Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Thumbs up for nothing

I would really be more encouraged to write if you people commented a little more. Ask me questions. Tell me I'm stupid. Admire me. Hate me. Be as random and irrelevant as you want. I don't care. It's called interaction. Try, it's fun.

Beside the lack of interest, I'm well. Had an ordinary day. Everything seemed just so plain and usual today. A copy of a copy of a copy of any other day. It didn't even get to that surreal point where you start wondering if you hadn't already lived that day and it's just repeating itself over and over again. It was just a nothing-happened-and-I-don't-care day. It reminded me of an episode of Scrubs in which Dr Kelso tells Dr Cox: "What has two thumbs and doesn't give a damn?" Then he points both his thumbs up toward his own face and says "Me!"

Here, now, today... what has two thumbs and doesn't give a damn?

Yes, you're right. Me.

Monday, October 30, 2006

a lost letter

I was looking for a piece of paper, some legal shit, related to my driving license, basically a two years old paper on which I was supposed to find something I had forgotten/lost/had no idea ever existed. While looking for that piece of paper (by the way, I found it, and it's still useless, so don't mind), I found a letter a girl sent me, last year, I think. I just realized that that girl was disturbingly in love with me. I used to think she was only sporadically in love with me, or part-time in love with me, but there was more. I could have been more patient with her, but the truth is that I never was interested in her, really, and perhaps I should not have given her so much to hold on, after all, just to later take it away. The truth is that she never was my type.

She's the last girl I've dated. Were they only dates? I barely remember even touching her. Back to the drawer, forgotten letter. I'll care in a year, when I'll have to look at this drawer again.


For some reason, someone decided I should be allowed to drive.... fools! Ha! I CAN DRIVE! I CAN DRIVE!

Watch out, squirrels!

Saturday, October 28, 2006

The title

The title of my first novel (that has still to be completed) will be...


This mess I am

It will be great... one day (actually, one day and the days following that day). I've written a little today. It was great. There's still so much work to do. Probably a couple of years, at this rate. I'm in no hurry. I don't care about time. As long as I can survive and write, I'm fine. I accept donations.

Contribute to the Frank Fund today!

Frank, the man who puts the fun into "funds". By the way, Frank is me.

Friday, October 27, 2006

Quote of the day

Happiness is always a by-product. It is probably a matter of temperament, and for anything I know it may be glandular. But it is not something that can be demanded from life, and if you are not happy you had better stop worrying about it and see what treasures you can pluck from your own brand of unhappiness.

- Robertson Davies

Thursday, October 26, 2006

Mental illnesses

We all have our own mental illness, or a bunch of them. In some cases, it's complacency or extreme naivety. In others, it's hopelessness. Actually, anything alienating in any way the pure and rational thought process can be considered as some degree of a mental illness. Those are mnemonic patterns bending our perception of reality, just like a large enough chunk of matter bends the local manifestation of the local properties of that specific part of the universe.


Tuesday, October 24, 2006

The book

I met the Devil at the park today,
He had the greatest bicycle.
He didn't have much to say
And he melted my popsicle.

I wrote a novel. I often call it a book, just because I had it made into a book by a guy who makes books. It remains to this day the object I've been the most impressed by and attached to. I remember one day, in kindergarten (am I the only one to pronounce this word the german way? I just love it. Kindergarten), we took sheets of paper and a sheet of cardboard, folded them and stapled them together. Later, I went home, and I drew pictures and dictated a story to my father so he could write it down. I was proud. I had made a book, and I knew I wanted to make books. Nowadays, my vision of making books isn't so much making them. I prefer to write them, seeing how words have always easily come by. French, which is a very hard language to master, has always been easy to me. As was english. Now, I can't picture myself finding any peace in any other thing than writing. People are messed up. Work is boring. Having to figure out what to do with my life is stressful. Writing is always the same. Relatively easy. Always soothing.

