Auguste Automne

2 Bulmers

2011-04-29T19:13:00.002-04:00

Beethoven's 5th Symphony resonates loudly in this dark room. The lights have burned out, the night has fallen. Today, a prince and a commoner have gotten married. While this happened I was sleeping and doing the laundry. Now what do I want to do? Hangout with a bunch of Aussies... but what if they get tired from work and want me to leave?

Hmmm....

Another Walk

2011-02-11T19:46:00.003-05:00

I was just walking on Thames enjoying myself. I’ve just arrived at the Tower of London to sit down and write a few thoughts.
I’m finding that some things make me happy and others don’t. That’s fairly simple. I realize that I am a unique human being, that my needs are quite my own and that if they are not like anybody elses… there’s nothing wrong. What if I would rather walk around at night without a worry? Do that instead of try my hardest to make friends in pubs. What if I rather meet people, smile, chat, and leave it at that, instead of try to make them my friends. I’d rather if friendships snuck up on me. I’m not saying I’d rather stop going to events, stop seeing people, stop going out, but don’t go out if you’re not up for it! I don’t have to be up for it the way many travellers are up for practically anything.

I’d love to meet someone who’d enjoy taking walks like these, and laughing. I don’t know where or how. I will meet some though, it’s not like I’ve got to meet everyone now. There is no pressure and that is a comfortable thought.
Anyways it’s late, the tube closes soon, my computer is going to die [/save] so I bid you good night. I love you. Thank you for reading. Enjoy life as I do, in strange ways.

Maybe I Sigh

2011-02-11T16:17:00.001-05:00

But it's not so bad.

C'est que y'a comme une langue Québécoise qui me manque.

I Have Work to Do

2011-02-08T12:33:00.002-05:00

Getting hopped up. Over thinking. The rationalities of living in the city. Of trying to survive. I’ve got a job now. So I feel less alien. I’ve decided to let go as well. Let go of the one I love. No. Let go of trying to love. Let go of trying to try. Let go of trying to let go. I’ll only heal, I’ll only stop going in circles, whence I learn to let go. No stupid distractions. Unless they make mon Bonheur.

Dear Love, talking about you feels stupid.

Follow your heart sounds cliché.

Mine is a cautionary tale.

I can’t write passion.

I have passion.

Oh God…

By the way, this is me at work (At the Old Red Lion) :)

And this is what I see out of the window (High Holborn Street)!

Where will it all Lead Me?

2011-01-30T14:30:00.004-05:00

Another day, another park, another lamp post. Speaking of post, that’s what the office I was looking for specializes in.

I’m glad I’ve found this park. Green Park. But honestly, it’s been 3 days I want to send out these postcards and I don’t know where to go. Perhaps I’ll go and say it, despite my pride, but here I go… googlemaps and London are

a pair made in Hell. They just create more confusion together. I’m going to keep using googlemaps but I can expect to get lost numerous more times. I’m not really lost though. I know how to get back home with ease, I just can’t find that damned post office.

This weekend has been a very slow yet very satisfying one. The hostel I’m staying in, the Phoenix, is so far from the corporate, businessy, traveller-mongering hostel that Generator was for instance. If it wasn’t for this bloody dry cough I’d actually sleep really well at night. It’s kind of dirty and all, but it’s homely, I like it. It lacks pretention which is nice. It’s in a nice pub-like place. The people are nice. Anyways…

If I don’t find a place to live any time soon I’ll probably book more nights there. I’ve only got one more night, then it’s Monday and I’m on the streets again. It’s getting easier on me though. At the same time, I get this impression that the things I miss back home, the people I love, my idol, are all starting to drift away… forever!

It’s not as scary as it is unwanted. I just don’t want that to happen. But what if better things await here? Should I let go and forget everyone and live here to the fullest, get attached, change my life’s purpose? Should I at least try?

I’m sticking around that’s for sure but I think I would like to keep a foot back home. I don’t think I will be able to call this place home. When I will talk of ‘home’ I will always refer to my homeland. When I’ll come back, I probably won’t be living with Mum and Dad anymore… so that can’t be home anymore, but being near them is home enough. I am ready to start my own life. But must it be here? I’m happy here, but not as a resident, more as a visitor, a friend, a great friend, a friend that sleeps over, that gives gifts, that writes songs to, but that must obviously head back home and take care of what he has over there.

What will home turn into? Will it transform through time? Will I even notice? Only in hindsight. Will I read this one day and realize that I

was wrong, that home could be somewhere else? Will I fall in love, something unforeseen, much stronger than what I feel now?

Again. I’m happy though. I’m not settling for less than what makes me happy. So I’m keeping a foot back ‘home’.

I had Lunch with a Swan

2011-01-29T12:27:00.004-05:00

Just to say... I guess this is how people start to become pigeon people....

Not Lost in Hyde Park

2011-01-28T05:16:00.005-05:00

Walking through Hyde park I feel quite sacred. It’s night time and the temperature is autumn-like and perfect. I do little of my days and it’s weighing down on me so it’s ironic that my favourite moments are the ones when nothing productive happens any more but I visit the most beautiful places in London. I must say I do remember now why I came to London in the first place. It was for aesthetic reasons. Why have I not been striving to fulfill them? Trying so hard, so blindly to start a life? I should be trying to figure out who I am. I didn’t come here because I had to work. I came here to find what beauty was mine, is me, and perhaps find out how I might share it with you, with the world, with those I love. If I can sustain myself, stay alive, and then visit the most wondrous places I will be happy. I know one must wake up from dreams, so my walk in Hyde Park will end soon enough, there are many hardships ahead, but I’m proud to be able to feel the way I feel now. If only there was a way to make this my life. Sleep in the park if I'm stranded in the streets! I’m glad to admit though, that when I do wake up from my dream I will remain happy (In-script addendum: Despite the fact that I got lost once I left the park and that bothered me a little bit…)

Now the wind is blowing, it’s getting quite eerie. There’s no one around but I’m afraid someone will come out of the blue and mug me so I’ll finish this inside. I’ll be talking about fences and secret worlds.

I walked out of Hyde Park on the verge of tears I was so moved! The dark winter trees in the distance across black fields of grass, and people far away, little shadows walking to places unknown. The dead leaves on the ground dancing in the wind like waves making soft rustling noises.

And at first I was afraid I was not going to be able to come into the park at all. For some reason when I came out of Queensway station and walked along the park fence, all the gates were closed. Perhaps they shut them at night or perhaps they never open them. Either way I had given up the idea of walking through the greens. I kept looking over the fence wistfully, looking into the pitch darkness on the other side, wondering what kind of secrets lay there. Was there a secret world fenced-in so Londoners could not get in. The fact that the fences were old mossy brick with iron bars really heightened that spirit. I was tempted to jump over the fence, my heart would have loved it, but I was shutting him up at that point.

Then I found an open gate. Walked passed it (stupidly) Told myself I would simply go into the park another day when it would be light out (Though this was all at night… I wonder how it is in the day. Probably still nice, but not quite as magical…). But luckily there was another gate open where I saw others walk in. I walked in too.

I did listen to my heart though, that time when it told me to walk through the grass (step off the path) and follow the light post, which I did (after hesitating). As always my heart was right. That is where I discovered the whole greatness of Hyde Park.

sniff Homesick cough

2011-01-26T08:01:00.006-05:00

So the night began by me starting to feel sick. My throat was hurting and my face was hot. Damn it! That guy who'd been coughing below me in the bunk bed for 3 days has gotten me sick! Whatever, I'll get over this by pretending it's not there. So I went to the hostel bar to drink a pint or 2 before going out on London.

