"You were an accident."

How does it look?, Scrawny and raggedy, one leg shorter than the three others, a teary black eye, it even lost its cardboard ears. It must be more than forty years old, a thing from several pasts, it was already there, pathetically hung on the christmas tree during my childhood, with few of its brothers and sisters, faded blue, the grey blue of the rain, to this faded fleshy pink, and i can picture my mom creating those friends from the loneliness of her heart, in the loneliness of her room. Whatever, we make do living. But most keep an ugly scar.

(This is only relevant to me, for a long time i was part of the damaged ones, i learned to love it and love anyone else, i value the poor, the dirty, the limping, the rejected, who learned to live with passion despite being neglected from the very start.)

I'm drunk, what a bum, i don't lke that state, my dad made me drink with him, and i did it willingly, and we bickered, then we kissed good bye, a manly good bye, cheeks slaming, we're family, he thinks i'm doing nothing of my life, and i said next time i play live come see me, in the dirtiest places, i do it for nothing, and there's nothing to learn, it's entertainment and i'm a whore, but whatever i do, i don't do it for anyone, neither for my father, only to feel alive here, poor unloved notes, i will play you, for my own pleasure, and all can pass away, i will vibrate for myself alone.

I'm tired of IntensitY

In me, until now i mostly lived like that, but i'm changing significantly, and that's way more relaxing, maybe it's what we call wisdom of age. Ah... Words!

I'm tired of intensity.
Do you know where you're going with that?
You hurt yourself more than it's healthy.
When someone lays a hand flat on your thigh, you jump out of your body, putting too much focus on that hand, you get dizzy, you get all warm and sweaty, and you're overly sexually excited.
Damn! Cool down, this is too much for a simple hand, anyone's hand, resting innocently on the jeans you're wearing, the person next to you is sleeping and randomly rotated to touch you...

Taking everything emotionally seriously is definitely more a bother and a source of stress than an exhilarating experience constantly renewed. Highs and lows are tiresome to live daily.
You hear that phrase : "I think there are crudely reflective people and active people, we all have a stronger tendency in one or the other of this two aspects of a personality, and to me action people are more inclined to be materialistic, that is consuming tangible objects and such than their fellow dreamers." (i won't give more insight on this debate because it's not the point of this post).
Suddenly your blood turns faster, your cheeks redden, and your head swells painfully, a defensive stance settles in you, and words of rage toward the rascal who dared to have said that jostle in your mind, anger and shame are making your body boil and pushing you to react negatively,
Defend, Hate, Aggress, Worry, Distress,
and that main thought by your ego : "Someone is trying to eradicated your identity with his opinions! Danger! Danger!", only because you would have recognized yourself in the camp of the action people and that your conditioned mind considers "materialist" a bad, bad word, something you don't recognize yourself in and don't want to be called.
Again...
Cool down, Dammit!
When you take responsibility for who you think you are firmly (but respectfully) and communicate with the guy (the unworthy rascal from the start, yeah that one!) calmly and with openness, you realize that this person wasn't attaching any derogatory connotations to the word "materialistic", it's just a word and any one can have his own definition of any word depending on what you were exposed while developping and growing up and so what emotion you attached to each word, search in the dictionary "materialistic" isn't a negative word, it's just a word, invented by humans, so highly unstable, it's a matter of what you personally see in it, that guy (is he really a rascal now?) was in fact sharing freely his opinions with love and respect in his mind and manners, his goal wasn't to attack you, not one second, he was all innocent, just starting a debate and trying to know you, and you put yourself alone in a dire state of worry.
It's like (another example), saying to someone that he is overweight in an harmless way to communicate and speak about something tangible and relevant in the present (and that can be said without mockery and even with love, as a simple observation), if the person isn't assuming what he is, taking responsibility for his look, his way, his thoughts and hobbies who lead to that state, then he'll feel offended and he'll create painful emotions and resentment within himself who will be sooner or later directed at others (and that's a waste of energy), the starting point of the converstation is just a fact, an observation, if that pal is overweight then he should recognize it and assume it and hence live happily with it or if that makes him unhappy you could discuss solutions to help him, that's the point of communication, get the relation clearer and in the end feel better, in mutual trust, in mutual acceptance. Love is a state of mind and anyone can reach it, stop comparing, stop overwhelming emotions, in one way or the other, intensity can be destructive (because even what we see as good emotions if nested in the ego can lead to a lack, a terrible longing, be it triggered by an object or a person, any high if rooted by the ego will necesarily be followed by a low, if you want to live serenely find what comes from the Being which you are, experiment the world without label and desire, with just the pleasure to be alive in an alive universe).

(I don't say we have to make a non-judgmental remark on everything, silence is gold sometimes, let's have tact, i just took an extreme example to show how we don't necesarily know with which intention people try to communicate, so don't take this life too seriously, and speak and share freely to get the truth of all human beings, a communication in love and respect.)

Stories are for the living

-"Hello, it's Vévé, do you remember me? I don't know where to write but if you want to talk with me again give me your email.
See you maybe later."

-"Hi Véronique!
Would you like that we meet? If it's ok tell me when you are free.
Bye."

-"Hey there!
I will be very pleased to see you. I'm free everyday of the next week except tuesday.
See you."

-"Very well, let's meet wednesday then (i'm busy on monday), i come to your place.
Bye."

-"Ok See you wednesday!
Bye!"

People of the world it's as easy as that! So meet me, meet each others, meet anyone, meet everybody!

I think i'm doomed

One day i was meeting a psychologist, so long ago, i had written those lyrics on a piece of paper, i gave it to her and i said "you want to know how i feel in this system?! Here it is!".
Except that i know now that i totally can't pretend, and that's the most important and inexcusable difference between my type of personality and how this modern system requires people to act, be, and play.
I have to assume myself with that impossibility of lying, cheating, and pretending, all my behaviors, all that i search in others and life is sincerity, in its purest extract, even in the most fleeting interactions. Commonality and stereotypes, what a bore, show me what astonishes your being and i'll welcome you, but if you play me a conditioned role, i get cold, there is no jobs, no places, no friends, and no girlfriends for me in the march of the system. And i stay alone because sincerity is in me as it is in nature and inert objects, that peace is for now only there.

(When you're at a restaurant, what do you speak about, do you comment on your pizza? do you lust over the waiters in their skimpy shirts and washed-out jeans? do you complain about your rent and your lack of leisure?, do you hold a cigarette like you're the most important person in there?, Oh on another time i would have just run away under the pouring rain, even forgetting my coat on the back of the chair, today i just stare in nothingness, touching indifference and void. Thanks a lot!)

something of life

Solanin

Simple and light, uncertain and poetic, but still trying to find that perfect personal way gathering all the great ideals.

If you can't watch this then you should be vegan.

“be the change you want to see in the world”

http://www.whydontyoutrythis.com/2013/10/the-man-who-lives-without-money.html

Hitting a wall

What's the point on writting my stuff on the internet, who cares, people have enough with their own stuff, never going too far, if that could bring me money i will do it now, enlighten the world with my stories, but that's not in my vein to ask for, people should get what is worth what.

It's easier to say i love you to people i don't really care for.

Isn't it logical when being rejected by someone you like is way more painful when you dwell in the unconsciousness of your own identity... but someone with absolute faith is his own self doesn't need anyone anymore. That self that can be self created heartless or really drown into beingness and simple acceptance of what is, must you be poor, alone, and crippled.

Death takes everything from you except who you truly are.

From time to time i meet a social worker, we are getting accustomed to each other and i'm quite familiar with her now, i smile when i see her wearing high heels and a short straight skirt while she must be around fifty.
Today she made me wait for another thirty minutes in the waiting room, when finally she introduced me in her office she appologized that was her fault for messing up several meetings and i said "That's ok i always have a book with me!", and then she became curious at the colorful cover and bent over her desk to read the title of the book that i had put on a chair near mine, so i picked it and showed it to her, she opened a notebook and scribbled the infos, the title, the editor, and the author, and i asked amused "why are you noting that?!" and she replied with a playful smile "Because it seems interesting i'm going to search it for myself." "What is it about?" she continued, taking time over the very matter we actually should be discussing, i said "Oh that's highly sexual, i wasn't expecting that, it's the human intimate relations from the point of view of cats, sort of, my sister lent it to me." I felt she was even more stirred and interested hearing that first detail, and finally we started our interview in that cheeky playful atmosphere. Eh eh!