Aren't books the greatest objects in the world? Not only do they fill a bookshelf nicely, but they also have contents. They have purposes. They have meanings. You can place your entire life in a book. In a large enough room, you can store all the knowledge in the world. On a simple shelf, you can experiences of a range of emotions that most people won't ever experience, because of their narrow-mindedness. Books are tools as well as works of art.

My book was awesome. I carried it with me for a week before giving it away. I had to show it to every aquaintance I met. To every rare friend. To former teachers, even. Even to people I genuinely despise. That book was my holy grail. It was imperfect. I wrote it, revised it and printed it so fast that I left millions of errors in it, errors that I later corrected and now am ashamed of. It was imperfect, but I guess I couldn't love something perfect. How could I believe in something perfect? It's illogical. Perfection is illogical, irrational. And I'm logical and rational. Therefore, in a way, I wanted...no, I needed my book to be imperfect in order to achieve the near-perfection, to get the almost perfect reaction. I still debate with myself whether it was a good thing to give the book away. But I had to. In return, I received a double-hug. You know, that hug when someone is supposed to let go, starts to let go, then hug even tighter for 2 or 3 seconds. My favorite memory, my near-perfect memory. That near-perfect moment. That near-perfect reaction. All of that, because of an imperfect book, which still remains my greatest accomplishment, the greatest object I've ever held. My holy grail.

I've started to write the sequel, and when I'll be done, I'll print it again, revised and ready, and I'll take it to the little old guy who turned the original novel into the greatest book ever made, and I'll make this one into my book. This one won't be hers. Not this time. It will be mine, hoping it will mean as much to me as the first one did. Hoping its near-perfection won't annoy the hell out of me.

You have no idea how much books mean to me.

Monday, October 23, 2006


I really need to start moving, to do something with my life. Get out of here. Next week, I'll get that driving license, which will allow me to leave whenever I want. I will finally be able to do the things that need to be done, but for which I can never find any time. I have a few plans. I had plans three weeks ago as well, and those had to be thrown out the window, but some of them can be recycled.

I need to go. I hate Canada. Oh hypocritical Canada! Oh very sad Québec! I shouldn't be insulting places. I can insult any country or continent, if i want to. Oh corrupted Italy! Oh two-faced France! Oh plastic USA! Oh drunk Ireland! Just kidding... I guess I could with time and effort find one sober irish. Don't we just love the irish?! Oh Fighting Irish!

Talking about Fighting Irish, Jeff Samardzija is a freak.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Quote of the day

There's a fine line between fishing and just standing on the shore like an idiot.
- Steven Wright

Thursday, October 19, 2006

Give a man too much time to think and he will think too much.

Me, 15 minutes ago (actually, I came up with it six days ago).

The Magic 8-ball saga goes on...

I keep asking the magic 8-ball the same two questions: "Will she one day be with me?" and "Are your answers worth anything?" It keeps answering positively to the former and negatively to the latter. So, basically, it tells me what I want to hear, but reminds me it's just bullshit.

My burning obsession has become more of a calm obsession, like a residual obsession. Last week, I met her. It was fun. We spent an hour walking and talking. We didn't talk about anything, really. Just whatever came up to mind. I made her laugh, she made me laugh. It's pretty much as much fun as I can possibly have. There's something extremely rewarding in making a pretty girl laugh, you know. It was only one hour, but it was probably what I had needed for a couple of years now. I now wonder if it wasn't all that time we spent without seeing each other, just emailing and chatting every now and then, that turned a friendship into an obsession. Give a man too much time to think and he will think too much (to be quoted).

I had to be reminded of that friendship, of that fun, to calm the obsession. For the first time, it didn't feel awkward. Perhaps it was because we were walking, and I had a reason not to look at her, this time (I usually like to look ahead, in case I'd walk into something that would like nothing more than hurt me, like a wall or a cliff). I say it didn't feel awkward... it didn't for me. I suppose it was a little for her. Imagine walking and talking with a guy, and you know that guy is or at one point has been in love with you, and you never know if or when you'll have to confront feelings that aren't yours, but in spite of you concern you.

