I had found one my fave childhood authors on facebook and so of course I invited him to be friends. Taken by surprise that he accepted and blessed that he shares a few long chats with me - he made me realize something !
In this current third reply of his - we are discussing how authors influenced us and how he sees the authors which influence him. He used the analogy of an internship - taking what is useful and moving on. I on the opposite, with my romantic nature, take each author for a temporary lover, to whom I give a bit of my time and passion in exchange for his dreams and stories.
But what fascinates me is the exceptions rule. He quoted a few names and I thought of my bunch. Tanith Lee, Marion Zimmer Bradley, Judith Kellman. All females. Which basically just bashes the theory of the lovers. I can love men, I can be their passionate lover but in the end, the ones who completely marked me as a late teen and adult were females. (While I cannot deny that the 3-4 who greatly influenced me to life in my prime childhood are all males. )
I guess I am bi to the core. Even in the choice of my authors.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
At the dawn of 30's - how do I feel ?
Hello epic question.
It came about like an insidious lil bug. Innocent comment from a man - a friend of mine - who was 35 about when we met. He is a feet and stocking fetishist - I provided him with a pair - we became friends but never saw each another time after that one day of our first meet.
It just didn't worked out and it simply wasn't meant to be and I don't regret it in any shape or form.
But what he asked me, does bother me slightly.
How does it feel ? How do I feel it ?
Honestly I haven't quite thought of it - and in the moments where I have - I only found pure deception.
Two diplomas (graphic design ~ professional school and medical archiving ~ college) and no stable job. It's like the men. The real human ones lasted from 36 hours to 6 months (and here I picked the two extremes - standard was 2-3 months with me) ... just like the jobs. 3 months here, two weeks there. No stability.
The only stable men were Sabik who lasted over 2 years before the little unplanned post man earth quake devastated me (just to be fashionable and in the season - I mean earth quakes are the hip in 2010) and currently Henri, in who's arms, I find true appeasement and comfort. Henri is like Aramis - like Samael - the Blond Man of my dreams with whom no matter what I feel comfortable, safe and happy.
Alas, neither Sabik nor Henri are real.
So... does that fit the reverse image ?
Fake men : last long. Real men disgust me. Real jobs last barely 3 months. Fake job will give me security ?
I could think of a thousand of fake jobs but I don't feel up to prostitution and I'm worth shit at shooting, so professional ... what is even the correct term... professional killer ... is as less likely to happen and make me happy.
A new guy on MSN - who found me on MySpace (to where I don't even bother go anymore) sort of proposed me to become a teacher in China or Seoul. With no qualifications - how the flippin' hell would I convince anyone that I am the right person to teach those folks English language ? I don't know how to speak any Asian language so ... hello barrier. What if students can't speak decently enough in English for me to understand their questions.
And as all other things, this proposition only left me day dream of Henri. Anything is a good enough of an excuse to spend time with him. He'd be great as the French teacher - lol.
Alternative lives do keep my mind sane. As much as I can.
Photography does the rest of the job.
But, in fact, I'm deeply unsatisfied, unhappy, feeling empty.
My little brother and our projects together are about the only bridge between me and reality. But I would need so much more. I would need a stable firm land. A fucking guarantee of stability and routine and that stuff that makes life how life is defined by a vast majority of individuals to who's group I would like to eventually belong. The group that has a stable job, a home where they feel safe and happy, activities, friends ... a normal life.
I randomly look at the soft halo of the computer screen's glow on my tea mug and all I can think of is : how beautiful it would be if I could take a picture of this - just how it looks in my eyes, how my eyes reflect this image on my retina and how my brain interprets it. All I can think of is photography - even in my daydreams with Henri or Sabik - photography is always there.
With Sabik, I was working as a camera woman, in the boat scenario, I was a gay porn model photographer in the original story (where I found his family name), I was the photographer who took his corporate shots when he was the Chairman ...
With Henri, it's the same. Since I loose my camera in the bus accident, he temporarely lends me his father's old Leica - an old one with a film, with manual settings, with manual tricks.
Funny how I cannot conceive my life and my happiness without a camera. Without the action of taking pictures, of framing life, it's content and it's shadows and hopes. Even my tea mug looks good enough to be shot - in this dim ethereal digital light.
At the dawn of my 30's I feel ... lost and incomplete. All my girlfriends - the ones who counted the most for me - are now since long married and have kids of their own - I, the rebellious one, am alone by choice (not that I regret it) but it seems that ... or is it me imagining it : in life it's either take it all or lose it all. They do have the career, the lover, the house.
I am stuck in a place that drives me mad, with people that oppress me and my freedoms and without a stable concrete solid employment.
