Thursday, August 31, 2006

I deserve so much more.

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Quote of the day

I once thought I had mono for an entire year. It turned out I was just really bored.
Wayne's World

Friday, August 25, 2006

Best quote ever

My favorite quote of all time:

"La bonne bête ou l’homme de génie sont seuls capables, l’un par faiblesse, l’autre par force, de cette égalité d’humeur, de cette douceur constante dans laquelle se fondent les aspérités de la vie. Chez l’un, c’est indifférence et passivité; chez l’autre, c’est indulgence et continuité de la pensée sublime dont il est l’interprète et qui doit se ressembler dans le principe comme dans l’application. L’un et l’autre sont également naïfs; seulement, chez celui-là c’est le vide; chez celui–ci c’est la profondeur."

Honoré de Balzac

German quotes of the day

Noch zwei Tage, und das Morgen hat vor 24 Stunden begonnen.
Heinz Erhardt

Zwei Dinge sind unendlich, das Universum und die menschliche Dummheit, aber bei dem Universum bin ich mir noch nicht ganz sicher.
Albert Einstein
Allah Yirhamha ween ma kaanat


Whatever that means... it has to be fitting in some way. Is it?

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Le vol du siècle

Le vol du siècle ne fut pas celui de telle ou telle banque par un groupe de malfaiteurs astucieux; trop de planification et pas assez de spontanéité. On aime la passion plus que la méthode. Ce ne fut pas non plus un quelconque vol d’œuvre d’art; ceux-ci ne touchent généralement que l’orgueil de leurs propriétaires, puisque nul ne saura jamais dire la différence d’entre l’original et le double. Le vol du siècle (si on entend par « siècle » une notion temporelle élargie qui peut englober les deux derniers siècles ainsi que le prochain pour une raison qui ne relève que de l’auteur) n’est pas non plus le vol des frères Wright, puisque celui-ci découle plus d’un jeu de mot que du sujet ici entretenu. Non! Le vol du siècle fut effectué par cet humble écrivain en manque de Doritos.

Permettez-moi d’abord de vous expliquer pourquoi un camion de Doritos se verrait-il la cible d’un bouffon dans mon genre. Et bien, premièrement, parce que je suis un bouffon, un bouffon pour qui l’originalité prime sur le bon sens (c’est aussi pourquoi j’aime à sortir les vidanges en vêtements courts, l’hiver). Deuxièmement, parce que, malgré mon frêle physique *ahem* (l’auteur se permet lui-même de tousser, se mettant lui-même dans l’embarras), j’aime bien, de temps à autres, engouffrer une poignée indécente de Doritos dans mon abyssal gorgoton.

Donc, un jour, en proie à un viscéral désir pour une malsaine collation (malsaine par sa quantité, non sa qualité), je vis un camion de livraison tapissé d’un emballage de Doritos de quinze pieds de large, livrant à un quelconque établissement et livré à lui-même. Il était à peu près deux heures dans l’après-midi. Les nombreux passants me regardaient étrangement. Était-ce mon éblouissante beauté qui les intriguait ou cette coulée de salive digne d’un Saint-Bernard? C’est alors que sous un soleil décelant toute cachette que je me dis : « Ha ha! Le crime parfait! »

D’un pas décidé on me vit franchir une multitude d’obstacles (depuis que je suis gamin, chacune des craques d’un trottoir constitue un obstacle) en direction du camion convoité. Plus je comptais les craques du trottoir, plus l’excitation grimpait en moi. Me voici sautant par-dessus une plate-bande. Me voilà me faufilant entre deux marcheurs tout aussi surpris que choqués. J’avançais comme Christophe Colomb aurait aimé avancer en voyant approché trop lentement l’Amérique. Rassurez-vous, mon camion de Doritos n’était pas qu’une illusion d’Inde. Contrairement à mon copain l’explorateur, je découvris ce que j’avais jusque là cherché et que j’avais dû atteindre par-delà un océan de monde et de ciment, parsemé de plate-bande désertes, sous un soleil de plomb. Le camion de Doritos était là, comme ma terre promise m’accueillant.