It's nice to know that every once in a while, she cares enough about me to accept to spend some time with me when I'm somewhere between depression and distress, just like last week. The few days before and after october 12th are always tough. These are days I want to spend with people who will pay attention to me, and not in a "hey look at me" kind of way. More in a "hey, it's for you today" kind of way. She did it for me. I'll thank her, one day.

I wonder if she realizes how important she can be. Maybe not all the time, and assuredly not for everyone. But every day, in something she says, in something she does. I'm sure every day she impacts others lives, if only a little. But she just doesn't know it.

That's the kind of thing I know. That's the kind of things I'm sure of. I'm way more reliable than Magic 8-balls... oh! the blasphemy!

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Can anyone prove, without a doubt, that I'm not the greatest guy in the world?

Didn't think so.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

I asked the Magic 8-ball if I was an hopeless fool and it said "You can rely on it."


As Bobby Blue Bland sang: "If looooooooooooooooooooving you is wroooooooooooooong, I don't want to be right."

Monday, October 16, 2006

laws break down

That fucking magic 8-ball keeps saying the same thing, over and over. It's defying the laws of probability right now. It's not a 51%/49% ratio. It's a 98%/2% ratio. I have asked it close to 50 times (I don't know the exact amount), and it said "no" only once so far.

If I can't believe in something as reliable as the laws of probability, how can I believe this world is real? Laws can't, or shouldn't, break down for me. I'm the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world (but I don't either sing or dance). I don't even care about myself or what happens to me. Why would the entire universe, through a magic 8-ball, care about me enough to change the laws of probability in my favor?

If you're waiting for a sign, try asking a question to a magic 8-ball. It will change your life forever.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

My Magic 8-ball said...

My Magic 8-ball said I had a chance. I asked it several times, and 90% of the times, I get a positive answer to questions like "Will she one day change her mind?" or "Will she one day be with me?". If the Magic 8-ball says it, it has to be true.

I should tell her what the magic 8-ball has said. She'll realize she just can't fight it, or prevent it. It WILL happen. She just doesn't know it yet.

Wait a second, I'll ask again... "Will I make her happy?"... "Cannot predict now"... dammit... I'll try again... "Yes - definitely." !!!

Again. No kidding. The Magic 8-ball said it.

P.S. I don't believe in fate, in any god or in horoscopes, but I do take Magic 8-balls really seriously.

Saturday, October 14, 2006

Wrong era


I want to write, but I feel like the only things I have in mind are the same old complaints about life and love and boredom. I guess that's the product of five years of celibacy. Give a man too much time to think and he will think too much.

I was reading old emails today. I read one email that said something like: "There's nothing more important than human relationships. Image and style don't matter. Relationships are all that is real and important."

I wish that could be true. But it isn't. Image does matter, and style. Our minds are conditioned since we were born to like things better than others. Even I, being the greatest guy in the world, being the all-understanding, all-giving, prince of this world, am influenced by image as well. Sure, I don't give too much importance to clothes and all, but a nice girl who doesn't attract me probably won't get a shot.

That's the only reason I can think of why I don't get a shot, myself. Up to this point, nothing has ever led me to believe I am not, in fact, the greatest guy in the world. So technically, I would deserve a great or less than great girl. Why can't I get the girl?

Is it because there's only one I want, and I'm just not her type? Image, style... behaviors even, perhaps. I'm just not what people look for in a man. I'm a man who would have been right in his place in another place, in another time. Firenze, 1303. Oh man... how prized a catch would I be...

how sad

My last two hugs received were by the same person, and almost two years apart. How sad is that?


Anyone wants to come to italy with me, and kick my ass along the way?

I get the feeling that I won't make it if I don't get a huge kick in the ass. I'm too lazy. Too scared. Too careless.

I can even loan money, extremely low interest rate (like 0%). You could pay me back $20 a week on a long time period. Something like a thousand dollar a year, for as many year as needed. I'm so desparate, so afraid that I will never be able to do it.

Or someone just take me by the hand. Force me to buy a plane ticket. Something.