I'm always sort of awkward when I'm in bars, or in public. When I'm my own generally. I thought I had grown out of it but no, if I'm uncomfortable I feel like the smallest thing around. Though most people in hostels are ages 18-25, I always feel 15 when I'm around them. I even thought I was tipsy enough to start a conversation with these two ladies but yah... that was awkward.

So I moved on. I wanted to find a good pub or club to hangout in and make some British friends. Boy is London generally not a night life kind of place. And you know what, I don't think I am either. Anyways, after about an hour of walking around Soho I finally found a decent looking club with a line up of young people so I queued up too. "Is this a good club?" I asked someone going in and she said it was. In hindsight it w

asn't really. It was kind of like a dance party at the Club Optimist back home only... a little bit more "official" oh and there was booze.

Anyways, I tried making friends with the graduates but most of them were cold and huddled in their groups. Even on the dance floor everyone was rather uptight and turned around on themselves. Alright, I get it, you can't go out alone in London. I'm going to leave then... It's 1 in the morning, but I know my night bus, it's N7... I

'll be fine. So I go to pick up my coat but I can't find my number. Will this matter? Of course not... What do you mean I can't pick up my cot without a number? Oh come on, I know which one it is... I have to wait 'til the night is up to pick it up... 3:30 am?

I was going to sit around and wait, but then these Spaniards kept picking me up to dance, I felt like their play thing... blabla dancing, I'm a funny little monkey.... Then one day it was 3:30 I got my coat. It felt amazing to have it on me, like I was back home for a moment, and then I was out.

Now, the N7 bus passes on Wardour street, so I had to find Wardour street. Then I had to find the bus stop. I had to buy a ticket because my week-pass had just terminated, 2.50£. Then wait for the bus, hiccuping, sniveling, coughing, humming a tune. And then the bus appears in the distance and I hold out my hand to say, 'yo, pick me up!' AND IT JUST PASSES BY ME!! OI! So I start running after it like 'I don't know how to get back home!!' I got scared for a while that I would get lost and wander 'til the tube stations worked again, though I am proud to say I have found my way back with little trouble :).

Then I went to bed and woke up very sick :(.

Me not following my heart's impulses.

I'm sick and homesick. I'm wondering if I want to stick around in London. Why did I even want to come here? The nightlife? Changing my own life. Figuring out how to live on my own? Figuring out who I am and what I want to do with myself. I thought this place was beautiful compared to home, but I haven't even had the chance (or taken it) to appreciate the beauty. I wanted to live the fast life, but now I'm not so sure. I think I'd like to live the slow life in the country, should I follow that lead then? I think I'd like to meet people like me, people who might find me loveable. Being homesick has made all my unloveable sides flare up. I'm absolutely not trying to make friends or get a job. Those are signs of depression. I keep dreaming of home at night. I miss it.

I guess that's being homesick. It'll pass. I'm not going home 'til I'm happy here.

Being Scared and Bad Habits

2011-01-21T17:21:00.002-05:00

Me in my hostel bed, on the top bunk above someone who keeps coughing...

It’s strange. I came here and it felt like I’d gone back 2 years psychologically. Sure I had to adapt, I still do, but it was all the programming, all the uncertainty, all this scrabbling to get attached to something. I have not come here to get attached (unless my heart dictates it). I know when my heart has not attached me when I feel like an absolute coward, not the powerful, passionate man who left home for an unknown life. I feel young, short, and different. But I’ll keep feeling that way if I think about it, if I mull. I’m here to live! I’m in a new country, I’m not home, I’m all alone… practically free and so goodbye to conventionality, goodbye to safety, hello me… hello beautiful London, beautiful UK.

I’d like to meet other passionate people!

London Chronicles :O

2011-01-19T11:46:00.002-05:00

Spotted crows, swans, black swans, and pigeons. I just saw a crow rib a squirrel but then steal his hidden peanut.

I just walked by the parliament. It was gold in the sunlight, spectacularly gold. And it rang, 3 times because it’s 3 o’clock. I never expected that. So I am pleasantly surprised whilst I write this sitting in a park bench. There’s the most wonderful wind blowing, the kind of wind I so covet all the time… and it’s only my second day here.

The Bremen mask is taking place in front of me right now and for real! Papa duck is yapping about, like a little tune, and there follows his disciple-like family in a single file.

See, if country-side London looks like this I will be complete because right now this expression I used to say is ringing so familiar. I just want to lay down in the grass and die. What’s quite enjoyable about the city is the busy-bee, quirky, and citybound londoners walking through and talking their day-to-day talk. They say wonderful things and since I’m so high on this environment it sounds probably nicer. In fact, this amalgam is perfect. A London park is… perfect! A London park in January is deadly perfect.Gosh I don’t even know the name of the park, though it’s probably something famous as it’s right by the parliament.

It’s a sad thought that I will have to leave soon, my battery is dying and I have to go to the loo and then I’ll have to start looking for a job, get a job have less free time to enjoy this space. In a way that might be good too so I never get jaded… as though I could get jaded.

I’m almost invisible, all thee people walk by… it’s quite like a film.

P.S. Old ladies smile at me J 2 today… such life-loving old women.

Where my Mind and Tales Currently Rome

2010-11-05T23:37:00.005-04:00

I have not made a blog post in eternity.

I just want to say that life and writing a novel are really quite similar, and sometimes you're in the middle of a novel and an assessment of what you've done and what direction you've taken is necessary to continue in the right direction. This middle part is often very rough and doubt ridden but always so enriching. Life isn't like the novel so much because while a novel might need many assessments life can require them quite more many times.

I think in a sort of synchronicity many people involved in my life and many events in my life are currently in the middle part of the process. It's tough, it makes us question ourselves, it makes us say things we don't mean, and all for the sake of evolution and that growth is beautiful...

Oh yeah, by the way, I'm half way done my first draft of 'Orville's Recipe'. I really went awry with it though. It was killing me and I couldn't figure out why. I was totally writing in the wrong direction, making all the mistakes possible. I've remedied to that somewhat. I still don't feel this is the project I should have undertaken at this point in my life considering the demons I must exorcise but I'm going to finish it non-the-less. I am learning a great deal from it despite this looming sense of self-loathing it hangs over my head.

Happy Nano anyone! :D

Good Dreams

2010-08-28T22:48:00.001-04:00

Word Count

2010-08-18T09:23:00.002-04:00

Totally Fantastic! I haven't yet reached the middle of my rough draft. I'm about 30% of the way there. So I'm not really far in my novel which now has the title 'Orville's Recipe'. I don't write everyday and I've got a small word goal. It's a shame and I can find a bunch of excuses but I don't feel like owning them. To be honest I should just write without question, even if it is just 600 words a day. Once I get into a habit of writing 600 words a day I'll increase the pace to 1000 and then maybe more.

I think it's a question of organisation. I will get all my projects and responsabilities in order and then I will move along more smoothly.

Anyone interested in my novel? The main character, Sorel, is being blamed for his master's murder. He's decided to run away and get himself out of this mess. Thing is, if that's how he wants to get out of this mess he's going to have to get into an even greater mess.

It Felt Real

2010-07-27T21:52:00.000-04:00

I haven't managed this much before, and it wasn't that big today, but I've done it non-the-less and I expect things to get more emotional on my part with experience. I was afraid today. My heart sank and I had cold sweats. That's because I've killed off one of my characters. When I had not written him out yet, I knew he would die but I did not feel too strongly about it. Now that I knew him and came to love him, to hear his daughter's shrilling screams for help made me feel so sad for her and my protagonist.

