"I"

"I" is a fiction built upon the though that without Others we are something.
The fall of a tree in the forest is noiseless because there's no one there to listen.
The physical phenomenon is of no importance.
Presence is the worthy and all justifying variable.
Not the presence of the fictionnal "I"
But the presence of the Others that make the fiction real.
For what is a fiction without an audience?
And what is an audience without an author?
What are the Others without the "I"?
What is the "I" without the Others?
Nothing.
To exist is to be present.
To be present is to relate.
Existince Is relation.
Built bridges.
Broken bridges.
Untended bridges.
And Me?
What am I without
You?
And Me?
What am I without
"I"?

Whatever is it that "I" am,
Hope to
C you around

Violent Poetry - Horreur du Vide

This is a text I already published on Facebook, but the topic of "Violent Poetry" just came to my mind today and so I decided to have a go at it and "Horreur du Vide" was already writen, which turned out handy.
I will on occasion post other stuff - be warned, I don't write on a regular basis and seldom happy thoughts...
Most of the times you just get sadness over something, it's my way of ridding myself of troublesome feelings...
Here it goes, for what it's worth.


Horreur du Vide

Que le jour de ma naissance soit oublié

Que ce jour devienne un jour de ténèbres

Que la lumière n'y soit pas

Que le noir le plus profond l'embrasse dans son sein

Qu'une éclipse solaire le torture

Que les ténèbres y emportent la nuit

Qu'il ne puisse pas trouver sa place

Dans la séquence des jours et des mois

Que sa nuit soit stérile

Une nuit sans un son de joie

Que ceux qu'y éveillent la lumière maudissent ce jour

Que les étoiles du matin n'y voient pas le soleil

Que les premiers rayons de soleil ne chauffent pas sa nuit

Qu'il n'ouvre pas les portes au ventre de ma mère

Quand je suis arrivé au Monde

Des cuisses n'auraient pas dû m'accueillir

Des seins n'auraient pas dû me nourrir

Pourquoi ne suis-je pas mort dans ses bras?

J’aurais été enterré, jeté comme un avorton

Comme un enfant qui n'a jamais vu la lumière

Je n'aurais jamais connu la plénitude

Pour la perdre après et vivre

l'Horreur du Vide

C you around...

window to the world

is this my new window to the world?

i regret already having shared this url with too many ppl, I already feel restricted in what i write or not
in the long term i suppose it is of no importance, i woun't give a fuck if someone reads what i wrote in the past

but right now i feel like writing about sex, emotions, decisions and life and this won't be the place to do it anymore - too many potential readers

i do ask myself what's the point of a blog, then...
...i suppose it replaces the (now) old-fashioned intimate journal, but being accessible to a lot of different ppl through our own modern ocean we so like to surf, it becomes kind of pointless... besides, i type faster than i write, nowadays...

what pushes ppl to bare their souls for the world to see?

why am i doing this and feeling the need to do it?

do i need to communicate that badly? whom am i writing to? do i expect answers?

my present answer to all my questions is just i don't know

this is not my first "unconfort" post in this blog, and i tire of this ranting myself...

i have a plan for this blog - i'll be using it to write the "book" i've been telling myself for years i shall write

the one where the action takes place in two different places and three different epochs in time, where cause and relation do not follow logic, where the flap of butterfly wings just cause a sceptic to fall from his pedestal and look for a soft bosom to lay his head on

i believe i'll start doing that as of my next post

and i might (or not) start a new, more personnal blog sans readers, where i'll be abble to express myself without fearing the consequences or the impact of my words on others

i'll think about that one, because i can achieve the same feeling of pouring my soul to the paper just writing a doc file...

in any case, this blog will keep on living, at least for a while, so

C you around

Life, music and dreams

I took a couple of days off, which means I'm home for four full days in a row.
I didn't have the kids around this weekend;

Just spent some time by myself, getting up to date with sleep (it's been a rough couple of months on that department, been chatting around an awful lot with an insomniac lovely lady and I get up early in the morning...), reading a few pages, surfing, job hunting, no serious stuff.

I actually don't know that much where I'm going right now...

Should I stay at the sofa, hit the kitchen table?

I'm talking about Life in general...

I have some important decisions to make, some regarding money, some regarding family. I quit trying to decide anything about love because it never ever turns out the way I want expect.

But all of the above are getting me in a turmoil.

I once wrote - and if I didn't write it I told it to a lot of people, I'm sure - the only way (for me, up to now) to get over someone is to find the next one.

I NEED to find that next one.

The good part in this is that intelectually I know exactly where I am, but this sack of blood, shit, sperm and bones is not that good at acknowledging what the mind tells it (a bit like a slam by Grands Corps Malade http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EvmG8vjm-Q8).

I live a period in life where problems (money, divorce, etc) are starting to untangle, where I have people who care for me and people I care for, but I'm not happy and I don't like it.

Better yet, I decided to do something about it.

I just don't know what!

It would be a lot easier if the people I care for and the people that care for me were one and the same, so I guess that should be my priority.

But I told you before I stopped trying in that department, due to that want expectectations issue.

Life isn't made of dreams, even if I sometimes wish it were.

In the mean time, I've got my books and my music and someone to talk to and have interesting conversations, so I'll just make the best out of it while I don't reach a conclusion.

You'll be in it, for certain, whichever it is.

C you around

Life?

No fundamental topic today.
Again.
My blog is a little bit like my life, it doesn't know that much where to go.
Well, it's worse for my blog than for my life.
I know what I want out of life at least, which is more than what I know about my blog.
Doesn't mean I can get it, though.
Doesn't even look like I am going to, not for the time being at least.
But as with most things in life, it takes time.
And as with everything that takes time doing, it's probably worth  the wait.
I very much hope so.
Anyway, I'd continue writing, but my red tabby is up and around messing things up.
I guess he wants to go outside, so I have to take my leave.

C you around

IV. Virtual vs Real

In a previous post I asked myself about the interaction of the virtual and "real" life of each individual.
In this one I play on a graver register - the virtual world menaces to take over the real one, in order to maintain people in a perpetual state of allertness and fear, without time to think by themselves and for themselves...

I find no better way to translate this than by posting a video of Toulouse based electro-punks Punish Yourself, in a not so subtle metaphore on how the media manipulates our collective minds...

You don't like the music? Fine by me, I do have peculiar musical tastes. But listen to the message in it, research, draw your own conclusions, think for yourself.

Don't let their virtuality become your reality.

C you around

II. The meaning of (virtual) life

Interesting case study.

I know from personnal experience how behaviour changes when communicators are hidden behind their screens.

Everything seems easier, there's less diffidence, it becomes possible to unveil parts of yourself that would normally trigger feelings of apprehension, lack of comfort, awkwardness...

I even experienced this with my own brother - that was strange.

All our screens (netbooks, tablets, PC's, smartphones, even the classic mobile phones and their small sized screens) allow us to communicate via text, audio and/or video, but with an added frontier - the ilusion of proximity is impossible, there's no heat, no physical contact, no smell, what one can see is controled by the users.

What does all this say about us?

How come are there people thriving in this fashion?

Are they any different for that in the real (as opposed to virtual) world?

Am I?

Some of the people I care for right now are people I met this way - I felt trapped in the real world, couldn't reach others, new people, new stories, new knowledge to share.

So, maybe I'm asking to be read, and I write all this as a testimony to myself or maybe I'm just blabering some incoherent nonsense that will never be read - "god" knows there's no structure and no guideline to what I write, most of the times...

C you around