Friday, October 13, 2006

I almost had something to say

Human soul appears to be a residue. It's the excess of our consciousness.

I have no idea where I wanted to go with this. I'm not even sure it makes sense for those who aren't in my head. And those who are in my head, what the hell are you doing in there?!
This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time.
Chuck Palahniuk

Thursday, October 12, 2006


Even though I had an interesting day, I still wish I wasn't alone tonight.

An aura of death hovers around most of the people I've considered friends at one point or another. It starts with my very first friend, whom I presume to be dead by now. Then, Éric, the best friend who committed suicide. The list goes on. I don't want to get into it much more, because there's someone on that list I'm trying not to think about at the moment.

At times I've wondered whether I attracted people who were likely to die or if I was attracted to people who were likely to die? In Audrey's case, my very first friend, how could I only know she was going to have leukemia and eventually die... no way I could be aware of it at that time. Let's just call it a coincidence. Or maybe I'm just looking for death around me more than most. Perhaps everybody has that friend who committed suicide, that other friend who had a disease or that other friend who died in a car crash. Perhaps tons of people have all three of those, just like me, but they just don't make as big a deal about it as I do. I feel like these deaths will always be with me, that I will always keep them close to me. In a dream, I named my first child Audrey. I suppose that in that dream, my first baby boy would have been Éric. The third? I don't know. There are names I absolutely want to avoid.

I don't want to sleep alone tonight. My bed feels like a coffin. I hate october 12ths.


How awesome is that?! Yesterday I wrote that I didn't want to work today. This morning I asked my Magic 8-ball if this was going to be a good day, and it said "Most likely". Guess what? My boss called at 6am to tell me not to show up, because of the rain. How cool is that?!

Oh, phantom of Éric, working for me, you kick so much ass!!

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

I don't want to work tomorrow

Tomorrow will be the sixth anniversary of my best friend's suicide. I usually consider that event as the beginning of my acceleration towards insanity. I was already on a gentle slope before, but from that moment, it became steeper than I could handle. I started having intense issues with people, dealing with them, just being with them. I became more and more anxious every day, until I could just find an original way to give up. I've never really given up the same way. I wouldn't let myself do that. I always had to surprise people, to shock them a little. Each time, it was a message I sent, saying: "Fuck your expectations, world, fuck it!"

I worked on disappointing people ever since, because anything short of pure admiration wouldn't be enough, and I'd rather just be overlooked, underestimated, underappreciated, than being just another ordinary guy. Duality, again. The truth is that I, myself, can't stand being in the middle of the pack. I've always described myself as an observer, a character on the edge of a painting, out of focus, barely noticeable, looking at the scene without apparent interest. It gives me a sense of superiority. It usually means that I'm not the victim of any given event, since I'm not active in any of these events.

This is my downward spiral of passivity. It started 19 years ago. It prevented me from preventing my best friend's suicide, six years ago. It's preventing myself now from getting the very admiration I crave. But honestly, am I not spectacular in my disappointing kind of way?

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

spasmic memories

I see people every day that I probably won't really remember in a year from now. Only occasionnally will I think about them, a bubble in the space-time continuum. They will come back like spasms and will leave me mostly unchanged, but some other times, a little fazed. Yep.

I feel like a bit of a psycho

Sometimes I get the feeling that I'm either the most intelligent man in the world or the stupidest (and the most naive) one. I'm more realistically somewhere in between, but I guess the conscious mind needs to rely on an extreme. During the last 3 or 4 last centuries, we've developped binary languages that today are used to communicate with computers.

But along the way, we've also discovered that our minds work a bit of the same way, only that we don't call it binarity, we call it duality. It's either day or night (dawn is so inappropriately ignored). It's either black or white. Good or evil. God, the Devil. Love, hate. Yes, no. Nothingness, infinity.

