period of 3 years, he was one of the few people that I'd ever spoken to about what had appened between me and my ex. We were good friends, he was always there when I needed a shoulder to cry on, and I was there for him through some rough moments. When he had no one to talk to and was about to kill himself, I was there to stop him. When he wanted to quit drugs, I was there to help. When he was depressed from being single, or being dumped, I was always there to comfort him. He was there for me as well, all those nights that I spent crying and depressed, that I wanted to kill myself for how alone and unwanted I felt, he always had an open ear and a shoulder to lean on.

He knew everything about my ex; her favorite bands, song, food, what happend to her in her life, her favorite cartoons; absolutely everything that there was to know.

After a while, me and her had started talking again. She was having problems with her BF and needed someone to talk to and be there for her. For a few months, we were growing close together again. I was always at her place, we'd even slept with each other a few times. A few days before her birthday, I'd slept at her place, and while cuddling in bed, she had even told me how much she missed me and missed being close to me.

Her birthday falls right around the same time as a few other people, so we had a little party at my place for her and Nimi, and I invited a bunch of people over, including "A", who I'd spent the last few weeks hanging out with a lot. He was interested in being a DJ, and I was teaching him the basics of it and he'd come over and practice at my place. He was still one of the few people that I confided in about how I felt about my ex, I even told him that the 2 of us seemed to be getting along great these days and that it looked like we might be getting back together again, and he said that it was a great thing, because he knew how much she meant to me and that having her back in my life, even for just the past couple of months, seemed to make me a lot happier.

The day I told him this, was on a day that he had wanted to come over and practice spinning again, but I told him that I'd unfortunately had plans with her, but the day after was fine. I'd wanted to spend some time with her and was planning on bringing up the possibility of starting our relationship again, and he said it was a great idea and that he was happy that things seemed to be going my way again.

Imagine my surprise when I show up at her place, and she tells me he's coming over. He had messaged her and told her he was bored and had nothing to do, so she invited him over for supper.

His "boredom" was something that I'd grown to be a little wary of. He was a friend, but at the same time, he was a pretty good manipulator. If he was bored and had nothing to do, he had a knack for making you feel guilty if you had anything to do and couldn't hang out with him, and sure enough my ex had fallen for it as I had for the past few weeks.

I didn't see her for a week and a half after that. She was never online and never returned my messages, but I had also just started a new job and was fairly busy, and it was one of the busy periods for her where she worked, so from what I recall she'd told me she'd be doing lots of overtime.

A week and a half later I finally speak to her, and she invites me over for supper. When I get there, as we're eating, she tells me that she's started seeing someone. Specifically, she's started seeing "A". I was destroyed again and didn't know what to do or say. The evening ended earlier than planned, an uncomfortable silence having made it's way into the space between us, and I haven't spoken to or heard from her ever since.

A couple of days after that, I got a call from "A" at 4 in the morning, pissed off, yelling at me and threatening me, claiming that I was harassing her and should just leave her alone, that all I'd ever done was made her sad and cry and that she wanted me completely out of her life. I was in no mood to put up any kind of argument, and figgured it wasn't worth the effort. There is no way she could have NOT known (or at least suspected) that I still had feelings for her, and there is no way that "A" couldn't have known that I was still very attatched to her.

To add a little to that, he was not the only friend of mine that was interested in her, though the other two don't know that I know what they were trying to do. It's funny, because the same thing that happened with my first GF happened with the second: All the female friends that I would speak to about my situation all wanted to help, wanted to talk to her and help me get back together with her, whereas all the male friends that I confided in all tried to sleep with her. I was even over when one of them was blatantly hitting on her over MSN and trying desperatley to get her to invite him over that evening.

So here I am, 1 year later, and I guess I've learned from my mistakes. I've learned that there are so few people you can trust, and that the saying "every man has his price" is more of a warning than a statement. The more a person knows about you, about your life, about the people that mean the most to you, the easier and more tempting it is to use what they know to get what they want.

Listening To: Sisters of Mercy - First and Last and Always (album)

hi im a dnb dj locateed here in montreal. I have a residency at dubwise thursdays@vinyl. sometimes i paly tunes on ckut - massive unit wounded -alongside the host jmoney (wednesdays from 2 to 4). For about a year or two i did a show on dnbradio.com with corey k. that was definitly fun, I played at junglist fridays @ blue dog for a few years usually opening. also at kops crew sundays for a few years with my favorite dnb dj - mint -. i waste all my time and money on dnb and am now starting to concentrate on production, fortunatly i have a few freinds who have been helping me with gear and tips moral support ect.. big thanks to mint, r cola, generic, subtone and sean powers. I consider myself to be very picky selection wise and will only play what i consider to be the best drum n bass.
other tahn that i have been skateboarding practically my whole life - so big up all the local skaters and other freinds. shout to crazy dave, big jerk, dj mint, the whole flex crew, kops crew adrian and my gf harriet.