Misery

I'm waiting for a girl who could cry in my arms listening to such songs.
Because if she gets this close in such a fragile moment that means she trusts me fully, and if she cries that means we feel the same way.
I'm waiting and that's my misery. (Because loving is dangerous to me.)

The style over the substance

Here's a piece of personal philosophy : i don't care carving poetic and convoluted sentences when i have something to say that i deem important, a point to make. I surely prefer to be clear, if there's something to learn from it, complex sentences and stylish efforts seem pompous to me and most people, as they're not in your brain to get its functioning, will skip the meaning and crucial message of your text. Words are bricks and writting is a frivolous game.

The Mind Pilgrimages

I never forget the places i've visited, as small as it is, even a simple room, neither the persons i got along with for a while, even if for just one week of vacation in a resort town near the ocean, places and people i would never see again, i'm enclined to experiment, check new angles and new personalities, which can become a recurrent part of my life for some time, then we let go, naturally, melancholy stays in the memories i cherish, but there's a discovery in each step we make, and curiosity fuels me, sometimes i wonder how i could have spent so much time in a place which appears sordid and gloomy in the reconstruction of my memory, or with someone that i recall now had nothing in common with me, but my mentality is that everything and everyone is interesting, i give myself a chance to get close to the difference, and then i go on.

I slept away from my appartment for some time recently, to the suburb in a tiny white room under the roof, with posters on the walls, Kurt Cobain, James Dean, and that french pop singer, bubblegum look and variety, clothes and cardboard lying all over the wooden floor, a small bed under a single window from which i could watch the clouds when i was resting, the disrupting sound of the creaking stairs, and the swampy smell of the wide field outside, the bail is out, i will never go there again, she moved, i remember she poked me with her arms and legs when she rolled over while sleeping, her deep breath and peaceful dark face and slashed skin, the keen discussions we had starring at the ceiling, the lessons and the hugs, and now it's on to a new stage, it has changed, i'm waiting for the next phase.

The capacity of amazement

I often feel disconnected from people, like i don't vibrate on the same energy, solitude i'm used to, so i'm not here to complain about a lonely life, i think i recently defined more closely what is the state of my own energy, i always say "stupidity doesn't amuse me", but many people use it for social relations and gathering (the superficial talking and jokes, the silly films and shows), i don't know how to tell jokes, and lightness doesn't stimulate me, but i have that capacity of sharing amazement, over simple things and events, that i analyze and build up stories around, the depth in perception is my way, and i think i miss people receptive and also transmitter of that same kind of energy, positiveness and respect, people who could let themselves be around me, in their creativity and intelligence, affection and well being.

One day i brought a girl on a piece of road by night, on that short and special segment flakes of quartz were mixed with the tarmac, so that under the street lights and a clear moon it's like we're walking accross a starry sky, i was genuinely thrilled when i discovered that effect during one of my night rides, but that particular girl didn't look at the magic for long, she faced me with a faint mocking and teasing smile saying "Is that all there is here", and the worst of all is that she stayed with me for another six months afterwards.

Let your passion, your interest, your affection flowing, express who you are freely in the frame of respect, you are heard and recognized.

"I appear missing"

Such a great album, for music lovers; nothing to waste

Queens of the stone age - Kalopsia (like clokwork album)

Queens of the Stone Age - The Vampyre of Time and Memory

Queens of the Stone Age - …Like Clockwork

See this couple, a middle aged woman, fat and ugly, wearing a lame, reddish, and washed-out t-shirt, so skimpy that her belly stretches it awkwardly, unfitting jeans and sneakers with laces too long that they sweep the ground when she walks.
She's side by side with an old guy, his spine bent under the weight of years, a bony figure dragging his feet around, wearing loose jeans and a striped lumberjack shirt, glasses on his hooked nose and curly grey hair on his skull. Probably she works as a janitor or clean the rooms of random companies at night, she doesn't have many friends, maybe none, and she lives at the fringe of society, spending much time in front of the tv set. And maybe he works as an archivist, alone, underground, when he comes back late at night he makes himself a cup of tea and sits on the couch, next to her and she would lay her head on his shoulder for a while. On days like today they linger around in hidden places, unpopular, taking pictures with and old fashioned camera (one who looks like an accordion).

There's a large field of rebelling weeds, spreading on a slope down to a road, on top of the hill is an abondonned manor, at dusk young people come here to drink beers, empty cans are scattered on the steps to the great entrance, during the day it's a lonely deserted place, and the noise of the city doesn't even reach the main building.

The two lie down in the grass.

I bring you here, where i like to wander, in those intimist places made to cuddle and get close, or get lost and nostalgic, everywhere i go on my own is a place like this, mostly forsaken and unspectacular, but i can't hug you and maybe i'm envious of that eerie couple, i'm like that shapeless woman but i'm still too proud, this is where i go naturally for myself, everything is a matter of intimacy with me, be fully present with another, and you shouldn't be there with me, you should be in the bustle of downtown, texting while walking elbow to elbow with strangers, we can't appreciate those ragged places if we can't cuddle as it's almost the main purpose to be here for simple people, with you it's impossible and i have no grudge, i go here by myself all the time and i like it solitary until someone can see what i see. Do you see?!



You keep saying you do, spontaneously, and it makes it more painful for me.

Art association

Watch the photos and listen to the music. It rings in me.
Something weird and strange, and sad and disturbing.


secret life of fishes


cloud of unknowing

Tomorow will be black and blue, (playing)

I wish for a woman that will lean on me, she will press with all her weight on my shirtless self and push me to the curve of a sofa, as to both be swallowed in the cushioned maw, she would wear shorts cut right under her bum and a loose tank top, ............
gird my wrists i will be helpless, be strong, .........
you would rub the soles of your feet on my calves, you would knock my shinbones and my kneecaps with your kneecaps and your shinbones, and we will twitch and have spasms, i will feel the heat of your slick legs against mine, you would poke my brick belly and stick your fingers in my skin to leave nails marks and i would giggle and tighten to the sting, you would pluck my biceps and scratch my groins to red, you would sit on me and grab my waist and my neck, make me feel your presence, your solidity, your determination, you would linger forcefully your lower lip on my bare pectoral muscle, up, up, to bite me on the round juicy flesh of my shoulder, sharpen your teeth on the clavicle, bump into me, roll onto me, encircle me, push and press and hit, seize me and shake me, be tough and beat, whip me with your hair to the smell of cinnamon, i will catch you and we will get entangled rolling under a blanket, and our bones will clank, and our limbs will spread and spurt out, and our bodies will embrace, and we will moan, to resist and finally rest flat and heavy and piled up in the silent chaos of each other breath.

Never think.

Damned condition!

In that unknown town, on the other side of the country, walking down a wide street surrounded by tall buildings, along the road rows of huge and beautiful plane trees, on one of them a note, it's handwritten, a shaky blue ink on a wet white paper, i stop and i read :

"Old person, kind and well mannered searches someone to share the days and get rid of loneliness."

A telephone number is scribbled at the bottom.

And i asked myself "Will that also be my last resort someday, in my old days, because my attempt to detachment, awakening, and sufficiency would have failed?!"

Some stereotypical theories on some man/woman relational functionings

A man can go out and be intimate with several girls on a same period of time, he will offer presents to each one, and he will be totally present on a moment with the one he decided to meet that day, then the same with another the next day, giving himself sincerely to the other on a given moment, and he can make that situation last a long time, until he got caught not being exclusive by one of his lovers, men have easily polygamous behaviors without a moral questioning.
A woman will be in one relation at a time, but after a while she will search problems and create conflicts, she will pretend (and accuse the other) and make herself feel bored on the purpose of breaking the relation so she can get into another one, she can be in a series of faithful relations on a short period of time, one at a time.
So which is the most morally acceptable. We say men are sex maniacs and women are bitches, we should all get together very well in the end.