But really, to what extent we are either one or the other of two poles is so hard to tell that we end up just claiming the closest one as ours. There are no socio-capitalists. Those right in the middle are generally called capitalists and are despised. I'm harder to define I guess, in that I call myself a capitalist, and I encourage capitalism, yet I don't buy stuff, I don't consume much, I don't pride myself in owning anything and give little to no worth to material possession. Yet, the money I have saved, I wouldn't want to share it with everybody. I would only share it with the people I deem worthy. Maybe one day, I will own nothing, but I'll die with an morbidly obese bank account and some lucky people will inherit an interesting amount of money (these people are still to be selected). Or maybe that I could be willing to give some of my money so that someone I love can achieve something important, or merely for surviving. I've been known to loan money to people who couldn't pay their rent, for a month (which reminds me, that guy still owes me money... on the to-do list).

I got a bit off-topic there... wait, did I really have a topic? Duality? No, that was already part of the digression. Psychosis, according to the title? A little. I think we can agree on the fact that I'm abnormal. Psychotic, not really. Psychotic is a little extreme, and as I've explained, I'm probable somewhere between sane and insane, just like anybody else. But seeing where I am, the balance is slightly tilting towards insane.

I just realized something really relevant to what I'm doing here: I don't actually have anything to say.

Saturday, October 07, 2006

I love scientific metaphors

Inertia wraps us up, drags us down... yet we're not even together. We are at the same location, at the same time, but we're in separate dimensions.

As much as I love hyperdimensional physics, I love my hyperdimensional relationships. My despair is the superstring I'm strangling myself with.

Disconnected. Out.

Repetition of an already posted quote. I can do that.

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

Fight Club

Those who wonder about relevance, you have no idea how relevant it is.

Friday, October 06, 2006

The pad

I have a notepad half filled with thoughts about her. I'm insane. I'm still filling that notepad.

I can't stop it

I absolutely had to quote that. God bless Isaac Asimov.

Q. Can the future be changed, Dr. Seldon?
A. Obviously. This courtroom may explode in the next few hours, or it may not. If it did, the future would undoubtedly be changed in some minor respects.
Q. You quibble, Dr. Seldon. Can the overall history of the human race be changed?
A. Yes.
Q. Easily?
A. No. With great difficulty.
Q. Why?
A. The psychohistoric trend of a planet-full of people contains a huge inertia. To be changed it must be met with something possessing a similar inertia. Either as many people must be concerned, or if the number of people be relatively small, enormous time for change must be allowed. Do you understand?

-from the Trial of Dr. Seldon in Isaac Asimov's "Foundation"


I stole that quote from Mary. I don't think Mary has any idea who I am though.

And the QTR (Quote Theft Ring) strikes again!

Quoting myself again. Great or pathetic? Both!

"There's a reason why I don't want to be clear. That reason remains unclear... how paradoxical!"


Just saying

I feel like crap today. Is it that pain on the entire left side of my upper body? Maybe. Is it that self-limiting obsession I have? You know, the one I can't get over and move on from. Just think about it. You get it now? No?! What the fuck!? There's a reason why I don't want to be clear. That reason remains unclear... how paradoxical! I'll have to quote that one later (yes, as I proved in the past, I'm egocentric enough to quote myself).

I feel like crap because my mind again is paralyzed. Ok... I won't write it in an email or in a chat, so if you (and I hope you know who is you, otherwise, it might be confusing) read this accidentally, I can't be held to full responsibility. Here it is: all I do is think about you. When I go to bed. When I dream. When I wake up. When I work. When I listen to music. When I write. When... well, there are more disgusting occurences of me thinking about you, but I don't need to name them (and by disgusting, I don't mean it in that sense, rather that other more disgusting sense, that is completely natural, by the way). It's driving me insane.

Sorry for the millions at home who don't understand.

I'm part of the quote theft ring

If you want to really hurt your parents, and you don't have the nerve to be gay, the least you can do is go into the arts. I'm not kidding. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practising an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.

- Kurt Vonnegut

Thursday, October 05, 2006

I was ready to pass the test, but my car wasn't. It failed the inspection. Damn. I'm so pissed. I'll have to wait until october 30th to do it. I had plans. They're all going to hell now. Fuck it.