I've hit a problem now though. The dead man's daughter was supposed to blame my protagonist for the murder, but I don't think she can do that in the state she's in right now... In fact, I think I've made her too loveable. I'll let my muse play with that then.

(Ay, I also made the death scene much more gruesome than anticipated... like blood and chunks of body missing... It's a surprise my story is about delicious egg yolks and ham).

This Blog Post is Pointless

2010-07-17T17:41:00.003-04:00

This blog post is pointless.

(It took me over a month to write figure this post out and find it in me to post it, all without pictures or anything fancy. This description is a bit much though)

I'm Alive and Alive

2010-07-15T20:58:00.006-04:00

Oh yes! First of all, I'd like to mention that I will not be posting anymore survey questions... I know I haven't written much at all lately but... let's face it, filling space with survey questions was sorta lame on my part.

Second of all, I'd like to mention as well that I'm finally a student of Holly Lisle's and her course How to Think Sideways is a beautiful gem! My peers are just the most wonderful people! I'm learning a lot, some theory, some inside of me.

I'll be writing a novel with some intriguing magical food and some gruelling villains (I've put my fanfiction on the back burner though I'm still quite looking forward to getting it done). I'm on and off in enthousiasm about it, still struggling to find my voice. As always, it's a question of perspectives though, and ever since the summer started, I've lost many things and people that tied me to a sticky image I had of myself, and now I'm almost free to discover who I really am and that's been freeing.

I was planning a great big trip in my life for Autumn, but I've postponed it as a creative writing and life teacher has offered me to attend her courses in college for the Fall semester. My great big trip will be for after Christmas then... More on that later hehe!

16. What’s your favorite setting for your characters?

2010-06-22T18:30:00.002-04:00

My favorite setting involves an off-beat world, where there may or may not be traces of magic, with sublime aesthetic attention both in the perfection and the flaws (and I love flaws. Rust and dust are my friends), wooden sotre-fronts and steam powered trains, with towns of various sizes with forests nearby... It's a wild and organic world with complex humanity making its way inside and absurd soul puppeteering the whole tone.

I've got many stories brewing in my mind setting themselves in a world like this.

15. Ever written romance or Angsty teen drama?

2010-06-16T19:59:00.000-04:00

I have not. I had ideas for some, but I never got around to do them (Though Brady's tale was almost angsty teen drama haha!). I don't feel good writing these unless something greater is taking place. I like to go into complex characters and relationships and drama. Angst is somewhat petty from a mainstream perspective and I don't want to settle into something we always see.

I haven't found my voice to express my own angst quite well yet or my perspective on the unique, complex, and undocumented side of teenagehood. Though if my characters are undergoing similar things I undergo in life I will have trouble letting go of the petty and abandoning myself to what truth is to me.

14. What’s everyone else’s favorite story you’ve ever written?

2010-06-02T16:03:00.002-04:00

Considering the fact that I haven't shown much of my work to anybody (Sadly... but it's all that self-esteem issue. I think it would make me feel better to have some criticism. Anyways, that step is in my future plans of things to do), their favorite story will probably be one I wrote for school. The one most read is Scurry Ashes, I won an award for it, though it never really rang beautifully inside of me (Short Stories tend to do that).

I showed my Utopia story to a few people, Stop and Stare, Eat the Fish, I Forgot to Close the Window, and my teacher loved it, the people who read it loved it, and frankly, I love it too, so the favorite one is probably that one.

13. What’s your favorite thing you’ve ever written?

2010-05-31T13:42:00.004-04:00

Currently it deffinately be These Children are Immortal because it's a story I wrote staying more honest to myself than ever before and believing in myself.

I was very excited when I jumped into that project. It feels heavy to me now though...

I'll be fixing it up when I find the time, setting it up for draft number 2, and I'll hopefully rediscover all the love I had for it once.

I do have ideas for projects that I will hold dearer but for now it is spiffy fine!

12. Do you ever go back to an idea after you abandon it?

2010-05-28T21:36:00.001-04:00

I have never done this yet, but I don't see myself not ever doing it. Actually, as I've said before, I keep all of my scrap notes and snippets of writing just in case one day I choose to go back to them.

MONEY MONEY OMNOMEY!!

2010-05-24T20:08:00.002-04:00

Well... I got a job. I'm now a dishwasher. I'm not sure what to expect. I start tomorrow so I'm doing my best to build my optimism and positivism. Hope in the midst of work I find fulfilling challenges and obstacles...

Does this Entry Count?

2010-05-17T11:02:00.004-04:00

There's an issue with goal making... that is, I'm quite horrible at it. Ever since the month started I've been working on that Harry Potter fanfiction and yet I haven't written a single word of prose. I have been busy though, researching tedious details to make sure I get as close to the canonical Harry Potter as possible, but all this often feels pointless, vain, a good excuse not to write, etc.

In fact it is extremely important that I perform all that research; if I don't do it now I would have had to do it later. The feeling of inadequacy derives mainly from the fact, yet again, that I am unemployed and it feels like I am taking all this time for granted (How would I do all that research if I had day work to do), it's also because I don't take the time to write everyday (I tend to take the massive note taking and research as writing). It doesn't really matter what I write or how much I write but I have to write. If I feel I haven't been fulfilling my goals (Firstly because I don't know how to consider research as a goal. All month I've been telling myself "Today I'm going to write" completely overlooking the ominous researching) it's probably because I haven't been taking a moment to write, and Lord I have tons of things to write so what am I waiting for?

I discovered this wonderful website, which will come in handy in calming the storm of anxiety from lack of goal achievement. It is called OneWord, one word appears and inspires you and you then have 60 seconds to write up what desires to come out. For days where I haven't found time to write or haven't been writing, this little exercise is highly soothing.

Marionette on the Bookshelf

2010-05-10T15:00:00.003-04:00

Well, My blog is now headed with a new header, made by me. It's not quite the quality I wanted it to be...

It's not quite completed but I have been working on and off on this and I wanted to show it's current situation. It was hard to make as I had to scan so many images and make so many layers... I wanted originally to make it all on paper and then scan it in but I ended up coloring it on photoshop seeing as I haven't got the equipment or a clue how to watercolor...

I'll keep practicing though. As I bring changes to this new header I will keep updating it. Hope you like it.

11. Do you save everything you write?

2010-05-08T12:03:00.002-04:00

Oh, I try, but I'm a pack rat, and an untidy one. I usually can't find all that I write, or I don't know where to put it, and I don't know why to keep it. I feel heavy when I think about all the lying paper and feel miserable at the thought of throwing a page out in case I find it has the answer to life on it one day... In any case, I really do hope to find a way to get organized one day and know where to find the good stuff, the potential rich stuff, the not too shabby ideas, the crap for laughs, etc!

On a side note, I absolutely hate the telephone. I know it's unrelated but I have to call this person to apply for a job and I feel completely helpless. The thought of calling makes me nervous and sad. I never know what to say on the phone, especially if I plan it out, and I have to make a good impression don't I? Phoning people, even people I know well, is the death of me. I'm even considering not trying to get this job because of this stupid stupid obstacle. It'd be a great job too, I have experience in washing dishes, I love being in the kitchen, it's a small enterprise, it's near my home, it's full time... But F***!