Your glasses are tilted she says.

(again.)

(yeah i know they are bent, i took a basket ball in the face some time ago.
So that's what they see of me, crooked glasses, on a bent, irregular face. If i keep it like that, that's all i am!)

song

Slowly

I'm slowly falling to the state of poverty. The metallic curtain in my room broke down. My brother opened the wall to check what was going wrong, then he ragingly punched a hole in the shutter with a screwdriver. Everything is left apart on the floor (pieces of glass, shreds of wallpaper, and chips of paint). I get picked for my carelessness, and peaceful attitude.

The kindest and most harmless of people keep grudges against each others, they violently reject when they are alone in the intimacy of their appartment and frightened heart, irritated by irrational thoughts on common events (like the rain, time, comfort, and appearance), and they blend apathetically when they sporadically get together, not saying what they feel, clinging to their negativity in silence. Where is friendship.

You blame yourself for the faults you see, in your lack of confidence, then you blame it on others for you doubt they accept you with those faults in the unconscious mind process that dictates : "how could they accept me if i myself already reject and are disgusted by what i sense of myself." We have our own perception, it's different for everyone, i, personally, focus on the positiveness, i'm on that way, i'm sometimes clumsy in my speech but i'm never malevolent, never, don't you trust me?, don't you hear it, the words and smiles of unconditional acceptance.

I welcome my mother openly with positivism, when she comes ten minutes every two weeks.

I went a long way from resentment, from escaping responsibilities, and if i learnt one thing that i want to be, it is to have faith in positiveness, to trust myself that i will be kind and caring in my opinions and beliefs, to be conciliatory and never search conflicts, i vow to be good to myself and everyone else.

So many people, and everyone is good at heart, settle for negativity when they are scared, they often don't recognize this in them, so they attack anything and anyone around like wounded animals, and they hurt themselves and others, how can i open their eyes and make them understand that they have the strenght to take over their responsibility without that be a suffering, in calmness and positivism, in the present moment.

My friends can hurt me, if i'm affraid of one thing it's the contagious negativity spread throughout humanity, so i progress, and i learn, and i want to love, everybody at their state of consciousness,  even as low as it can be, trust yourself in positivity and let's spend that time together in self created joy, that then becomes restlessly awakened, everyone in their body, our own smiling entity, that we can then share with others, why boiling inside when it's so liberating to let go and embrace life. Just try with me.

Drums session (beginner)

Starting with guitare at 21, then two years in a band as a bass player, why not learning to play drums now!
(This can't be seen on the video but i'm enjoying it, bah!)
(I always was a late bloomer in the matter of activities and taking actions, now i'm learning drums at 33, eh!)

A philosophical pearl from Dune

"..... to the others, we can say here that Muad'Dib learnt so quickly because the first teaching he got was to know how to learn. And the first lesson of this teaching was the certainty that he had the capacity to learn. It is disconcerting to notice that so many people think that they can't learn and how even many more believe that it is a difficult thing. Muad'Dib knew that each experience carries its lesson in itself."

Dune - Frank Herbert

(rough personal translation)

( happy to find a relevant line in a sci-fi book!)

Same range of analysis as the previous post, (i'm on that case right now, it amuses me)

I was watching a tv series the other day, a couple in a cabriolet stopped near a lake at dusk, a romantic place for a romantic scene, they are talking sensually, the girl is watching the boy with her big watery eyes full of dreams and desires, their faces almost touching, their fingers intertwined, sending each other loving smiles, and then she says : "I'd like you make me plenty of babies."
And i imagine the average viewer getting all cuddly and tender inside after hearing the word "babies", picturing the frank smile and soft skin of a chubby cherub, and so you accept that scene as decent and touching, feeling like a giant marshmallow.
Well on my side i'm thinking if she had said "I want you to fuck me tons of times right here right now!", how that scene would have been perceived?, because in the end no matter how you wrap it the act is the same, the two characters want to let their lust run and satisfy their wild instinct by having plain, sweaty sex.
I say don't be fooled by the twirls of language that is only form, the truth is much more crude, less convoluted, it's simple and it's ok to accept it, but i advocate that has to be recognized.

Hint on spreading devious conceptions about the love effect

The other day i was watching a popular series for teenagers and a kid in the show (supposed to be four or five years old) asks to his supposed bimbo grand-ma after some observations : "Adults are really kissing all the time?"
and to get rid of the question she replies : "Only when they are in love!"

To me that's a common misconception a lot of people have by associating love and physical intimacy (any physical intimacy).
Tv and most of creations made to make us feel, and spend our money, teach it that simplistic way, but my beliefs are otherwise.

True love is the perfect acceptance and respect of the Being of the others ( i think most people don't know what is the Being, the true self, so they feel and live through their ego, the entity in us that is insecure, that desires and creates fears and separation, they only know the demented and always painful egoic love, but that's not the point here), true love goes without judgments, without expectations, and without desires (because it's already wanting to change the other, and get something out of him/her, it can be physical, or material, and even spiritual [as in getting a knowledge]).
To me that's a confusion on the word "love", what is spoken about in the show is plain old and primal lust, leading to sex and physical intimacy, naturally implanted in us to reproduce and allowing our race, the humans, to continue existing over time. It's not noble, it's not romantic, or pretty, it is forced on us, and lust doesn't acknowledge and respect the other, it's a simple primal drive.
So sex is ok between consenting persons (it's a passtime two, or more, persons can share, like playing tennis) but it has nothing to do with the true and lasting love we all crave for.
So shows like these implant a wrong concept in youth minds, who become dependant.

A card from societal mentality

I'm standing up in the back of that smoky bar (it is mist and vapor rising from the pack of sweaty overheated bodies), a band is playing a soapy song and everyone is cheering, i've got my cynical smile pinned on my face but i must look amenable enough (i'm thinking) because a guy is creeping over me through the crowd, as slipery as a snake with a malicious grin behind his thick long hair, he positions himself close to me, one step farther, and pretends listening to the music.
After a while he starts talking to me, soft words coming from his sweet tongue, he creates the intimacy, he is calmly joyful, i hear about his life in another town last year and the band he formed honestly, a bass player, a real musician, we talk about our own experiences and i'm swift to reply with the same amiability, few minutes later we share greased smiles, and a little euphoria settles in that bond.
I stand straight, my hands in my pockets, i'm confident, i'm unchained, i feel he is not lying in his anecdotes, yeah i'm pretty sure he is not, and i'm not too, this is working for a real conversation.
Minutes pass, decades of minutes, this is not a counter talk, then the current band finishes his set, everybody applauds, people go outside to burn one down, and others get scattered around me and my interlocutor, we're not isolated, we're blending.
All suddenly but with the same leniency and good maneers he showed from the begining he asks me for two euros to get a cheap glass of beer, i say clearly without remorse or hesitation :

"This is a no, i don't even buy a drink for myself!",

so he bends his head in comprehension, still soft, still calm, still smiling, he backs up one step then asks again

"Don't you have a cigarette?",

again i say frankly and loud enough

"No i don't smoke!",

my attitude is convincing, i stay strong like a statue, with a sweet cunning smile, so he goes away to never be seen again.

This is not even deceptiveness, this is the common accepted mentality amongst humans, nothing is free, and any friendship (or any kind of relation imaginable) must come with benefits.
Despicable lot.

Same old, same old

All the stories, in films, in books, in songs, etc... can be summarized in three words : "Something goes wrong!" (Eckhart Tolle says it like that).

We pay to read and see those dramas (and conflicts), to get swallowed and overwhelmed by the emotions it induces, but still when we push to it in the real life, we complain, moan, and weep, and wish it would have never happened. Such irony, if nothing goes wrong there's no story to tell (is a common false thinking), but no one wants the life to go wrong, no one. So don't create dramas only because we are drenched in it over this society, face up what's happening in the present with a smile, one step at a time, and enjoy the ordinary as something beautiful because there is this capacity to sense it in all of us.

Art i like

For the imagination and general atmosphere

More!