Quote of the day

It's no longer a question of staying healthy. It's a question of finding a sickness you like.
Jackie Mason
I had never been nervous before a test. I didn't sleep last night. Is it what everybody feels before an exam or is it just my fear that I might just kill someone with a car?

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

3 libras again

I will never say it enough, that song is great.


Game of the week


Try to get the dude to do a full loop.

Energy of the vacuum

Human psyche is an open system. It can be influenced by unknown energy inputs, and everything changes within the psychological entity without its conscious owner be the least aware of it. Imagine millions of subconscious psychological patterns, all intertwined, mutually influenced and influencing. The human spirit is the most dynamic entity I can think of, because it can think about itself. What the universe lacks is consciousness. It is an infinite pile of small complexities all interconnected to some extent, and while we can't really grasp all the interconnectedness of it yet, we can imagine what it is like. That's this ability to hypothesize that separates us from the wonders of the universe. Intelligent life IS the greatest wonder of the universe. An intelligent form of life like us WITH imagination IS the greatest wonder of the universe. Just imagine a race of ultra-advanced aliens with no sense of humor...

Sure, our minds can create evil, can create sadness, fear and hopelessness. But our minds, being open systems, can be structurally modified through the input of an external source of energy. External to our minds, maybe even external to our dimension. But being a part of this universe, a very important part of this universe, we can use the thread of the universe to sow our wounds shut. We can extract out of the vacuum what ties us all together. A source of energy impossible to understand. One one can only imagine. But it is there. It runs through every dimension, taking something here to bring it there. It provides energy to every system, whether they are blackholes or reactions to a tear or a smile, and prevents them from collapsing under the weight of the ever increasing chaos.

It is believed that we can consciously tap into that river of energy, that not only can we use its energy, but that we can also use it to communicate with any other ion in the universe. Parallelly, it is believed that human DNA can be structurally modified by strong emotions. Just imagine killing that cancer with a smile, fighting that depression with a laugh.

In nihilism some people see the downfall of human spirituality. I see in nihilism the liberation of the mind from the patronizing of religions and politics. The universe is beyond that. I see in a new nihilism the union of history and progress. In the vacuum lies our true power. In our minds lie the key to open the door.

Monday, October 02, 2006


According to the Laws of Thermodynamics, entropy, the measure of the disorder in a closed system, and its direction -- toward increasing disorder -- cannot be reversed. This theory is not in question, even when the nature of closed systems is at issue. The increase in entropy is contained in the Second Law of Thermodynamics, and effectively states that the arrow of time (time theoretically being one-directional) requires everything to proceed toward ever increasing chaos, such that all structures are ultimately doomed.

However, in an open system, there can be an influx of energy into the system capable of reinvigorating the structure -- in full accord with the Second Law of Thermodynamics. Energy input can decrease entropy, and can simultaneously increase order. Furthermore, the more structured a system, the more energy is required to increase the structure, or even to maintain the status quo -- what in physics is termed “equilibrium”.

Entropy is not purely a physics term. It can also be applied to everything from gardens to societies. Gardens, for example, which are extremely ordered, i.e. all tomato plants, are highly susceptible to disorder simply because one tomato bug could do in the whole garden. But when the garden has a multitude of different plants, then there is greater stability. Less order implies greater stability. More order implies greater instability, unless there is an energy input into the system. Societies which are highly regimented need a massive input of energy (covert and overt police/laws on every corner, propaganda and public relations for every contingency, and the tools to accomplish all of the above). These are the basic requirements just in order for the society to continue to function. In effect, the more laws a society or culture has, the more energy is needed to fuel the laws’ enforcement, and the greater the instability of the society. Which is why communism in Russia failed to keep up with the rest of the world.



I can quote too

Oh name for ever sad! for ever dear!
Still breath'd in sighs, still usher'd with a tear.


O'er the pale marble shall they join their heads,
And drink the falling tears each other sheds;

Eloisa to Abelard, Alexander Pope

Sunday, October 01, 2006

I'm fate's bitch and I feel so used.