10. Do you type or write by hand?

2010-05-03T14:05:00.003-04:00

First drafts and thoughts and notes and all those preproduction papers are usually always written by hand. Though I put less words on the page and write incredibly slowlyer, my thoughts are clearer and more maleable. Then I take that tedious extra time (like an hour per 1000 words) to type everything up.

I'm not sure whether I would write by hand or type a second draft yet, I've only done first draft to final draft up to now.

Oh, and for things that have deadlines like Nanowrimo and ScriptFrenzy I just type, cause transferring 50 000 written words onto the computer would be death. (Though when I can't reach a computer on a ceratin day I will write by hand, though this chops out so much time once I have to type it all up, I can't miss out on a day). Luckily (Unluckily 'cause it was devoid of any challenge) this year's script frenzy I never had to write by hand in some strange place... I always had my computer.

9. Write fan fiction?

2010-05-01T17:35:00.006-04:00

What a perfect subject for the first of the month. In fact, I am writing a fan fiction right now and it is my monthly project. I was wondering what project to jump into after a month of writing a 100-page screenplay. I didn't want anything too heavy and I had a fan fiction project marinating inside my head for a while now. There you have it, a light, exciting, but non-the-less educational (for myself most of all) fan fiction.

It is a Harry Potter fan fiction. Common trite you say? Maybe, but I am in love with J. K. Rowling's world and am quite sad I can't write from that world for the entirety of my career (Well I could, I'm afraid the income would be minimal though. Aya!).

You will have on cyberspace, sometime starting this month, the chronicles of the life of Icarus Fairchild. It's set in Hogwarts when Professor Dumbledor himself was a student. Icarus Fairchild is not quite like Harry Potter's tale, it could be canon, and it exploits the magical world as much as possible without being forceful.

In any case, I can't wait to start publishing. I do hope to get a lot of criticism. The bad, to learn to live with it. The good, to keep learning this craft of possibilities that is writing. It would be nice to build a little network as well.

There is much to learn from writing fan fictions. I've decided to throw my reticence aside and go for it. Fan fictions aren't only for fun, they are just as much a learning tool for the aspiring author as writing short stories would be. And they are a great source of fun for the hardcore fan... which I am... hehe

Just on a side note, I am not the kind of person that would write a fan fiction for any good ol' story that I enjoyed. No. I have to be crazy about it, an uber nerd about it. The Legend of Zelda is another good example of something I might write fanfic to (Cause I'm an uber geek for it. That series moves me sooo much). In fact, I have a Zelda fanfic strutting inside of me... first things first though!

PS. Harry Potter and Zelda are the most fanficked franchises... I know I'm the greater fan though. Hehe.

Frenzy's Done and Done

2010-04-27T09:06:00.004-04:00

My screenplay of Perloo the Bold is now officially completed at 100 pages exactly. The PDF file I used to validate my score had a blank sheet on it at the end. I felt terrible and took no joy from having won because of this so I went back to my script and spent another hour reformatting even though I'd already spent two hours earlier also reformatting.

So I'm done now... what do I do? I'm going to start another project, or maybe more than one, since I have all the time in the world. I would really love it if I could get a job though because there are projects I would love to try out but I haven't got the materials... like painting and I'd like to give a go at watercolors... oh and I need to buy something, who knows what, to get organized. I think I would feel greater when accomplishing goals if I was organized and could see where I was going.

Next script frenzy I shall not adapt a novel. I stay too attatched to the novel, it becomes very easy and passive. Next time I will venture into the unknown. Then I might really feel it... the frenzy that is.

8. How often do you get writer’s block?

2010-04-25T17:17:00.005-04:00

Writer's block has not happened to me much since I've started to write seriously... seriously being already pretty laidback. I'm a slow worker and so I get up and walk and dance and make tea and play games a lot in a writing day, but the writing keeps coming.

Lately it hasn't been so much writer's block as a fear of finishing too early. I'm talking about script frenzy. I've been shredded apart between keeping my pace everyday or putting obstacles in my way on purpose. I'm scared of something and I can't quite put my finger on it. In any case, I've completed my scrrenplay but I'm for pages under the 100 pages goal... Perhaps I haven't taken enough time on this project... Rah.

7. Coolest plot twist you’ve ever created?

2010-04-21T18:35:00.003-04:00

A plot twist I was extremely fond of when I came up with it was this: the main antagonist of a story of mine was actually a puppet to his wife who is made prisoner to him and wishes to free herself. She has lead him into war with the mortals so that a mortal artifact that would free her would be brought to her. What's cool about it is that a bunch of characters throughout the story don't quite fit in with the antagonist and feel like seperate third parties being helpful and disadvantaging to the protagonists sporadically. You can't guess why they do it but they work for the wife. In fact, the first 'good' guy to bring up the eminent war conflict is actually a bad guy, and when you find out you think he works for the main antagonist but...!

Five Recent Contemplations and Wow that's a Nice Photo

2010-04-17T16:06:00.002-04:00

There’s a spider living in my room. I haven’t the heart to kill it and I haven’t the heart to pick it up and throw it outside. I’ve come to a conclusion by letting it live, letting it walk on my walls day in and day out… Spiders have very pointless lives. Still I don’t think it miserable so I will spare it.

I’m more than halfway done my screenplay and sometimes I love it and sometimes I don’t but I’m scared. I feel I should be done by now because I don’t have work or school and it should be my priority but at the same time I feel I really should stick to my pace (4 pages a day). I don’t know what to do and though I’m proud to be doing well I feel restless.

I don’t know much about paints and I have no clue how to jump into the world of paints… I feel stagnant once more.

I am currently plotting and world building and character building for a story idea I’ve got. The first time I had the spark for the story I fell in love, then I tried getting deeper and I fell out of love but I really wanted to make it work. One day I filled in a bunch of questions on characters and plot and I didn’t think much of it. I still felt terrible. I would answer more questions and my characters felt even more wrong. Then yesterday I reread that first questionnaire and I realized I had been recently building on the wrong concepts. My characters in that first questionnaire were amazing! I fell in love once more.

Tones: I’m making a list of tones I am lenient towards but that make me feel gross. Clichés, contemporary, easy, etc. I think I may find MY tones once I cross out all the ones that aren’t, from the eternal list of tones.

Remember why we Exist You and I

2010-04-15T00:59:00.006-04:00

I don't want to survive, petty and trite, I want to Be. I need a story to tell.

In all that is possible about life, absurd, pointless, live eternally or live an ephemere spark, there is only me in the eye of another, I don't wish to vanish without moving myself, I don't wish to vanish with the flat concrete of eternity's foundation. I want to grow, become and say something more, I want to explode and shake and make shivers send tears out of mine own eyes. I watch the world, I watch many souls, I bask in the way they move me... I want to move me.

I don't believe feeling the way I do is vain, it may be an illusion, but if I make a life out of it, if I catch myself believing... Oh time will tell of course. It does tell right?

Franky ∫ Mere survival in such a fucking soul! ∫ *56/100 Screnzy* says: (1:45:40 AM)

what are you up to?