The Use

What's the purpose to be thin and athletic?
Not to pant climbing up stairs?! but there's elevators.
Be able to run a bike fast and far?! but there's cars.
Be able to be good at every sports? well i won't ever be a professional in any sport, i'm too scattered and i don't have the dedication, and even someone chubby can practice and enjoy some sport some times.
That body will fade without ever have been acknowledged, who thinks an old body is attractive when there's young bodies everywhere, sex is one use of a body, but apparantly all types of bodies can find their worshippers (even if that society is trying to sell us one female and one male stereotype), in the end people get assorted, or they simply succumb to the drive whatever body they have in front of them.
That body of mine is completely useless finally.

(I'm principally a spiritual entity, i write that without resentment, but for the style!)

(time to go)

I'm finally here, as i enter the tiny hall, not bigger than a bathroom, there's a window in fornt of me and i can see a yard outside, surrounded by a tall fence going on a square and stamped with different doors, to each one a bell.
On a counter i found a piece of paper with a big blue hollow arrow drawn on it and pointing through the window and accross the yard, there's also a short note, the words are kind and welcoming, telling me not to wait but to come and ring right away. That i do.
But before i can ring the door opens and she's here, tall, thin, white skin, and pale hair, wearing messy pastel clothes as she was hardly awake and quickly dressed. She sees me and has a step back, her head rolls on the side to the surprise, one second then she realizes and she jumps in my arms to give me a long hug, she keeps her composure and her lips doesn't smile, her skin is soft.
She shows me around and in the first corridor i meet the man she's living with, an indian (from india), smooth black skin and slick hair, a strong frame, he seems busy to prepare the dinner coming but welcomes me warmly, there's an hectic atmosphere but cheerful and light, there's so much stories to tell and i have to remind myself to speak in english and not in my natural french language.
The house is big and well furnished, i'm impressed, so many rooms and dead end corridors, i go around freely, chatting with the two others, then with one, and the other, but no time really to sit down, there's an event later and the meal must be ready, the house must be clean.
On my own in a corridor i kneel to arrange my belongings, she comes near me and kneel too, our hands brush one another, so i softly take hers and we stay a little moment like this, in a calm intimacy, then an uneasiness came from her and she has to leave and go back to the rush.
Dinner's ready and her parents are entering the kitchen, the woman is jovial, her body is big and round, her hair are pale, the husband is wide too with scarce black hair and a stubble, the both have the rural look, everyone is laughing generously, while the little brother plays tricks, sitting on her mother's lap.
After some time the party is over and the house is untidy again, i can't seem to notice anyone though there's this impression that the rooms are filled with strangers, but they are only friendly vapors to me, i'm searching for her, i know my time here is short and i'll have to travel back soon, i go along all the corridors and through all the doors, i recognize her own bedroom with girly stuff, cute art and pastel colors, but i'm unable to find her, the atmosphere is still cheerful and light, and my head is clear.
Finally i go outside to roam in the yard, then to the hall for inquiry (though i notice no one here), when i come back the door is closed, the house is deserted, the air is still, not a move, not a sound, and the atmosphere fell to blank.

Compassion

I just love to listen and study that philosophy, if this speaks to you, if you relate, i want to connect with you, sincerely.

City trip

"Let's talk about hanging out, i also don't know how most people experience this, going out, doing activities here and there, bumping into a lot of strangers, saying one superficial line, or one forced laugh, one lusty kiss, or a moment made to stop thinking [all like a string of pearls].
I hung out two days in a row that week, with my lesbian friend, one day we walked around town then went to an irish bar (the same i already mentioned once in one of my text) to see people and bands sing and play instruments on a tiny stage, standing in the dark on the front and sipping a thick strawberry juice (well not me but ****[that's the nickname], i feel i don't have the right to order much because i'm not earning any money right now, so i keep it simple, and they didn't throw me out because i wasn't consuming any drinks in their "House"), and the second day we went to a sort of pancake factory (a restaurant) in the evening, i had all the difficulty of the world to get pass the front door, i'm still so uneasy with shops and so, the look, the atmosphere, the cry to please you insinserely and get your money, my friend had to lead to go in and she's only twenty, i'm shameful, but it all went very well once we were sitting at a table, and we talked passionately for a long time (even joking with the waiter), going out then in the night and stopping to get a coffee in a fast food on the way back [we walked a lot, my friend is young and fresh she can follow the athletic me, and she likes it, instead of always taking the easy way by the train or the bus that makes you miss all the details and interesting sights there is on a path to a destination, where you can stop and take the time to feel the moment with all your senses], we sat in front of a skating rink, on the stairs going into the building, nonchalantly, it was cold, but the warm coffee kept us cheerful [with some fries for her, and a sliced apple for me].

I think i enjoy this not in the conventional way, because i keep it to the simplest and unextraordinary side of things, i prefer this uneventful intimacy to the roar and chaos of usual entertainment places, i feel sensitive and deep, and this is how i naturally enjoy things, more deeply, more passionately, more pervertedly, and i can go farther to say that when i experience something more hectic [what the common people seek : the saucy brainless entertainment], like in the irish bar, it's still enjoyable to some extent that i now don't create any anguish in me but it's not fully satisfying because it's superficial, vulgar and not intimate at all [i mean the communications and interactions in that kind of entertainment places], so you never build something strong and lasting, and to me it leaves a taste of uselessness or unachievement, i can't deny that for now i feel it in my bones i prefer to share a nice honest evening with sincere few friends than to lose my mind like others can do [my sister] in places made for easy trips and stripped you off [money, dignity, intelligence].
I really like my seriousness, and i think i would be more entertained in an intellectual salon filled with artists and scientists than in the mess of the popular clubs, bars and restaurants of a city."

Cats are old

Their knuckles creak when they limp over from rubbish piles to garbage cans,
Their formerly pretty pink muzzles turn to a leaky brownish rust
spreading like a disease,
The silky fluff is long gone,
bobbles of dry and brittle hair fall in strings from their stripped buttocks,
Their big eyes get glassy,
creepy,
sometimes pierced by a woeful claw,
pus is oozing, swelling the corners,  and the orifices,
while the body gets scrawny, and the coastal bones more pregnant,
The gait is clumsy, the heads swing and toss and twitch about,
as guided on a string by a vicious pupeteer,
They sprawl on the ground, anywhere, for a lack of energy to find a cosy spot,
the sun bites their face, and roasts their skin,
the earth soils their scarce fur, sticking all over,
but no step further can be made,
Their tongues are drawn out as to lick a last evaporating hint of life,
Their fangs are filed down, if not neatly broken so the rot is settling in the cavity,
and it stinks hard,
Nothing solid can go through their disarticulate throats,
ending creatures,
They go whitened and die, for the luckiest, at the threshold of a cast iron hearth.
Miserable, too.

A lesson of humility

You never saw a man who looked so calm and kind, "a cream of a human being" even said my heartless-faking brother.
"Searching for sugarman", a must-see for sensitive people.
And even if for me it's only a documentary and a reconstruction of people and places in my mind it was still very soothing to spend that time to watch it in the choosen form of this creation.

Humility and simplicity in living, here's something i bow down to.

cynicism

I've got a dilema, i think a majority of people are statistically stupid and shallow, but i don't know if it's a rationalization from my mind to keep me apart of fellow humans because they scare me, so a justification was created in me to make me innocent and everyone else guilty, or if truly, in an absolute truth, a great majority of people are just so deep down unconscious, disrespectful, and plain stupid.

Here are two examples from the past week.
How many times i drive my bike on the side of a road, a long and tiring ride, i'm drenched in sweat, and my damn frizzly hair are straight up like black springs coming out of my skull giving me the mad scientist look i guess, and then a car shows up, filled with generally quite young people, around or above their twenties, pre-eminently men and boys, they pass by all windows open, stare at me with over large grins and mischievous eyes, they wave, they gesticulate, and they shout some words, i can never hear, but it's obvious they are mocking me, my attire, my condition, my look, i don't know what but i suspect it's clearly not personal, it's just the pleasure and effort to find or consolidate their place in their gang, like animals could do, who is the chief, and who are the minions, it's a lack of self confidence, and deep trust in the group, trying to be funny, daring, and interesting, it's a proof of smallness, when that happens, and i swear it happens a lot as i ride a lot too, i just smile back and wave my hand in a peaceful sign, i'm not stopping living, my heart doesn't break, but i ask is it correct? is it fair? yeah maybe i'm this ugly that i deserve to be mocked, or maybe humanity is a doomed and worthless pile of dirt and shit.