Jeudi ballade Jack l'eventreur.
Vendredi a Cambridge superbe,punting.
Vendredi soir The Fabric - Pendulum, Scratch perverts... MALADE!!!!
Samedi...
Dimanche Pattersea Park - fete nationale Jamaiquaine - petanque et mega picnic

lost in a name is a being,
unable to grasp itself by a single fragment of syllables,
unable to be in one word, one thought.
four letters are me,
four letters are my humanity.
falliable language you shame us with your system!
i won't let you name me, call me nothing,
call me with the unconscious strength of an army
ten thousand telepathics strong.
read my story as i write it,
anticipate with me the next expanding moment,
dont talk.
dont you dare attempt to capture the immensity of soul,
you shame it!
i have no name, i am nothing,
and you can never catch me.
i am the wind, just a feeling, fleeting;
now fluttering in your hair now lost,
a memory for you to create, and recreate, and believe.
believe in a being,
create it as you will with neurological connections,
create it as you will everytime you think of me.
let's live in memory;
meandering streams of thought unspoken
held closer to heart than any sensory reality,
the surreal is closer to the clouds, the heavens, infinity
let's live in the shamanistic wisdom of absurdity.



(afterthought: ironic to write the uselessness of language...self-reflexivity is my personal comedy)

Listening To: Bob Dylan -- The Freewheelin Bob Dylan

Alors aujourd'hui de l'internet pour ecouter de la musique underground (ca a plus ou moins marche...) Un bon riz frit avec le reste d'hier. Un petit tour dehors. Beaucoup de gens (surtout des cyclistes) portent des masques pour ne pas absorber la mega pollution. Une sieste. Marie qui obtient UN nouveau job (et oui, ici les anglicismes sont au masculin...) Donc le Criterion, Champagne, Chablis et Cognac a flot. Et hop, pret pour de nouvelles aventures!

Bon, juste quelques lignes pour que je n'oublie pas un tas de trucs de mon voyage. Malgre ma difficulte a bien me souvenir de tout samedi soir dernier etait memorable. On est sorti au Astor (club du centre ville - vraiment rien d'extraordinaire). On y a bu de la vodka-redbull a 10livres (20dollars!!!!!).
Ensuite club select le Cocoon avec des faces connues dont je ne connais pas les noms. 4 bouteilles de champagne! Le Dj tres bon qui joue un peu de tout de Dreadzone a Vitalic en passant par du Ryana (you dont love me) Plein de trucs que j ai moi meme dans ma discographie, un gars tres sympa en plus. Fait etonnant on sort la avec un gars qui est agent de joueurs de soccer et son petit protege du soir est le fils de l'entraineur de l'equipe de Troyes en France, ma ville natale! Je voulais aller a un party psy trance le matin en zone 6 mais j'etais parait-il trop demonte et mes pots ne m'ont pas laisse y aller!
Mais le meilleur de la soiree reste l'after dans un veillie cave de Londres qui est aussi une bibliotheque donc 50 tres belles personnes qui se dehanchent sur du gros electro sale jusqu'a 7 heures du matin.
Dimanche matin je fais des crepes pour mes hotes et on va dormir au parc car on pue trop l'alcool pour la copine de mon ami!!
Lundi je dors jusqu'a midi et je fais un tour sur les bords de la thamise a Londres du cote de Bank. Tres bien mais tres touristique. trop de touristes. ok j en suis un aussi! Le soir j'y retourne avec Nico mais a un autre endroit de la ville et devant moi sonnent les douze coups de Minuit de Big Ben, l'heure du crime!
Mardi, je me leve tot, je prend le train direction Richmond et je me tape une super belle marche de plusiseurs miles le long de la tamise pour ensuite visiter le Kew Garden avec ses belles mamans et leurs enfants! Tres interessant jardin botanique avec rododindrons, eucalyptus, roseraie, des arbres enormes, bamboo garden, des oies savages canards et diondons en liberte. J'ai trouve un magnifique baton de marche avec une tete de belette dessus. Une branche tombee...
Ah oui mardi soir j ai fait mes fameux petit beignets asiatiques au grand plaisir de mes hotes qui n'ont jamais eu un invite qui en faisait autant parait-il.
Aujourd'hui mercredi je prend ca relax, j'ecris des cartes, tri les photos et ce soir on va au thatre voir The Comedy of Errors de...Shakespear evidemment.
Faut dire que Londres te defonce ton budget assez vite. Tout est plus cher qu'a Montreal (des fois le double) et en plus le change est super mauvais (genre 665livres pour 1500dollars). Je suis deja presque a court et serieux je ne me taoe pas des trips de luxe (quoi que...) meme avec 50% dans les boutiques une fois que tu vois combien il te charge sur la carte visa des jeans a 65livres revienne a 130$) Je ne me ferai plus avoir. Une biere au pub du coin c'est 3 a 4 livres donc 6 a 8 dollars la pinte...
Mais bon j'arrete de me plaindre, cette ville est geniale et les boutiques sont folles. Une fille capoterait ici!!!
Et attention la mode et le look londonien. Ca torche!