L.e.x :] says: (1:48:41 AM)

nadda

L.e.x :] says: (1:48:46 AM)

tryin to fall asleep

L.e.x :] says: (1:48:49 AM)

but im not tired

Franky ∫ Mere survival in such a fucking soul! ∫ *56/100 Screnzy* says: (1:49:25 AM)

understood

Franky ∫ Mere survival in such a fucking soul! ∫ *56/100 Screnzy* says: (1:49:29 AM)

I feel quite the same

Franky ∫ Mere survival in such a fucking soul! ∫ *56/100 Screnzy* says: (1:49:29 AM)

I feel quite the same

Franky ∫ Mere survival in such a fucking soul! ∫ *56/100 Screnzy* says: (1:49:43 AM)

though I should sleep as not to wake up at 1 again tomorrow

Franky ∫ Mere survival in such a fucking soul! ∫ *56/100 Screnzy* says: (1:49:48 AM)

I have an appointment tomorrow

Franky ∫ Mere survival in such a fucking soul! ∫ *56/100 Screnzy* says: (1:50:07 AM)

no, it's not for a career opportunity, nor is it for a psychanalist to check my head

Franky ∫ Mere survival in such a fucking soul! ∫ *56/100 Screnzy* says: (1:50:26 AM)

Merely a friend who needs my services and I haplessly, happily serve

L.e.x :] says: (1:50:35 AM)

lol

Franky ∫ Mere survival in such a fucking soul! ∫ *56/100 Screnzy* says: (1:50:53 AM)

It's all I can do right now to bring anything to this forsaken place, Serve that is

Franky ∫ Mere survival in such a fucking soul! ∫ *56/100 Screnzy* says: (1:50:53 AM)

serve until I can be served

Franky ∫ Mere survival in such a fucking soul! ∫ *56/100 Screnzy* says: (1:51:00 AM)

I'm too humble to be served

Franky ∫ Mere survival in such a fucking soul! ∫ *56/100 Screnzy* says: (1:51:09 AM)

and yet no one feels the world the way I do

Franky ∫ Mere survival in such a fucking soul! ∫ *56/100 Screnzy* says: (1:51:23 AM)

but what does that even mean? How better does tha tmake me?

6. Best plot you’ve ever created?

2010-04-10T15:18:00.006-04:00

To this day I think my favorite plot is the one from The Children are Immortal. Though my first draft is full of holes and repugnant actions, it's a story really close to my heart and who I am and I think it gives a different perspective to the idea of disillusion.

In a small town, teenager Christine Byrd's little step brother is found dead by the police after he has disappeared a month ago. Oppressed by the skeptical police officers, her mother's depression, and the stupidity of the world she breaks down. After being observed and studied by two supernatural 8 year olds from another dimension while she threw a violent fit, they try to frighten her to death by throwing her into the vicious river to see how she would react. The wall between the two dimensions is broken for the spilt second of a lightnening bolt, the time for Christine to inherit some of the infinite powers of the twins. This newly acquired magic frees her from the pressure life ensued upon her and soon she finds herself looking for grander reasons to use her powers to the demise of

the immortal children.

I've got a few awesome ideas strutting in my mind right now, all projects I intend to pursue eventually. All full of obscurity and beauty and autumn and music boxes and soul and...

Lullaby for the Hero by Michael Cheval

Mocking Smile

2010-04-07T14:00:00.009-04:00

Weird faces, weird sounds, strange conversations, I look good in this light, I look bad with my face down, can I make myself cry? Nope. I start to laugh instead. This is my face.

This is my face? How could this be me? People look at me and they see this? What’s so special about this face? Nothing really, I’m sure it would blend skillfully into the crowd. That’s good to know, now I can stop worrying about people judging me and putting me down, how could they if they can’t even single me out. This is not a child’s face. I do not appear younger than everyone my own age…

Good. Now that I know my body doesn’t give off the wrong image, it gives off no image; I know that people don’t know what my soul is like. Good good, that means they aren’t wrong about me yet. Good. Now all I need is for my body to give off the image of my soul.

Soul is disembodied. Soul doesn’t figure to the body at all. Identity does. Identity is the image the body gives off. My body will never be as my soul and vice versa, but at least I can be happy in it. If my body becomes what my soul dreams of in this « tangible’ world, wouldn’t that make me happy in recapitulation? How do I make that happen? Be myself?

So I found that looking in a mirror and talking to yourself can be hours of fun. I honestly feel for the past few days that I am talking to someone else. It feels good to see yourself as someone else. It’s easy to interact with others when you don’t realize you’re there. You don’t worry about the image your body is making your soul look like. But when you do, you start to justify in circles and move in circles instead of forward. So? Why not talk to yourself without realizing you’re there? Magnificent process that works wonders. I will know what my soul says when I’m not thinking about it and will be able to know myself? I’ve been a happy dreamer for the past week. I want a mirror in my room now.

1. Jean Carriès (1855-1894)
Grotesque mask, element for the Monumental Door, 1891/1894
Photo : Philippe Ladet/Petit Palais/R. Viollet

5. Most annoying character you’ve ever created?

2010-04-04T11:41:00.004-04:00

Ah! I have a few characters I often can't stand. A lot of my characters make me feel dreadful whether they are too vague and empty or too complex in a direction I don't want to go. Characters that try to be realistic but only succeed in removing suspension of dibelief. I think the worst one yet has been Brady Sam Kirk. He was just in a horrible story and attempt to forcefeed people my own ideals of Love. He was 20-something and I made him all spooked out about smoking and he won the lottery and he was cheating on his girlfriend with a party whore and he figured in the end that he was happiest with simplicity in his life. It was horrible because he generally just whined and wanted superficial things, and I was never able to make his relationship with his "soulmate" anything believable.

I'm glad I'm generally past that stage and I'm working on bettering my character creating now. I've got trouble finding a way to trust my characters on their own, but I think if I create them round enough they will take my hand and lead me. I dream of this...

4. Favorite genre of writing?

2010-04-01T10:05:00.003-04:00

Just recently I've started wondering about that. I was thinking, "If I publish a novel, where would I find it in a book store?". To be honest I'm not sure whether it would be in fantasy or general literature. Being a teenager myself I find it really important to write about issues that aren't brought up in our lives but that I've noticed. So I write young adult stuff with the paranormal weaved inside. I did wish it was more mainstream though, for the esthetic escape I wish to induce. In any case, I'm still looking for that voice. Until then, my favorite writing genre will always be this jumbled ramble.

Image not by me...

Through the Blizzard... Script Frenzy

2010-03-31T20:27:00.006-04:00

In a few hours it will be midnight. I'm not sure if it's like this for everyone but to me that means it'll be April first (April fools if you prefer). One thing is for sure, this grand adventure I'm about to embark on is not a joke. 100 pages of screenplay in ONLY 30 days. Ask me how I feel about this? I'm really excited.

For the past month I haven't been going to school and I don't have a job so I've been watching movies, reading screenplays, taking a bunch of notes, and plotting for my awesome screenplay. Now that April is upon us I will have to write a minimum of 3.3 pages a day (though I'm planning to write 4, or more if inspiration sparks).

What I'm looking forward to is to being called up for a job interview, getting a job, getting a bunch of obstacles in my way, and still getting through this screenplay. It would make my heart sing if life became unpredictable, if I was thrown left and right and through it I managed to find my own way, accept it, and come out of this experience just that more grown up. God knows I've got so much to learn on every side of this circular geometric life (that includes: scriptwriting, time management, and who I am).

My screenplay is an adaptation of the children's novel "Perloo the Bold" by Avi. I chose this novel because I am a little Perloo myself. I think I have everything I need, I think I'm fine doing everything on my own, I think dreaming my life away is a great escape, and yet I fear the future, I fear to live life, I fear the challenge of being myself.