And there's this woman who talked with my friend for some weeks, he made efforts to converse as he is shy and soft-spoken, sincerely trying to get to know her, and then one day after shedding on him all the misery others put in her life through childhood and adulthood, and noticing that he was only kindly listening to her, while she secretly wanted to be taken care of entirely, like a baby crawling back to his crib, be supported and loved without having to give anything back, crying for that feeling of hopelessness to be gutted out of her chest, she closed the contact and never resurfaced again. I know my friend is the kindest he would have genuinely respected her, listened to her and helped her, but she reproached him that events between them weren't going as in the fairy tales, the prince comes, snatches the princess, and they live happily ever after on the inexhaustible loads of money owned by the beautiful and fashionable prince!
Those people are vampires for honest souls.
Wake up damn sickos!

i put right here for that post two songs to show my
confusion, in cynicism i excel :

I feel like the loneliest person on earth, but what is potent is that it doesn't disturb me, like i'm resignated that it's my due condition.

(maybe i'll write the details, though for now i keep to that simple feeling.)

Clothes don't make the man?

The other day i dressed up for a forty minutes bike ride, full speed, to see a friend in the suburb, and on the way something struck me, i noticed that unconsciously the clothes i picked (randomly unassorted) were perfectly representing three facets of my personality.

First i tied the thick laces of my big brown boots, strapped tight to the ankles, those i bought in a sport adventure store and are walking boots, heavy sole and sturdy leather body, nicely reinforced, very good to break a shinbone in one blow.

Then i wore white long shorts, made with a solid fabric and getting down under the kneecap, it's wide and comfy, very good to twist and spin, not so much to do a split, those were gently offered to me by the girl i was running with (and not " running after" like it was a common joke for some people).

And last, as a top, i got in a black t-shirt with on the back a huge print of a warrior in a black armor, and with long white hair floating in a probably sulphuric air as in the background coming out of red and orange flames we have the dread to spot the head of a dragon surrounded by tortuous vines with thorns, this piece of clothing were from an unsold stock and a friend of mine working in a video game store kindly gave one to me (the game is called "Castlevania - lords of shadow" and is totally unknown by me).

So you see i had my reasons for picking those that day for that ride, mainly practical reasons (definitely not fashion ones), but unconsciously i wore three parts of my personality over my skin, the boots are the punk life style and rock'n'roll attitude, the shorts are my taste for exhausting myself in sports, and the t-shirt is the geek part in me that likes virtual worlds and imagination.

And this observation amused me greatly, i think generally we all wore clothes that we think represent us (except special cases) it's a matter of self esteem, knowing that it's easy to go against our taste and dress up to manipulate others, but that won't last long, we won't be fine long playing the chameleon, masks fall sooner or later, in a certain extend the way we dress up says a lot about our personality, another clue to choose the people we think could match with our inner self, reading the appearance to guess the mental, but all that is always interpretations, and other factors could be analysed, whatever, let's just be free to dress as we want only for ourselves.

Who is this J.K. ??

"Thought does not lead to love
The process of thought ever denies love. It is thought that has emotional complications, not love. Thought is the greatest hindrance to love. Thought creates a division between what is and 'what should be', and on this division morality is based; but neither the moral nor the immoral know love. This moral structure, created by the mind to hold social relationships together, is not love, but a hardening process like that of cement. Thought does not lead to love, thought does not cultivate love, for love cannot be cultivated as a plant in the garden. The very desire to cultivate love is the action of thought. If you are at all aware, you will see what an important part thought plays in your life. Thought obviously has its place, but it is in no way related to love. What is related to thought can be understood by thought, but that which is not related to thought cannot be caught by the mind. You will ask, then what is love? Love is a state of being in which thought is not; but the very definition of love is a process of thought, and so it is not love. We have to understand thought itself, and not try to capture love by thought. The denial of thought does not bring about love. There is freedom from thought only when its deep significance is fully understood; and, for this, profound self-knowledge is essential, not vain and superficial assertions. Meditation and not repetition, awareness and not definition, reveal the ways of thought. Without being aware and experiencing the ways of thought, love cannot be. J.K."

Lost and Found

The other day i was talking with my sister, and she told me about her desire to feel again the desperate abandonement humans put in a teenage fusional love, despite that she knows now that it is a biased and devious attachment, based on personal fears of not being able to go on and solve things up by oneself, so based on lack of self love and self confidence.
That's usually what you get when you grow older and wiser, you learn to support yourself alone and the feeling of losing yourself in another has less and less ground to seed up.
I was thinking how it could be too late for me to experience that feeling, i'm too strong already, and i arrived at that age without it fully happened, two times in my life i felt to surrender and succumb unconsciously to another, but it was impossible to live, it stayed an unreality, it never reached concrete closeness and mutual sharing, so i only ever knew the suffering of a distant lack which is the other part of an unconscious love.
Now i don't imagine myself be dependant again, my philosophy is set and coherent to me, i could never be fooled again on the path of a co-dependant love, i don't pity myself as i vouch for my personal truth and sincerity, probably those experiences pushed me to discover more about the strings in our psyche, the vicious conditioning that manipulates our feelings, maybe i forged that philosophy of rationalization and individualism based on those painful experiences, but i can only enjoy now to be aware of my inner functioning, i wipe off all negativity, and my rationalization makes me think that i prefer to be alone but true, serene and open-minded than with someone but in a fake relation, clinging because of an unresolved self loathe.
...or clung at for the same reason in the other.

Night out

You want a taste of what it is to live in a city, you go out when the night settles, you roam the dirty streets on your bike, zigzaging amongst the pretty people, you eat on a terrace of a cheap restaurant surrounded by the noise of ten other crowded cheap restaurants, you pick an irish pub because you heard there's an open mic night tonight, you stick yourself in front of the stage with the plan to stay there till the end but without consuming even one drink, people file up in a joyful atmosphere.
There's the required drummer who smiles all along, the gangly white guy with his unfitting shirt, the shy girl with a golden lace around her dress, she sings her heart out and wrinkles appear on her forehead when she closes her eyes, there's the easy going black-haired twins, two pairs of lungs to make you swing, there's the popular couple which can't watch the audience straight and focus on their song by staring at the beams of the ceiling, there's the way too much drunk guy from which we expect a catastrophe but in the end go out quite well to everyone's surprise, there's the wannabe stars who get on stage with a band name and tuxedos, and there's the boss, an older man, organizing the turns and playing a versatile guitare to accompany many up to be artists, cheers and beers for everyone, it seems easy to be there, so many regulars, all singing for the final signature song, it is joy and claps, loud bursts of laughters and jokes, it's heavily insouciant, you cross many glances and affable faces, "we're all in this together" they seem to say, and you feel you want to congratulate them all, then in the advanced night the show ends and you go out right outside the archaically carved wooden door to breathe some fresh air and lift your chin at the moon, smokers are there too, but no one to talk to, one night's not enough, and that's how it must be, you're thinking one hundred nights won't help either because you're not on that merry boat, the experience was good, enjoyable, and probably you'll be there again some other time, so where is the rupture, the disconnection, you were perfectly fine in there, confident from start to end, but you even prefer the dark corner of yourself, who wants to join? 
Easy and foolish is ok but not for me.