It's funny how I only seem to write these things when I'm scared.

For the past month and a half I've been having all sorts of abdominal pains. I've been rather stupid, only waiting untill it really hurts before going to see a doctor, which is usually just an emergency room hack who tells me the same thing. I know I should see a "real" doctor, which I'm doing tommorow, but I've put it off for ever because I'm so absolutely terrified of hospitals and medical procedure that I almost don't care about how I feel, as long as I'm not in there.

The most likely explenation for what I have (though I still need to see a pro to make sure, it's the diagnosis that the docs at the ER are pretty certain of) is Irritable Bowel Syndrome, which is not really dangerous, but IS very unpleasent. Cramping, bloating,
constipation/diarea alternating at random... All those fun things.

IBS has no real "cause", but has a lot of things that don't help it. Diet is one of them, and stress, while not a cause, can be a trigger to the IBS, and I for one have not been very stress-free this past little while.

Going back to what I'd mentioned in the previous entry, I've never had much confidence in myself or anything that I do (unless it's something I know I'm good at, I tend to aproach every situation with a negative mindset). I've always had this problem, and it's worse with people I don't know. I get scared that I'll say the wrong thing, that I'll do something too
weird for them. I've never felt that I can ever live up to anyone's expectations of me.

As a result, I've managed to fuck up every single job interview that I've ever had that did not involve having someone in the company I know put in a good word for me. I get nervous when talking, forget words, have dificulty forming words properly, start shaking
uncontrollably and get fairly obviously anxious. It's happened before that on my way to an interview, I couldn't make it past 2 blocks away from home; I'd feel faint and throw up, weak, and not be able to walk and have to go lie in bed for a few hours.

People think I don't look for a job or don't want one because I'm lazy, and it's the farthest thing from the truth. Granted, I will admit that I have some views that are rather conflicting about things, but they are not (at least IMO) unresonable and extreme. If I
could find a job doing something I love, something I know how to do well, then I would not be stressed out durring the interview, and I would preform fantastically on the job.

I never have, and never will be, motivated by money. I am motivated be happieness. I don't want to live my life like so many people I see around me; trudging to work every morning for another day of dull routine, motivated not by passion but by necesity. Your life is too short to waste doing anything that you are not completely and totally passionate about.

If you don't love what you do, why don't you do what you love?

There are things that don't make sence to me, things that, as far as I am concerned, are a direct violation of every single human being's right to live. Every man, woman, child, has a right to live comfortably, to eat to his or her hunger, to be properly sheltered from the elements. Food, a house, warm clothing; those aren't privileges, they are nececities.

Without a roof over your head, without proper food to eat, without proper clothing to shelter you from the elements, you would die. Why, then, do these things cost money? Why is it that, in order to live their lives comfortably, people are forced into slavery under the pretense that it's their duty. Why must a person EARN the right to be comfortable, to be
well fed, to be warm in the winter and cool in the summer?

----------


I don't think I've ever spent very long in my life not stressed out. I don't know how to handle stress very well. I can give others all the advice in the world that will help them get better, but I can't seem to get myself to believe that things will be alright.

I think the problem is having someone to talk to. Someone that I can really believe cares about me. Fuck, I need someone that can love me. Anyone. I feel so alone and unwanted, like I'm just a burden to all of those around me. I'm embarased at myself for being so weak, so dependant, so needy.Friends are great, but a friend can only do so much. What can fill the
void of feeling like no one in the world cares for you, wants to be close to you and hold you.

And what, then, is there to do when you've been betrayed and backstabbed by so many people that you're too scared to get close to anyone, even though the only thing that would make you feel better is finding someone to be close to? Maybe it's just me, maybe I have morals and beliefs that are long dead in this day and age, but what ever happened to finding someone that makes you happy, that complements your existance, and staying with them. To be there for them when they need you, because they are there for you when you are in need.

So often these days I just want to give up. I think that that is (at least partially) why I haven't gone to see a doctor to get properly diagnosed and treated. Part of me, deep down inside, is hoping that what I have will kill me. I'm in such a fucked up situation in so many ways that I just don't know what to do, how to get out of it. I just want to curl up into a ball in some corner and die and be forgotten. It's why I don't leave the house very often or go out, why I seem to always drift away from friends that I've made. I can't keep a friendship very long without feeling like I'm a burden on my friends, and so I isolate myself from them so that they don't remember me as the mooch, the guy that always wants something and that never has anything.

I just want a chance to start properly. I want to feel good about myself, to be happy for more than just an hour when I'm behind a set of turntables or for the fleeting moments when I'm working on some music that really moves me and that I pour myself into. What I want to feel is human. What I want to be is not empty. I feel like a barrel with a hole in the bottom. No matter how much you fill it, it will always empty, and you can never really fill it to the top for very long.