J’entrai donc à l’intérieur par la porte coulissante laissée ouverte du côté du conducteur (non mais vraiment, le livreur tenait absolument à se faire voler. Tout s’éclaircit maintenant. Je ne suis qu’un outil du destin). J’allai à l’arrière, ouvris une caisse et en tira un sac de Doritos épicé. Je l’ouvris d’un geste vif digne d’une publicité et commençai à m’empiffrer goulûment. Je retournai alors à l’avant et m’assis derrière le volant. Le petit ange de ma conscience, qui, comme dans les Pierrafeu, apparut au-dessus de mon épaule droite, me demanda alors pourquoi après avoir déjà volé un sac de Doritos il me fallait désormais en voler un camion presque entier (n’oubliez pas que le livreur était déjà en train d’en livrer lorsque j’arrivai. Veuillez s’il-vous-plait omettre le fait que la porte arrière aurait dû être ouverte sans que je n’en aie fait mention). Comme il se devait, au-dessus de mon épaule gauche apparut le petit démon de ma conscience qui me dit alors dans le joual la plus vil que j’avais jusqu’à ce jour entendu, et que je dois même aujourd’hui censurer, quelque chose signifiant à peu près ceci : « N’écoute pas cet… ange. C’est un… Prend le … de camion. Bla bla bla… » J’écoutai donc celui des deux qui ne m’avaient pas posé de questions, parce que tout le monde sait bien que dans le cas d’un vol de croustille et∕ou de camion, on ne répond aux questions qu’en la présence de son avocat. Mon avocat étant soit inexistant, soit ignorant du fait qu’il était mon avocat, et dans les deux cas absent, je m’abstins de répondre à la question de l’ange et appuyai fortement sur l’accélérateur. « Le crime parfait » répétai-je, la bouche pleine.

On qualifie généralement de crime parfait cet acte illégal pour lequel un homme ou une femme s’en tire sans châtiment. Est-ce là une réelle satisfaction? Je ne saurais dire, puisque par un concours extraordinaire de circonstances (la lumière éclatante du jour, les nombreux passants comme témoins et le poste de police de l’autre côté de la rue), je fus arrêté. Je qualifie néanmoins mon acte de « parfait », puisque contrairement à ces criminels qui doivent constamment récidiver, j’ai eu tout à fait ce que je voulais. J’hésite toutefois à qualifier mon acte de crime, puisqu’on me le fit payer cher (de la prison, une amende et des travaux communautaires dans les écoles dans le cadre de la campagne « Vollé, cé pa cool! »). Je peux sans le moindre doute dire que c’était là le sac de Doritos le plus coûteux que j’aie jamais acheté, mais il était de loin le plus épicé.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Writing motion

I have tons of ideas. I have dozens of bits of dialogue. I basically know how the story will unfold. I know pretty much every one of the characters and what they bring to the story. I know how I want to write it. I know why. I know all there is to know about that story.

Now, the question is: When will I start to write that story?

I want it so bad.

Writing is my drug.

Little Frank minister of Awesomeness, representing CreativeWriting County, is a powerful member of the parliament of LittleFrankland. Now that little Prime Minister Frank has been kidnapped, he'd like to take over for a while. "A LITERARY REVOLUTION!" he calls for motion. Who will second?

Monday, August 21, 2006

I am Jack's broken heart

My heart isn't broken. There's just a small fissure and it's leaking.

Quote of the day

I myself am made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions.
Augusten Burroughs


Not that it is true, concerning me. Everybody knows I'm entirely made of qualities, stitched together with carelessness and apathy. Yes, the seams are very apparent.

Sunday, August 20, 2006

Time

We've just received a ransom letter for Little Prime Minister Frank. The kidnappers want time in exchange for the leader of life-sized Frank's reason (by the way, life-sized Frank is me).

Time doesn't come cheap. It's one of those currencies that is hard to get a hand on nowadays. There's work, there's sleep... then, what's left? Time spent typing messages on a blog that may or may not be read. Time spent watching TV, because any other type of activity seems oh so tiring. The expression "quality time" is laughable. The quality of my time is so crappy that I couldn't get anything in return should I try to sell it. Aren't there governmental regulatory commissions preventing time from getting that awful. You know, bad time can be harmful. It's like poison. No, it's like a flesh-eating bacteria, biting your soul one second at a time.

Think about it. Can anyone help me make my time better?

¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯

Time, Pink Floyd

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way
Kicking around on a peice of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way
Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun

And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but its sinking
And racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in a realative way, but you're older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death
Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time has gone, the song is over, thought I'd something more to say

¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯

I love Pink Floyd.