The observing Stance (in too many but simple words)

Noon, the sky is low, the air is fresh and filled with a weak light, i am still drowsy, standing by the window i drink a cup of pepsi, yeah it's not coffee, it's a small amount of pepsi, that unhealthy sugary beverage, in a tiny white cup with a broken handle, (i awkwardly but precisely hit the top of it in the sink, some days ago, it broke neatly in a single sharp note), and i'm thinking how it's classy to hold a cup by keeping one's back straight like a pole, the arm folded in front of me carefully nesting that porcelain objet, mentally it shows an image of someone with maneer, caring and education, maybe that's a part in why, unconsciously, people drink coffee in cafes, "to look classy";
Spring is here, the garden down the third floors is verdant, in a flashy green, people let open their doors and windows, a small fluffy cream-colored dog is lying on the tiling floor in the frame of one of those, he lifts his head and sees me up there, accross the alley, after a moment staring at me with a sad look he slowly puts himself on his paws and scampers toward me, stopping at the gate, at the end of the ground path, also the end of his territory;
The house to the right is empty, they stripped it down, probably even scrapped the wallpaper, i noticed it that week, boorish men came with a rusty truck to dismantle all the furnitures that was inside, making it fire wood, they tore down the sink, the water-heater, and all the other apparatuses, i guess the only thing left in there is the rancid smell of old dust and moisture, i remember when i arrived in my appartement i used to sometimes spot a lonely old woman living there, like me watching by the window, her elbows resting on the edge, (maybe spying at me as i spied at her), her time was probably over recently;
On the left house there's a yard made of gravel, a slick white plastic table is set in the middle, on which the sun rays reflects at me on clear days, and today a frail woman is sitting here, i've seen her before, from afar, and i always pictured her as a forty something going on woman with spanish origins, yesterday i noticed she was limping badly as she hung wet sheets on the clothes-line, stretching all along that yard, she seems tired, a book with a turquoise cover is laid on the table, she looks meditative, but maybe she's just resting in the calmness of this pretty, dreary, and classy morning.

Letter on the love evolution

"I'm going to tell you how i perceive things, we are not our emotions, because it is inconsistent, it is perpetually changing, that's a fact, so that's a proof this is not our core, our being, to each one of us, what i feel is on the instant, something i sense, something i share, a place in which i linger around, a person i talk to, i'm less and less emotionally influcenced by what's outside, i'm more and more serene and unshakeable, because i know i create my own emotions, i decide who and what i love, i decide to be fine when i want it, it is not the mind, it is a sense of being, and accepting that what's or who's around can be too, when i'm not with someone or in a situation i don't want to worry about it, i'm not thinking that i would want to be elsewhere or with someone else, and i know i have that power in me to choose to act, to experience something or to meet someone, i'm not constantly longing for things that are out of my reach, and when i did my best at a moment to reach something or someone (and sometimes my best is weak or a faillure, but i accept at the moment that i can't offer much, and i know that will naturally improve if consciousness grows, i don't feel bad about that), i then accept the response i get, whatever it is, i am myself in any situation, i'm full and not judging (on that way), there's no "taming" phase, i don't adapt to the other because i already accept him/her as he/she is (the same goes for things and situations), it is each time a new and agreeable encounter, a new discovery, a new sharing, and i accept and know myself, so good emotions rise as well in any new positive experience.
One day i'll be strong enough to meet you in my full individuality, but my happiness doesn't depend on that possibility, my happiness and loving temper is there in me, and in the now."

It is time to stop, to try to make others understand what is it that i feel, or believe in, it only brought frustration, and lacking, i still can't live materially by myself down there, my soul welcomes any new person, or experience, but on the inside i let go, no thing, no one's needed as a matter of continuing to be, i am, everything, everyone is, and it is simply welcomed as it is, a part of a whole, that can be appreciated for that beingness.

This is love : "i feel in me that i don't need you, but i choose to spend my life with you"

Nevermind World

no pretention
no pretention
there's only two relations
either you desire
or you connect
one can never go far
you play or you live;
i don't owe anything
i don't need to be or do anything
that's realness
you see something you put a stamp
you smell, you touch something
"Hey buddy, get out of my way, creepo!"
you pick half smoked cigarettes off the streets
bash your health in addiction
addictions
stick your own limb up your ar...
for pleasure
unresponsive irresponsible
and you mock
"oh le joli oiseau"
what the fuck it's nightime bitch
(my bad, my bad, it crawls)
water pearls roll over the goosebumps in my neck
hold your ears before it explodes
cool it down
this time is over
now you go fast
fast
pushed by the wind
don't break
there will be some to hold you and carry you
different
once you know you don't need that you're free
different and free and probably
happy
nevermind
oh yeah nevermind!

"Somewhere deep inside me there's still this energy, this unstable flame, i hide it cause there's so many people which don't share it, which don't understand it, one can't reveal oneself to anyone, and i don't want to do it, i want to choose, tonight as i'm writing i'm thinking that i need to be a little less analytical and more emotional, like i know how to, have a few drinks, a few, and more than ever create some good sound, impetuous and distorted, and jump all over the place till my neck hurts!
More, more, i want to play my guitare, i want to form a rock band, spread that passion and have fun, but not in an inconscious way, no, but with people who know respect, intensity, and comprehension. Screeeeeeech!"

Random soundtrack while writing that only personal thought :

Why am i thinking that this writing will fit as lyrics for the melody on "bullet the blue sky", eh try singing, speaking it. Ta tata tata, TA TA, ah ah

No Thing is important Now!

It's interesting to think how much there's nothing noticeable with me,
i am unremarkable, medium, average, (sometimes plus plus)
I heard about and graze a lot of different things but i'm not really good at anything,
I don't even have a job, i'm useless for society,
I'm definitely not pretty but i'm also not necessarily ugly in the way that i keep myself healthy,
I'm not talented in any way but i'm curious and kind,
(I got sometimes that line "you're a good person", and that's it,  nothing more, nothing less, nothing else, nothing exciting, how random, how prosaic!)
I can tell that i think outside the spiral, i'm like a free electron, fast and fragile, in its own space,
Never really attached to any group, my mind isn't gregarious, to support that belief that i can only trust myself alone, others will always be conjectures and question marks,
I feel an inner peace to be able to describe and assemble what would be my ideal world, the basic rules, in which i will act how i feel good to act with the absolute certainty that it's right for all and everyone (but without expecting it),
In my mind i can be unknown, unoticeable, unloved, like it is, and finally that state is an equilibrium,
it is even and stable, there's a peace to accept that,
to live with no need and to smile alone.
And at the same time to be open for humanity and the worlds to collapse over me.

Because no thing, no people, no object, no job, no art, no matter, wood, metal, flesh, paint, juice, blood, gold, no word, ink, paper, mail, song, book, no plant, no tree, no cloud, no air, no tatoo, no garment, no concept, no emotion, no move, no kiss, Lalalala, is more important than Being and respect Being in the simplest, Nothing!

"Why the removal of a pain brings less joy than the end of a joy brings pain? It is that when in grief you think about the happiness it deprives you, while when in happiness, you don't think about the suffering that spares you; it is that it is natural for you to be happy."

When you are happy you don't think about the woes that you avoid, but when you are unhappy you think about all the joys that you miss, and that's exactly what brings unhappiness, to be happy one must stop to want, to desir (for me "not desiring" doesn't mean being unable to enjoy things and people, there's a dimension of respect in "enjoy", "appreciate", that is not in "desire" which sounds rather tragic and brutal), stop also to possess, and project.

"That humans, until now, have been able to raise up to well-being, the very one allowing happiness, only by depending on others, by settling onto them, here is what we must not admit anymore. I also don't admit that the majority (the mass) has to renounce on this earth to that happiness born naturally from harmony."

("The phrases deceive us, because the language imposes on us more logic that there really is in life; the most precious of ourselves is what stays unformulated.")

Quotes from "Fruits of the Earth" by André GIDE

(Not easy for me to translate that high and clever piece of litterature, but it has so much impact in me i had to try to share it)

"Il me parut que le meilleur et plus sûr moyen de repandre autour de soi le bonheur était d'en donner soi même l'image, et je résolus d'être heureux."

André Gide, les nourritures terrestres

"It appeared to me that the best and safest way to spread happiness around oneself was to display this image oneself, and i decided to be happy."

André Gide, Fruits of the Earth

Here is something that i thought was funny, this candid interview with that guy that i knew very well to be a Hard-Rocker, a talented musician which i greatly enjoy the Art.
I wonder why he accepted to be interviewed by that little girl, he replies so honestly to the childish questions, that gives him a non-pretentious, non-serious, down to earth image, qualities that i certainly like in people.