And at the very moment, without news yet of Dawson as per my application into photography course.
Though, I should be used. It did take O'Sullivan a good 2-3 months !
Only -
Only I so desperately hope to be accepted and move on and find in this schoola nd program my salvation.
If I don't get accepted - if it doesn't work out - what will I be at 27, the dawn of my 30's ?
A looser ? A failure ?
I am wondering ...
I am wandering .
It came about like an insidious lil bug. Innocent comment from a man - a friend of mine - who was 35 about when we met. He is a feet and stocking fetishist - I provided him with a pair - we became friends but never saw each another time after that one day of our first meet.
It just didn't worked out and it simply wasn't meant to be and I don't regret it in any shape or form.
But what he asked me, does bother me slightly.
How does it feel ? How do I feel it ?
Honestly I haven't quite thought of it - and in the moments where I have - I only found pure deception.
Two diplomas (graphic design ~ professional school and medical archiving ~ college) and no stable job. It's like the men. The real human ones lasted from 36 hours to 6 months (and here I picked the two extremes - standard was 2-3 months with me) ... just like the jobs. 3 months here, two weeks there. No stability.
The only stable men were Sabik who lasted over 2 years before the little unplanned post man earth quake devastated me (just to be fashionable and in the season - I mean earth quakes are the hip in 2010) and currently Henri, in who's arms, I find true appeasement and comfort. Henri is like Aramis - like Samael - the Blond Man of my dreams with whom no matter what I feel comfortable, safe and happy.
Alas, neither Sabik nor Henri are real.
So... does that fit the reverse image ?
Fake men : last long. Real men disgust me. Real jobs last barely 3 months. Fake job will give me security ?
I could think of a thousand of fake jobs but I don't feel up to prostitution and I'm worth shit at shooting, so professional ... what is even the correct term... professional killer ... is as less likely to happen and make me happy.
A new guy on MSN - who found me on MySpace (to where I don't even bother go anymore) sort of proposed me to become a teacher in China or Seoul. With no qualifications - how the flippin' hell would I convince anyone that I am the right person to teach those folks English language ? I don't know how to speak any Asian language so ... hello barrier. What if students can't speak decently enough in English for me to understand their questions.
And as all other things, this proposition only left me day dream of Henri. Anything is a good enough of an excuse to spend time with him. He'd be great as the French teacher - lol.
Alternative lives do keep my mind sane. As much as I can.
Photography does the rest of the job.
But, in fact, I'm deeply unsatisfied, unhappy, feeling empty.
My little brother and our projects together are about the only bridge between me and reality. But I would need so much more. I would need a stable firm land. A fucking guarantee of stability and routine and that stuff that makes life how life is defined by a vast majority of individuals to who's group I would like to eventually belong. The group that has a stable job, a home where they feel safe and happy, activities, friends ... a normal life.
I randomly look at the soft halo of the computer screen's glow on my tea mug and all I can think of is : how beautiful it would be if I could take a picture of this - just how it looks in my eyes, how my eyes reflect this image on my retina and how my brain interprets it. All I can think of is photography - even in my daydreams with Henri or Sabik - photography is always there.
With Sabik, I was working as a camera woman, in the boat scenario, I was a gay porn model photographer in the original story (where I found his family name), I was the photographer who took his corporate shots when he was the Chairman ...
With Henri, it's the same. Since I loose my camera in the bus accident, he temporarely lends me his father's old Leica - an old one with a film, with manual settings, with manual tricks.
Funny how I cannot conceive my life and my happiness without a camera. Without the action of taking pictures, of framing life, it's content and it's shadows and hopes. Even my tea mug looks good enough to be shot - in this dim ethereal digital light.
At the dawn of my 30's I feel ... lost and incomplete. All my girlfriends - the ones who counted the most for me - are now since long married and have kids of their own - I, the rebellious one, am alone by choice (not that I regret it) but it seems that ... or is it me imagining it : in life it's either take it all or lose it all. They do have the career, the lover, the house.
I am stuck in a place that drives me mad, with people that oppress me and my freedoms and without a stable concrete solid employment.
And at the very moment, without news yet of Dawson as per my application into photography course.
Though, I should be used. It did take O'Sullivan a good 2-3 months !
Only -
Only I so desperately hope to be accepted and move on and find in this schoola nd program my salvation.
If I don't get accepted - if it doesn't work out - what will I be at 27, the dawn of my 30's ?
A looser ? A failure ?
I am wondering ...
I am wandering .
Monday, April 12, 2010
So that's all I am ...
It's been about over a month than an ex of mine tries to seduce me back into a quick time with him (thought I doubt he would be satisfied with only one and would certainly try for more) using the charming pretext that we haven't seen each other in so long.