Drama in LittleFrankland: News

Rumors say Little Prime Minister Frank is locked in the cellar. Which cellar now?

Please, help find him.



I hope you get this is a metaphor.


P.S. Message to the thief: have you been reading about blackholes or what? Yes, gravity bends light. I was just reading about general relativity and Hawking radiations yesterday. I love blackholes. They are ghost phenomena. Awesome.

P.P.S It's not so much that gravity has the power to bend light, it has the property of bending light. It's not like it had the choice. On the other hand, if we take the expression literally, considering the other meaning of the word "gravity", as in serious and important, yes, it probably has the power to bend the "light" side of our perceptibility.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

LittleFrankland... funny...

Putsches.. what a funny word

Yes, it was my way of highlighting the 15th anniversary of the attempted putsch against the Gorbachev government, merely a few months before the dismantlement of the USSR.

Drama in LittleFrankland

Little Prime Minister Frank has been kidnapped!!

Is it a putsch?

Friday, August 18, 2006

Little Franks

I've been so bored lately. I can't play solitaire or minesweeper anymore. My shoulder's getting sore. Yes, using a mouse is too hard on my body. I'm such a wuss. My body's breaking down, just like my mind, at times.

I feel like my mind's made of millions of pieces tied together with rubber bands. Some pieces fall apart, the rubber bands stretch, but it gets back into place after a moment. This is a nice analogy, but it's not imaginative enough. I prefer my parliament analogy that I used in an email to someone who will know who she is.

Email to you know who you are:

Picture my mind as a small parliament of small Franks coming from differnet areas of my mind, all vying for power.On the question "Do I have a chance with [insert fictional name here]?", a minority says: "Absolutely!" But the vast majority says "Never." Little Prime Minister Frank decides to please Little Parliament by saying "Never" as well. But everybody knows Prime Ministers, Presidents, Dictators, Emperors, Tzars or Tribal Chiefs, small or life-sized, all have hidden agendas. Little Prime Minister Frank is aware that there are life-sized girls in this world who fall for the guy thinking he will never be good enough for her.

Being the greatest guy in the world might not be enough, but I like the way Little Franks think, and especially how Little Prime Minister Frank thinks (he's been re-elected for a reason). After all, they got me where I am today.

¯¯¯¯¯¯
Little Franks rule!

Thursday, August 17, 2006

"If I had a tumor, I'd name it Marla."

Edward Norton in Fight Club.

"I am Jack's wasted life."

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Message of the day

Here's the organizational structure of the company where I work:

President
Vice-president
Superintendant
Staff

I am staff, one of the better employees. Superintendant is the man I call my boss, but he's also a relatively good friend. Friend enough to have a beer with, hang out in his basement and I know his wife and daughter. Friend enough. President is a good old guy who has known me ever since I was a baby, who knows my parents, and he's fine. Vice-president.... he's a jackass.

Today, he dared call my boss (superintendant) to complain about me. He's working really hard trying to alienate everyone around him and one day he'll be surprised when everybody leaves. So, here's the message of the day:

Fuck you, André!

Quotes of the day

There are two kinds of people, those who finish what they start and so on.
Robert Byrne

I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.
Albert Einstein

Black holes are where God divided by zero.
Steven Wright

A friend is someone who will help you move. A real friend is someone who will help you move a body.
Unknown

The answer is...

...









no.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

3 libras

3 libras - A Perfect Circle

threw you the obvious
and you flew with it on your back,
a name in your recollection,
thrown down among a million same.
difficult not to feel a little bit
disappointed and passed over
when i've looked right through
to see you naked and oblivious
and you don't see me.
but i threw you the obvious
just to see if there's more behind
the eyes of a fallen angel,
the eyes of a tragedy.
here i am expecting just a little bit
too much from the wounded.
but i see through it all
and see you.
so i threw you the obvious
to see what occurs behind
the eyes of a fallen angel,
eyes of a tragedy.
oh well. apparently nothing.
Apparently nothing at all.
you don't see me.
you don't see me at all.



I love that song

Monday, August 14, 2006

Days of our Frank

My life is your new favorite soap.

Welcome to Days of our Frank.