To contrast here is to me what this guy, Neil FALLON, and his band "CLUTCH" can be,
BooM!!!

Theory try

Point de conditionnement : La beauté que l'on voit chez les autres est en reflet de ce que l'on pense de soi même.

Trait of conditioning : The beauty we see in others is a reflect of what we think of ourselves.


For example, my sister gives much importance to the face of the guys, particularly the eyes, she likes colored eyes, because that's a point she likes in herself too, her green eyes being obviously a seductive asset for her, but she's not too much concerned about the size of the body (well in reasonable proportion, my sister is very tough and difficult about others' appearance, just because she's probably greatly insecure in herself), because she's insecure with her body, being conscious that she doesn't have the silhouette displayed in magazines (though being very well proportioned), i think that's why she jumps on my case very often to say that i'm too slender, my body makes her self conscious of the size of her own body, which like i said she's not so much confident with, so she discredits what could be seen as fit and a norm of beauty just to reassure herself.

I myself for example like thin bodies because that's something i like in me first (for reasons i can explain about not over consuming anything as a core value), then also i like colored eyes on others because that's something i don't like in me, the color of my eyes being the plain and widespread brownish one, and i prefer originality above commonplace perceptions.

So about beauty everything that we assess is probably projected on us first, but rememeber that it's the mind, the thought, the ego, controlling that harsh conditioning, and a way to live out of thoughts is possible, to be much happier and more respectful, and see beauty everywhere without it burdening our own sense of self.

Not a fool

"Come on Mr Psychiatrist, you know very well that psychoactive drugs are useless, it never solves any problems, it's like putting deodorant on a bad smell, it doesn't heal nobody to the core, if you prescribe it, it's only because it's part of the system, it makes the big machine society works, it brings money to the already rich leaders, and it justifies those who take it to the eyes of the authorities that they are troublesome people that need to be watched over, maybe have some privileges, like taking a day out from work all suddenly, they are fragile and unreliable, so to make the best of that probable loss of money, society sells them tons of mind-numbing pills, and everyone should be happy, this is just a big corporate scam, Mr Psychiatrist."

All reversed, the trick of physical

I fell in so many relational traps these past years,
it's all reversed,
you follow a lead, innocently, thinking : "ok i'm going to be respectful",
share and spend time with that person who seems to be interested in you, though you know from the start, from observations, quick analysis and perceptions, that the both of you obviously don't have the same lifestyle, the same expectations, the same mentality, the same tastes, you even know there's no physical attraction on your side, but the other is kind of stalking you, softly insistent,
(and it's gratifying for someone with a low self esteem like me,)
so for her there must be something in you that makes her want to know more, and you don't reject her, again in that idea of being respectful,
so she continues to slither around,
nicely,
that's only your own fault, poor girl that you are leading astray without even realizing it, because all you want is being respectful and give the other a chance...
give yourself a chance, to feel something, to taste a piece of a happy moment, maybe at last something real.

I must trust my instinct, because i'm a good analyzer, i know so much what i'm attracted to, i tricked myself and those persons, (those girls, because with boys that dimension of attraction doesn't exist, it's easier to be pals)
only because i don't want to do to them what i don't want to be done to me, that is to be rejected.
But in the end i feel abused, here how it goes :

So, you spend this time, and when you talk, when you share, you are real, completely yourself, you keep no secret, you express your opinions, you are focused on the other, and that way the communication is always good, though you see the limits of what is matching, so you share only what can be shared not to be boring, until comes that pressing need, but not in you, the other is pressing, oh so quickly, no time to breathe in a relationship,
it's all reversed in me,
they are women and they are the ones pressing to get things on the physical level, i'm always caught by surprise at first, in those cases i knew from the start this is so much not what i wanted, why spoiling a sane relation, but it's my fault because i knew from the start i didn't want to go on that terrain with them, my values are to build something strong and it never goes through the physical first,
or only something sensual and romantic, that's how i am,
i don't understand why even women are so eager to offer themselves all so intimately, here it wasn't kissing and groping, it was all the way, every night,
so,
do they imagine that's how it must be to keep a man close to them?
offering him sex!,
damn this could never work with me, and it embarassed me, every night, me who only wanted a deep connection, and a real love.
I will know when i feel that deep attraction that will lead things out there, but nakedness is the last thing to consider if you want to forge a strong connection with someone.
I'm thinking, usually it's women that are abused like this by men, i need to trust my instinct, then guess what to do with my self knowledge, and find people who think before acting and who know why they act, why they come to me, come to me for themselves and with the idea to be real and create a real bond, i long for a real durable bond, i will give everything.

Utopia

Pour moi l'amour ne passe pas par le physique.
le respect, l'acceptation est amour
et tout ce dont j'ai besoin c'est d'amour.
Pour le physique il n'y en aura qu'une,
une qui regroupera tout ça à la fois.

For me love doesn't go through the physical.
Respect, acceptance is love
and all i need is love.
For the physical there will only be one,
one who will be all this at once.

There's one connection to fix, it is with myself.

who's to hate

This is shit! because i'm crying
Why do you sing, get out of my sight, i hate you
i hate you all
you swagger with your pretty voice, you nod your head
why that has to be so pretty, a round face with clean cheeks
not a blush, but a cheeky smile
everything is combed so neatly
the fold of a dress, the glaze of the hair
the adventurous look and your trousers so hype
you, and you, and you
boys and girls
your games, your attitudes,
your properness makes me want to puke
the talent you display, the congratulations
how is it heavenly possible
you jump so high, swollen muscles
you overcome, you cut through
you touch
and shoot an arrow in my chest
i'm horrified, ignored,
at least eat my carcass, drink my blood
don't leave me to rot, notice my admiration
offer me a dance, a slap, so i can hate you more
despise you, and dream of murder,
murder me
i'm petrified, i look down, to the stains on my boots
give high five to those of your clan,
shout, intoxicate, pleasure
take it, take it, cram yourself with it
choke on it
my eyes are set on you
i can't help to hide and watch
hypnotized, i'm weakened
by the beauty, and the stupidity
and i hate,
i hate to love you
admired ones.

And i hate you for not loving me.

that's what happens when i miss someone to love me, i replace love by hatred.
is that serious?! honestly, can it be?

(this is just a text, i'm being despicable sometimes and dullness is a bore)

Don't run after something that is not in you.

don't create separation through the ever unimportant knowledge

Knowledge, general, personal knowledge, is nothing more than data used by humans to tell stories when they meet, it's not a symbol of worth to differenciate human beings, one source of knowledge is never better than another, someone who plays video games all day will gather informations to tell stories, as well as someone watching the news all day, or someone studying ancient egypt all day, it's negative and untrue to try to put a judgment of worth on all the different forms of knowledge humans can store in their brains, no story is better than another, and a story is nothing more than a story, a mental projection, only made to stir and entertain, it can never be serious, it is just what it is, accept it, so the proper and conscious behavior a human can have is to be open and respectful, in order to be able to hear all the different stories people want to share, with amazement and interest, from that presence, set in the being of each, is born a bond between all humans, and love and entertainment is passed on, a careful and kind atmosphere is created, the important thing is to be, live and let live, life is not a competition, the ego in us wrongly compares because its weak and fearful of dying, life is unity and lightness.

Simple Psychology

People who criticize a lot, probably brood on a complex of inferiority.

Don't you expect Bad

"Pourquoi me regardez vous avec défiance, ne pouvez vous pas apprivoiser vos cœurs, et vous livrer, serein. Et toi quand tu partages, c'est toujours un élan passionné, comme si t'ouvrir était douloureux, et que tu doives meurtrir ta chair pour provoquer cette impulsion, comme résultat ces envolées peuvent être aussi bien positive que négative, ce qui laisse ton interlocuteur peureux de tes réactions dans un débat d'opinions, ou tout ce qui est trop personnel devient danger dans votre pauvre esprit bousculé."

"Why are you watching me with distrust, can't you tame your hearts, and deliver yourselves, serene.
And you when you share, it's always a passionate burst, as if opening yourself was painful, and that you must bruise your flesh to provoke this impulsion, as a result these sudden rises can be as well positive and loveful or negative and confrontational, which leaves your interlocutor fearful of your reactions in an exchange of views, where everything that is taken too personally becomes danger in your poor boggled minds."