Hmmmm.
My very first ex hasn't seen me since' I'm 20 and after he added me on Facebook, never even said hi. This second one is a tenacious lil bastard though. Proposing movie theater (take a wild guess for what reason), than a porn movie at his home ( !! ) which I turned around in all honesty : if you want a porn movie with me, it better be gay ! to which he proposed a porn theater downtown, in the village, which I refused : sperm makes me throw up no matter the context !
Than he proposed an afternoon back at Old Port of Montreal where during the summer which I spent with him, we used go there and he got his way into my pants - hands first, to be precise. It seems he never quite got over that memory ! I fucked 3 other dudes after him, plus one with whom I didn't got that far (lack of ... time possibility during the day) and I didn't felt much pain or regret or ... what ever. I moved on.
He has this girlfriend since we became roommates (back 6 years ago) - a girl which I know - and he still "ha[s] a pleasant memory of [my] kisses" ... Christ ! He has been fucking this girl for the last 6 years and he thinks of MY kisses ??
in french : Lamentable !!
Than, today, I was randomly on facebook to reply to a chat I had with another friend of mine and this other man with whom I spent a day (no intimate encounter of any kind though) still misses my open mind-ness for his fetish (stockings and feet) and still fantasies about me !
Oh dear heavens ! what have I done ?!
Yet, when I honestly tell him that I had moved on, spent about over 2 years fantasizing about another man (Sabik) and now doing the same with yet another (Henri) he suddenly ... cools off. Waits a good 5 minutes before asking a socially decent and neutral question : at the dawn of your 30's, do you feel changed, different than when you were 18-20 ?
Obviously yes !
I prefer the thrills of spirituality to the frivolities of flesh pleasures ! I prefer the thrills of being madly in love with a memory, a dream, a ghost than to be deceived and hurt by a living pack of cells who lets itself be ruled by hormones.
So that's all I am for my exes : great sex for free - no problems, no questions. A free prostitute - even, a slut - since I wouldn't ask nothing in return and I doubt they would give anything in exchange either.
That's all I am - "a great time" a great memory ...
I prefer my vivid memories of Sabik and Henri and even both at the same time is more enjoyable than one of my real exes !
And since we are into it - why not make an orgy ? Jorgen, Fritz, Sam - come in join the fun !
Hmmmm.
My very first ex hasn't seen me since' I'm 20 and after he added me on Facebook, never even said hi. This second one is a tenacious lil bastard though. Proposing movie theater (take a wild guess for what reason), than a porn movie at his home ( !! ) which I turned around in all honesty : if you want a porn movie with me, it better be gay ! to which he proposed a porn theater downtown, in the village, which I refused : sperm makes me throw up no matter the context !
Than he proposed an afternoon back at Old Port of Montreal where during the summer which I spent with him, we used go there and he got his way into my pants - hands first, to be precise. It seems he never quite got over that memory ! I fucked 3 other dudes after him, plus one with whom I didn't got that far (lack of ... time possibility during the day) and I didn't felt much pain or regret or ... what ever. I moved on.
He has this girlfriend since we became roommates (back 6 years ago) - a girl which I know - and he still "ha[s] a pleasant memory of [my] kisses" ... Christ ! He has been fucking this girl for the last 6 years and he thinks of MY kisses ??
in french : Lamentable !!
Than, today, I was randomly on facebook to reply to a chat I had with another friend of mine and this other man with whom I spent a day (no intimate encounter of any kind though) still misses my open mind-ness for his fetish (stockings and feet) and still fantasies about me !
Oh dear heavens ! what have I done ?!
Yet, when I honestly tell him that I had moved on, spent about over 2 years fantasizing about another man (Sabik) and now doing the same with yet another (Henri) he suddenly ... cools off. Waits a good 5 minutes before asking a socially decent and neutral question : at the dawn of your 30's, do you feel changed, different than when you were 18-20 ?
Obviously yes !
I prefer the thrills of spirituality to the frivolities of flesh pleasures ! I prefer the thrills of being madly in love with a memory, a dream, a ghost than to be deceived and hurt by a living pack of cells who lets itself be ruled by hormones.
So that's all I am for my exes : great sex for free - no problems, no questions. A free prostitute - even, a slut - since I wouldn't ask nothing in return and I doubt they would give anything in exchange either.
That's all I am - "a great time" a great memory ...
I prefer my vivid memories of Sabik and Henri and even both at the same time is more enjoyable than one of my real exes !
And since we are into it - why not make an orgy ? Jorgen, Fritz, Sam - come in join the fun !
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