I foresee this movie would be a family animation: Funny and cute, but inspiring for people of all ages, for various reasons, for various ways of seeing the world. I will enjoy this month, following the rabbit-like montmers and their tales on Rasquich Mountain. I hope to learn from them every step of the way.

Wish me a bunch of unexpecteds this month! I'll update every once in a while, tell you what my furry friends are up to.

"Perloo the Bold" cover art by Harvey Chan

3. Angsty poetry?

2010-03-26T19:12:00.006-04:00

Angsty poetry indeed, what with my over thinking and pointless self-defeat... though I try to stay away from the cliché angst. I live with something I like to call petty issues. They are problems that get me so worked up even though in the general sense of life I don't care a thing for them. I try to stay away from these issues when writing angsty poetry... though maybe it would help to put them on paper?

* Here's a quite repugnant excerpt (I should probably not be posting):

"Something tells me I don't import
While I long for all to see me.
I get attatched to bodies;
A suicidal jumper on the edge of a cliff..."

I'll leave it at that while I go out and take a waft of fresh air to clear the shadows. Boo!

* Here's a not too shabby excerpt:

"Through torture you can get whatever you want
But remember it's my passion you're taking it out on.
We've yet to find a day where my projects aren't at stake
And your power to collaborate, not a dead end fate."

2. Poetry?

2010-03-24T17:11:00.007-04:00

Send me some poetry! Something you like, something you love, something I might like. I would love to discover this side of literature.

I like poetry. Some poems sound nice or look nice to me but tend to go over my head even though I try hard to dissect them. Other poems move me tremendously (I haven't got any examples though... I'm not a big poetry geek at all). I think I rather be read to or shared a poem orally though. I like to write them but usually look back at them in disgust because I find myself too choppy and pointless or way too obvious.

Here, I found a piece of poetry that I quite enjoy. It's music lyrics, the poetry I am exposed to the most. Somewhere only We Know by Keane (The first song in my playlist to the left) is full of dream, of wist, of nostalgia, all things I am very fond of:

I walked across an empty land
I knew the pathway like the back of my hand
I felt the earth beneath my feet
Sat by the river and it made me complete

Oh simple thing where have you gone
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

I came across a fallen tree
I felt the branches of it looking at me
Is this the place we used to love?
Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?

I myself have little snippets of prose in a bunch of scattered post-its that I find are going somewhere yet which I can't bring myself to complete.

"But I'm lying here, half asleep
And the alarm is ringing so it's hard to keep
My eyes closed...

I'm barely sleeping.
My dreams are seeping
Out of my grasp.
It's a slow eye movement."

"And the golden birds fly over the mountain
Where the royal heart bleeds,
And the quest to the river of blood
Is held by tiny blind green men..."

"The soul in me; the ghost in me.
The ghost in you; the soul in you.
The concrete shoes, they're pulling us down.
It's a sorry potential."

Thawing Out a Dentist Smile (Speculations)

2010-03-22T16:33:00.017-04:00

I'm currently drinking tea out of a straw because the right side of my mouth is too numb to retain any liquid. Needless to say, it's a useful method to reduce the amount of drooling.

I must say, technology really is going a long way (Not because of the straw!). Remember I said I had two cavities to get fixed last week? Well, today I got them fixed in under 30 minutes and I felt 5% pain max. It was much better than when I used to get my teeth fixed when I was younger (and I can't imagine how it must have been for my parents when they were kids... or for medieval folk... yikes).

It's what I wanted to talk about today though. Pain, anticipated pain, pain that heals and makes us stronger, and vain pain. I thought of a parallel between the unbearable anguish and internal conflict that life painfully drops on us regularly and the pain at the dentist (Well, the former pain). I also made a connection to sickness. Without being arrogant, I've seemed to have found a more positive way to undertake depression.

There are two pains I’ve identified today in the dentist’s chair. There is the pain you go through, by choice, to evolve and make things better and to keep going on without pain. I call this "The dentist". There is also the pain that was uncalled for, that simply attacks you, and that you must fight against (usually this brings more pain) to get better. I call this “The cancer”.

I'm confident fighting through a cancer is not vain. The attacker (the cancer) itself may be vain, but surely one who is affected by the disease and gets through it learns much about life. Learning is not vain. Surely they become an inspiration to others. Affecting others is not vain. It will not have been a vain battle whether the victim survives or not, so long as they fought their best battle.

So why should I feel that freeing oneself from depression is a vain goal? I've been attached to my own anxiety and dejection because I felt that if I fought against it like you would the flu or a cancer, and I got better, I will feel I had suffered so much for no reason since I would be well and unchanged. Cancer victims do come out of a vain sickness changed and why would I be afraid to let cancer vanish? The difference between depression and cancer is that cancer is physically provable; victims are not be alone. Melancholy is invisible. I would want to stay depressed so that I would never be cured and I could search indefinitely for a positive reason for my condition.

Well I realize now that fighting this feeling inside me, this obstacle, is not vain at all. I tell myself this all the time when I have the flu and I’m shivering and my muscles ache and it’s hard to ingest or digest, your throat is burning and you have cold sweats all over… I tell myself to fight the disease, not the pain, to simply endure the pain because once I am healed I will feel better and the memory of the hurt will merely make me stronger. Why should I keep this bit of knowledge from myself when I am down in the dumps?

That’s how my outlook is more positive now. I’m not sure whether depression is a “dentist” or a “cancer”; in my case it might have become a bit of both. Whatever it is, I have learnt so much about life because of this and though most people will not see me as a hero or an inspiration for surviving it, when others have to go to the dentist after me, if I have kids one day, I could share my tale. “Don’t worry. The dentist hurts for a little bit. You feel horrible and have a fever, trying to vomit for hours, but it’ll pass. Once you are better, whether everyone knows what’s happened to you, whether you’ve learnt anything from it, it doesn’t matter, you’re free now, go forward, you can share this with your kids later.”

Now I know why I should try to be happy. It’ll become easier and easier to quit this redundant habit of mine.

*Smiling mask by Kathleen Carr http://www.kathleentcarr.com/-/kathleentcarr/

1. What’s the last thing you wrote? What’s the first thing you wrote that you still have?

2010-03-21T20:16:00.010-04:00

I. The last thing I wrote is a short story called Succesion (Title may undergo change). I've been practicing short stories for a while now. Though I don't find my voice is really clear in these they are good for my storytelling skills (them that need working on). It was the story of a man writing a letter to his newborn daughter about the dreams he must sacrifice for her to grow up with dreams of her own.

"My dear May,
Do not find me hasty for writing you this letter so soon. I know very well you’ve never set eyes on written words yet. I am aware if I was to give you this letter now you would merely snatch the paper out of my hands, drool on the ink, and giggle at the running words. Do not think me arrogant either. I do not claim to being anything grandiose, but this sacrifice, it is bigger than life. I will not accept to forget it, not completely at least, or I may come to believe I was not a good father and that’s all I have now. I do hope one day you will choose to recognize what I have given you.
I was once a king, and once the leader of a utopic anarchy. (...)"

II. The first thing I ever wrote (that I still have) is a snippety piece of writing inspired by the tale of Jack and the Beanstalk. It was a first person fragment and in it I was the giant. I would clean myself in the rain, dry myself with cloud and give Jack everything that he wanted because I was not the evil giant people rumoured about but in fact Jack's best friend. I wrote it at 6 years old and won a cute literary award for it.

"Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman."
Illustration by Arthur Rackham from
a 1918 English Fairy Tales, by Flora Annie Steel"

It's interesting that I realize now why I have this subconscious connection to this tale. In a screenplay I'm currently writing, parts of the story are quoted as a parallel to the main plot. The giant in my case are two immortal twins who look evil by their actions though they merely want to survive while the protagonist, by abusing her magical powers, is sending them into inexistence.

I fell upon this writing survey originating from an unknown chain. I decided to post each question on seperate posts every few days or so.

I have Two Cavities to get Fixed on Monday

2010-03-19T13:03:00.007-04:00

Yesterday I slept through my radio alarm and instead I woke up to the phone ringing. The call was to inform me that I was late for my Dentist’s appointment and that I would have to reschedule. I felt quite dreadful. I don’t know why this happens to me, but whatever I do, no matter how subtle or honest I am I always end up looking like I’m out of it, clumsy, and indolent. I am no slacker believe me. I am usually earlier than on time, but for some reason these mishaps curiously always happen at the worst times.

I usually have trouble telling others what I do with my days because to them reading and writing and all the small things I do to keep on learning is not anything that helps me forward, so I’ve got nothing to answer and I look so worthless. And I am trying to get a job even though it feels oh so awful, but really it only looks like I’m slacking, doing my best to avoid employment and continue to leech off of others. I absolutely despise leeching! I probably look like I’m justifying my sluggishness with pathetic excuses right now… Well this is complicated!

Needless to get into a spiral of justifying justifications, because, though I had missed my appointment, I ran to the dentist

anyways and was able to get an appointment one hour later. This took me up a spiral of relief actually. In the dentist’s chair my dentist kept asking me questions: Did you miss class to come here? Are you in college? Why aren’t you in college anymore? Do you work? It’s funny the way dentists ask you a bunch of questions even though you clearly can’t talk with their hands in your mouth. When I could slip a word in the conversation I did my best not to sound idle. I was honest with her, told her I was not sure what to do yet but that school was not the place for me. I told her I had no room to be creative in the literature program. I was amazed. Instead of judging me like I thought a dentist might she admitted to have been the queen of indecisiveness after high school. She had ambitions and she never followed through with them, yet there she was, quite a content dentist. She asked me, and not in a pejorative manner, “So your like an artist at heart?” It made me smile and attempt to nod as she flossed my teeth.

I found I could work around her questions, with genuine honesty, and manage to express myself and be understood. Although I was at the dentist’s, a place that is so esthetically far away from who I truly am, I felt like myself (I still don’t know what that is though), I felt comfortable.

(Pictures from Public Record Office Victoria and Ontario Archives)

Something to Follow through Fog and Slimy Things

2010-03-14T16:19:00.003-04:00

So I realize now, more than ever, that life is ups and downs. I mean, you always know this; you feel it. One day everything goes well and you know what you’re doing and you’re motivated to the max, and the next there’s a foggy wall in front of you and you feel terrifyingly blue and stagnant.

I haven’t been writing on my blog for a while now, ‘cause I hadn’t the ambition. That is my worst enemy really. Lack of ambition and low self-confidence, they’re deadly. They are the reason I long to dream, make my dreams tangible realities, to enjoy every chunk of life like the pulp of a grapefruit, to shout out my name, my stories, my essence to the world, and yet do nothing… absolutely nothing! I’m a slimy thing, I think sometimes. I feel as though I would be an outsider looking onto myself and being ashamed of what I see. I felt recently I should take life more positively, set positive goals such as: write in my blog. And precise goals such as: write updates on your new journey.

While the absurdity of life whips into me every time I raise my spirits enough to move slightly forward I’ve taken a few decent steps yet into the me, the personification of my beautiful mind (as opposed to my repulsive mind), the who who may not be me in actions but in the things I say. What I say doesn’t make me who I am, not to others at least, but I have a goal. I learnt though that blurry goals aren’t good goals and gosh am I ever so hazy to my own self. I do seem quite pretentious and condescending, I feel and know I know extensive human knowledge, but I’ve become proud in spite of my humility. It may be self-defense for some strange feeling of uselessness but that’s beyond the point. I have come to terms and admitted to myself outright that I do not know whom I am and I do not know what I want, AND these things scare me a lot. It was hard to admit it because I’m very cynical, and cynical people know what they’re up to… obviously.

So, like I said earlier, I’ve taken my first steps to finding answers to these questions: First, I dropped out of school. School is frankly very easy, just do what you have to do, so it was hard for me to leave to something muddled like myself on my own. I’d been in school from Illusion through to Disillusion and my face was crammed into the academic state of mind and I could take no distance from it all to find myself. The only thing I knew was that I was unhappy, that I was surrounded by unprofessional peers, that I wasn’t creating from myself at all, and that I did not have any opportunity to live the symbiotic existence everyone should have with their own soul.

I have left school with a vague goal in mind. I thought this vague goal was quite enough and hated my parents and former teachers and psychologists and orientors for being skeptical and always asking questions like “What are you planning to do now?” I despised them like this was some sort of condescendingly stupid question. I’d answer: get a job, read, write, I’m just gonna wing it… And I was too fearful to answer: I don’t know! I haven’t got a clue! I don’t know what I truly want at all. My wants are all so diverse and contradicting, so what is my ideal life’s goal? Well, these questions, and more, are my journey.

I need to experience life and let things hit me before I rationalize them. I need life to prove me wrong on so many levels. I plan to get a job (not a career), go on a humanitarian trip and break down all my stubborn ideals, to explore the world and myself, to learn arts through mentors and personal practice and who knows what epiphanies I will come to? Maybe I will want to go back to school; maybe I will desire to keep living like a bohemian. Whatever it is, it’s now or never that I must hunt for happiness and fulfillment in life ‘cause we only have one life and we’ll have to give it back some day. Wanting to live my soul is a hazy goal but it feels slightly like this and that is something I don't want to pass me by.

If you happen to exist...

2009-02-09T20:34:00.002-05:00

I don't believe perhaps many have wandered off into the land of Auguste. Probability has it that I am most likely talking to myself. In any case, if ever there is someone out there, someone who has taken a glance at my blog, if there is anyone who has felt something glowing from between the lines do not be mistaken with my absence. There won't be many posts until a while, but one day, and I am certain, I will blog like a real blogger does and you will see, you will see the ghost in me...

until then just sit on the bench there, grab a magazine, chew on your fingernails, the docotr is out for a moment...

Me so sorry

2008-11-12T21:35:00.004-05:00

I'll be typing up an awesome recap of my Halloween and autumn soon but I've not had the time to do anything lately. (So busy) I do have a story to share now (sorta late) that my ideals have changed. I'm having amazing adventures with coincidinkies. I do still believe what's wrote, let's just say the beet has found its juices though.

(last month's post)

Today I've got a story to tell. It came to me as I stood in the wind, my fingers crippling to the cold... Here it goes, pretend I'm a storyteller:

Deep into the forest, where the sun comes in like thin golden dust, beyond where any man has ever set foot, there strived a world of it’s own. In this world, prejudice ran wild, and opinions were made by the judgment of the hierarchy. Birds flying by do not dare to enter this meadow for fear of being alienated. Little rodents, seeking the shady corners of the forest for a crunchy snack, quickly turn around when they make contact with these repulsive creatures.

The creatures were twisted in all different shapes and sizes, with a deep scarlet tint in their faces. They owned no hands or eyes, only a little tiny pair of legs and an odd mouth, often big enough to snarl at as many other peasants possible at once.

Why am I being so obvious!?