Lay down, trust, and don't judge, no one here wants to harm you.

Bloody Pornography

Something to be disgusted of the animality in us, which controls sexual drives, the primal instinct, because i can also share pure hell, i'm watching at it, i'm studying it, i'm not affraid, and sex never creates a deep connection between two persons, it is produced by that filthy impulse, to which some succumb easier than others, and if you believe in the romantic link of the act between those two persons loving each others, like most women would want to, get real and notice that the act itself is only and nothing more than a drive, and what brings you to surrender yourself is the trust that you put primarily in yourself then in the other, so anyone can manipulate anyone to satisfy an ever new born drive, it can never make a deep connection, a deep sharing, it's only a momentary game of primal desires, oh so quickly passed. So build your relationships on this at your own risks (to be bored soon, or discover that you are crudely used), you are warned. And if you decide to watch the movie, then "Good Luck" not to throw up, or kill yourself afterwards.

A Serbian Film
(and don't think i got that analysis only by watching this horror, i've also got more realistic references, and i'm sorry if you are easily shocked)

Early years, youth trip (trip has two meanings)

I took that trip to the north, there was a rock festival, and that girl i wanted to meet, we were sharing that love for poetry on the internet, she said
"Come meet me at the last stop of the shuttles."
Trains, then a car, with my backpack, way up north.
I'm wandering in that harbour town, the sun is setting, frozen drops of rain are falling on the pier,
i'm searching, kind of lost, not knowing where to look at,
it's beautiful,
and dreadful,
the sky is grey and i'm drifting, where is she, time passes, a last sun ray pierces through the clouds to illuminate for a second the crescent sand beach, i leave to the actual place of the festival.
A set of huge patches of land cut by dirt pathes, far away from the city, far away from the first farm, it's slightly raining, it's late, and i notice, furtively, right before entering the domain, between rows of cars parked in a field, there's a sign with the word : "SHUTTLES" black on white, with a black frame.
So, that was here!
I know it's too late, even if she had waited under the rain for one hour
(which she did)
I paid my ticket, i leaned over the crowd, i let myself swing, in the waves of flesh and sweat, until the end of the night, i wore myself, and that band was playing, and she was here, somewhere, in that confusion of haze and mud, maybe so close, whispering "my sweet prince".
This is the story of a missed act, the chapter is over, close the book, the moon has shattered in the clinking of wine bottles and the eerie sound of moaning and electric guitares.

You want to know what i perceive when you say to us every week end :

"Cette semaine on s'est fait dépouiller au magazin."("This week at the store we were stripped bare."), with that verve in your voice, like it's almost grudge.

I want to say, this is part of the job, you work in a video game store, people come and go buying video games, some days there's not so many, some other days it's an endless rush, if you can't bear it then don't do that job, if you are affraid of people, if you are affraid to smile, just change it.
I understand you want to be reassured, that someone says : "Poor you, but you are doing an amazing job.", because it's difficult for you, talking to people, going before them to give them informations or inquire for what they are searching for, i know you, i know your self trust, your self esteem is low and easy to trigger, it's a challenge because you doubt yourself, and you fear that someone could jump on your case if you don't act or don't look like the customer wants, sometimes they are violent, but there's nothing i can do, you act for yourself, again if you can't bear it just don't do it, go away, it's not my choice, if it's such a distress for you, i can't pity you, but sure man, sure, i'm impressed, i am, you go there, and you're holding on, you do the job and it's lasting, you take the blow, you get out the rush, it comes and goes and you're alive, everyday, so in that sense it's a victory, you're a victor everyday, but that's for you to take it, i'm not in your shoes, be positive, be grateful that you are strong and living every day.

You want something out of me that i can't give, unconsciously, you must take responsibility, i will be there, i'll continue to meet you whatever the choice, whatever you do.

Depth in miniature, and a try at a new ability

(i hope that woman doesn't mind that i share here one of her videos, i actually like her a lot, she sounds kind and friendly, and i enjoy her close filmed tutorials)

Around seventeen minutes :

"To inspire yourself to paint is just quite easy, just grab your brush and start to paint, that is actually the only thing you have to do, start to paint... ...pack away all your stuff in one big box, and just grab one miniature, only one, and start to paint it, that's the only thing you have to do, each journey begins with a first step, and don't be affraid that you're not that good (at first) as any brilliant painter... ...don't fear that stage, just practice makes a good painter."

I was watching that video this morning, and some common words she spoke, stroke me as a deep inspirational truth, it sounds so casual, but here in a video about painting miniatures we can find some great words of wisdom, that can be applied to anything you want to do, to try, to start, all start by daring placing a first step, this is just so true.
I started painting miniatures because it was a present from two friends, they offered me a box of those (it's a long time they are into this and i was just watching from afar), it's an expensive hobby, that i wouldn't be able to support, and again the background of these is sci-fi so my mind doesn't take it seriously, but i dived into it, into the handwork, trying to forge a talent for painting, out of respect i wanted to do my best, i watched and watched hours of theory, and even if shaky at first i launched myself into taking a brush and paint, it is very time consuming, for now it takes three or four hours to me to paint one character, but though it seems a geeky passtime from afar, that activity has some great unsuspected traits, you have to watch the miniature carefully, under every angle, you mount it, and you get slowly acquainted to it, you get to know every detail, every crack, every recess, one character starts to have a personality, a temper, for you, it becomes intimate, personal, as you get to choose the colors and the different parts (like guns and tools) that will give him his attitude in the end, you place the shadows and the light, on the armor, on the skin, then the choice of color is important, for it to be well assorted and pretty, and at that step i spend quite a long time, rotating the figurine in my hand and imagining, assembling paterns in my mind with different colors trying to find an homogenous look for it, it's a lot like painting a canvas, you have to decide were you want the eyes of the viewer to wander on your work, what you want to pop out on your miniature, all this makes it complex, and finally highly intellectual, even kind of emotional, well that's how i sense it and i like it that way.

voices of a distant star

I've got that friend which is drawn into sci-fi and mecha(s) (giant robots), he mentioned he was searching for that short animation film that i found and watched tonight : Voices of a Distant star.
I realized while chatting with him this afternoon why i couldn't believe in the fantasy of sci-fi, in movies, books, comic strips, or whatever...
the technology depicted in those are simply unreachable for me, it can never ever exist, never ever be realizable one day, for me it's impossible, for one simple rule : the impossibility of having this much energy.
Everything that is shown in sci-fi : teleportation, tractive-beams, hyperspace travels, considering the rules of physics from that universe will require an energy that we don't have and that we can't master, maybe we can already pull one atom at the expense of huge energy but moving a whole spaceship or simply a car thanks to a tractive-beam is inconceivable for me, and even if we probably haven't found all the interactions of matter, the reactions, some phenomenon that are still unexplained, some unknown rules of physics, this won't erase the fact that an extraordinary amount of energy is required, so unless we find a miraculously strong and abundant source of energy somewhere (and i think we mainly rummaged the whole planet by now) it is definitely impossible to realize those sci-fi feats, but i'm far from an expert and this is only my opinion;
What i wanted to point out is that because for me what is displayed in those shows is clearly unrealizable then it has no depth value, it's only entertainment and not something that i can take and store as a truth in my brain, and because i am highly interested in the explanations of the actual reality i tend to skip the sci-fi craziness and consider it as funny but unreliable.

This brings me back to that short film, full of sci-fi nonsense and giant robots, but there's something that caught me in it, the beauty of two persons who decide they will love each other no matter the obstacles, the distance, even defying physical time, there's something soft and melancholy, some piano notes, so light that we hardly hear it, in the end it is cheesy, and surely the point of view of a romantic male, but why not tonight, let's drift in space and open our hearts to indestructible love.

http://www.veoh.com/watch/v632651BKHPaN6M?h1=Voices+Of+A+Distant+Star

And a melody to lull you into that dream : voices 
(i picked one here but really many tracks are very touching for me)

Bonus screenshots that i found interesting to link all this to reality.