Sunday, August 13, 2006

lows

I hate waiting. It's weird, because that's what I've done all my life. Wait for something to happen. Perhaps it's that now, for the first time, I'm truly waiting for one thing, and I'm tired of waiting for the rest to catch up to me.

There are a lot of people out there who are mature. Most of them are more mature than wise. In my case, I'd say my maturity level, on a scale from 1 to 28, is approximately at 3. At the same time, my wisdom level, on a scale from 0 to 32 (don't ask why, you don't want to know), is probably around 25. It seems really abnormal to me. All in all, I think it shows how much of a thinker I am, and how much I should just do, just react, instead of constantly analyzing everything that is happening (or not) in my life. Perhaps I should live my life instead of just watching go by. Get some experience. Fall and get back up.

I always been depressed, but I don't think I've ever been high. Most bipolars (I don't think of myself as bipolar, I guess I'm nowhere near bipolarity) have ups and downs, the ups being very high and the downs being very low. My range is much smaller. I just don't get high ups, I barely get higher than the average, and my downs never get really low either. I'm never happy, never truly sad (except a couple of instances). Honestly, the only fitting word I've ever found to describe my state of mind is "blah". Pathetic.

Friday, August 11, 2006

Yet then, to those dread altars as I drew,
Not on the Cross my eyes were fix'd, but you:
Not grace, or zeal, love only was my call,
And if I lose thy love, I lose my all.
Come! with thy looks, thy words, relieve my woe;
Those still at least are left thee to bestow.
Still on that breast enamour'd let me lie,
Still drink delicious poison from thy eye,
Pant on thy lip, and to thy heart be press'd;
Give all thou canst — and let me dream the rest.


Alexander Pope (excerpt from Eloisa to Abelard)

Thursday, August 10, 2006

The Dream

Whisper in the yard and turn the trees all into toys,
Lay there on the ground and turn the dirt into your joy,
From what I see and what I know,It's all been boring lately
So I suggest we trade a question mark in for a maybe,
Time your riddles right and make a point that has no sense,
Make sure that you're smiling and the money's been well spent,
Innocence and ignorance it all goes hand in hand,
I'm not sure that I'm right but I hope you'll understand,
I hope that you're still searching for the start that has no end,
And all the plastic people have now become your friends,
Before you start to drift and your soul begins to scream,
I just wanted to tell you that you're listening to a dream.


Brent Smith, Shinedown

Quote of the day

"Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal."

Albert Camus

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Blackhole

My blackhole has drawn me to her,
And I'll never return.

¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯
Isn't that the greatest love poem ever. Simple. Short. It says it all. It tells how a man can be incontrollably attracted to a woman. Some would argue that comparing love to a blackhole is not really flattering (especially if someone mistakes a blackhole for a brown hole... totally different), but I see it this way: blackholes are the greatest force of nature, so much that nature itself bends around it. Laws of physic break down past the horizon of a blackhole. Knowledge ceases to matter. Matter ceases to make sense.

Alexander Pope wrote:

"How oft, when press'd to marriage, have I said,
Curse on all laws but those which love has made!
Love, free as air, at sight of human ties,
Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies,"

Love, in a blackhole-like fashion, is irrational. Both are beyond understanding. Love is like Pi. One just cannot understand why it is infinite. Try calculating 51 billion digits of love. Then, try closing your eyes and imagine that smile, that look, that laugh...

Cosmology makes me feel so lonely. I'm too fucking romantic, at times. Where's cynicism when you need it?
Stupid. Waiting is stupid.

My aching back is stupid.

The entire world is stupid.


¯¯¯¯¯

Part Two: Quote of the Day (from www.quotationspage.com)

"Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time; it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable."

Sunday, August 06, 2006

I may soon be doing something really stupid. I don't know. Some think it's courageous. I think it's a consequence for my psychological make-up, an inevitable end. Sure, I have a choice, but I brought this entire situation to the point where, if I decide to let go, I'll regret it. I made that choice long ago, three years ago, and now (soon), it's coming to its determining moment.

I'm anxious, excited, stressed and calm.

Saturday, August 05, 2006

Sometimes I love being weird. It makes me laugh. Past is fun. Future is freaky. Present is boring. Making sense is overrated.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

I had a good run. At one point, I went five days in a row with an entry...

Come on, comment and inspire me. I can't do it all, for Someone's sake!

Yes, you know who that Someone is, or do you?