Participant of the civilization was a true outcast. One of them, only he resided in a prison made of glass. One day he had fallen from the sky down in the meadow, in his container. He tried so hard to fit in but rolling around the rugged rug of the forest in a jar was not effortless. He was always late at the pretentiality meetings and his opinions could never be heard. He started to have very different ideals then everyone else, since he had known what being apart of the norm was, and so he tried running away, to find someone like him.

On his journey out in the forest he met nomadic gremlins, but they didn’t have anything to do with him, they couldn’t even speak his tongue. He found a few rodents scattering, thinking they could understand him. He rolled quickly towards them, but they discarded him. They didn’t want anything to do with any of his kind. He hopelessly wandered the forest, meeting up with a man made path and following it, wherever it went.

He kept walking, even though it had been weeks his jar had fallen in a fissure in the road and he moved forward no longer. When his energy was completely seeped out and he was swimming in his purple sweat and tears he finally let go, and floated lifelessly in his jar.

One day after, he had heard horses coming in the distance, would they want to speak with him, probably not. The horses seemed to have stopped just beside him and a glimmer of depression stabbed him. Something removed the weeds that were growing on his lid, and then held him up. A human was looking at him, interested. The poor guy tried to speak but he couldn’t speak. His impowerness grew him angry. The man put the poor guy in his chariot, but he didn’t want to go anywhere, he wanted to be left alone. He started bashing at the glass with his body and feet. He fell asleep, a great big hit to the head, failing to break the material. And he awoke in a dark lit place. Beside him was another jar. Excitement arose inside of him like never before. He started to scream, joyfully mumble in his juices. In the other jar was a long green woman, warts all over her body, he was screaming too, smiling with her eyes. Finally what they both had longed for was there right beside each other, and they lived happily ever after… Until the man ate them of course…

Procrastination's in my nature

2008-10-13T14:29:00.002-04:00

Procrastination Station. I opened my Blog not too long ago and already I find myself procrastinating to write. I've so much to say only I hate to force the words out of me. Also, I have many things planned out and yet I never take the time to sit down and type them.

Anyways, I've not let down my Blog, pick a peek at times, you might find a treasure most unexpected...

La Station Procrastination. J'ai ouvert mon Blog y'à pas longtemps et déja je me trouve entrain de procrastiner à écrire. J'ai plein de choses à dire mais je déteste forcer les mots à sortir de ma tête. Et puis, j'ai plein de choses planifié mais je ne prend jamais le temps de m'assoire et de les taper sur l'ordinateur.

En tout cas, je n'abandonne pas mon blog, prenez-y un coup d'oeil de temps en temps, vous y trouverez peut-être un trésor inattendu...

Shakespeare is overrated?

2008-10-11T21:18:00.001-04:00

From October 8 to 10 I had gone on a trip with school. Myself and a few friends had gone to a theatre festival, 7 hours from home. The festival took place in a little town in Ontario. Stratford it was called. I must say, it was beautiful! Old victorian styled houses with pumpkins and halloween decorations and a main street like in Tim Burton movies.

There we saw 2 musicals and 2 Shakespeare plays.

Shakespeare... I don't like him much. I can see how he was revolutionary but with all that we can read nowadays he really blends into the crowd, I guess it's why I'm bothered when we excessively study him. I do thank him for what he's done to literature but I'm not interested in looking his way. Well actually it may be Romeo and Juliette's fault. I never liked the

story, and the fact that every single year of my highschool life we have studied it sorta pulled yarn over my eyes, making me believe Shakespeare was only boring. But other than Romeo and Juliette we also saw Ceaser and Cleopatra which was just succulent. I wish I could see it over again, it was just beautiful, although the theatre did smell of stinky feet which was disconcentrating.

The last day we went to one of the worlds largest

costume warehouses, where we weren't allowed to touch the costumes with our oily fingers and there were huge fire proof warehouses. There were amazingly built props, and in the end we had a tiny selection of costumes to wear. (Sadly, there was nothing I was really excited to wear. No peasents clothes of the colonisation years...)

Last thing we did was see the play Cabaret. What a shocking and beautiful play. I went to see scenes from the movie after and wow is it nothing compared to the version I saw. Oh how I wish I was there still.

Wow there was nothing really inciteful in this post... must I be inciteful? I hope you guys are just... interested...

The famous swans of Stratford...

My Teacher Asked Me "Franky What's Wrong With You Today?" / "François, ça va?"

2008-10-02T23:52:00.000-04:00

While I nibble on this pack of Rockets candy I can't stop thinking of what marvel has just fallen upon my home, my me, this day. This morning I woke up, I felt sick and tired of school and this busy life. My feelings of annoyance tumbled around my mind until simply, they vanished, the moment I took my step outside. The shortest walk, just the walk to my dad's car in the driveway and the smell of cold air and drowsy trees brought me back to life, instantly. It seems the year had been desaturating me and here it is, Autumn, the season I devoted my blog to. The season, the muse to the many good qualities in me, and the rather mysterious perspective I have of life.

I have an odd belief that the ones who despise this rejuvenating season, and/or the ones who are able to commit suicide in such a soul pickling time never truly saw beyond the dying leaves and cold winds. The melancholia radiated from the season of the dead is a good feeling to me rather than a bad one. Don't you love to sit quietly, listen to the trees ruffle in the wind, watching them swintelfink? Why not love the idea of laying in the grass, letting the leaves fall onto our faces, and as we lay there we leave our shadows on the ground just before we finally disappear again? Finally my leaves have started to fall again, the burden is lesser.

I'd love to tell you more but I've finished my Rockets and tonight the poetry has already stopped flowing. I wish you knew exactly how I felt. You do know? Maybe a new friend is at hand...

Je me mets a rêver, le jardin d'éden s'amène a moi, une petite pluie et une odeur de bois. Je ne vais pas traduire le texte au dessus, mais je veut que tout le monde sache à quelle point l'automne m'enchante, et à quelle point il est important dans ma vie!

Goodmorning/Bon Matin

2008-09-30T22:36:00.001-04:00

It's not morning at all. It's 7:36PM. I decided to make this the name of my first post as my salutation to this world of bloggers. This should be the first post to a journey I'm waking right now to embark on. My name is François Latreille, I applaud my parents for baptising me such a way. I was born in August, and am a Leo. It's strange how I'm am not quite superstitious but my numerology results and my horoscope, and most things about me just coincide. It's rather magical. Justly, I want to make my experience on this blog magical, it's my goal to explore and conquer the important sides of my eternal me. I have so much to say and no one to share it with. You'll be quite surprised of the discovery you've made that is me I sure hope. Stick around won't you, listen to my stories...

Il n'est pas matin du tout. Il est 19:36. J'ai décider de nommer ma première entrée, Bon Matin, comme salutation à ce monde de bloggeurs. Ceci devrait être ma première entrée sur lequel je m'éveille pour embarquer sur une grande aventure. Mon nom est François Latreille, et j'applaudit mes parents de m'avoir baptiser un tel. Je suis né en Août, et je suis un Léo. C'est étrange que je ne suis pas vraiment superstitieux mais que mes résultats de numérologie et que mon horoscope, et que la plupart des choses à propos de moi font que coïncider. C'est plutôt magique. Justement, je veut rendre mon expérience sur ce blogue, magique. C'est mon but, d'explorer et de conquérir les morceaux importants de l'éternel moi. J'ai plein de choses à dire et personne avec qui les partager. Vous allez être surpris de la découverte dont vous venez de faire j'espère. Alors restez bien proches voulez vous? Écoutez mes histoires...