bon j’allais poster une connerie ou une photo ou les deux et puis je suis tomb?e sur Speechless (mais croyez pas que vous ?chapperez aux conneries longtemps)(ou aux photos).
bref, plein de vid?os avec des com?diens am?ricains pour soutenir le mouvement de la Writer’s Guild qui est en gr?ve ? Hollywood. je sais, j’aurais pu ?crire des pages enti?res sur comment ?a a oblig? de raccourcir la saison de Heroes et la prochaine de Lost et plein d’autres s?ries et comment je suis d?g donc, mais voir les retrouvailles de Zach Braff et de sa machine ? ?crire tant aim?e ou des com?diennes qui r?citent les pages jaunes ou woody allen en stand-up silencieux ? boire du th?, ?a vaut son pesant de gr?ves. y’a m?me susan sarandon et patricia arquette et sean penn et demi moore et marcia cross et la top-cute nouvelle actrice de House MD et d’autres que je suis trop inculte pour reconnaitre.
(bon apr?s on pourra disserter sur l’impact ?conomique de cette gr?ve notamment sur les autres professions d’hollywood et tous les techniciens au chomage pendant des mois mais l? n’est pas le sujet…)(en plus, leur n&b est tr?s miam)(et sur youtube c’est par l?.)

on a rigol? b?tement sur les psychodrames inh?rents aux relations amoureuses (ou relations humaines tout court m?me, j’ai pens?) pendant des heures. ? chaque fois qu’on parlait un peu d’autre chose, on finissait par y revenir. so… human. so stupid ouais. je sais pas pourquoi c’est si compliqu?. en m?me temps le fait de vieillir simplifie pas mal de choses. la trouille par exemple. ?a rend plus direct aussi. ?a m’a fait repenser ? mon dernier passage ? la fnuck, avant no?l, et comme il y a quatre ans, au d?tour d’un rayon et d’un regard, la boule br?lante au creux de l’estomac pendant un milli?me de secondes. il y a quand m?me des trucs qui changent pas. cela dit, tu crois pas que j’allais demander un n? de tel non plus hein, y’a des trucs qui changent vraiment pas.
n’emp?che, je me demande si on n’a pas rigol? b?tement l?-dessus histoire de pas dire franchement comment ?a ?puise, la deception. ?a doit ?tre ?a le fameux l?cher prise. plus rien ? foutre. et peut-?tre que c’?tait juste une pose, genre « regarde, je fais du v?lo sans les mains » (« eh regar… » *blam*) mais ?a a fait du bien…
c’est par o? d?j? la simplicit? ? et puis merde on verra bien.

« and you’ll stop me, won’t you
if you’ve heard this one before
the one where i surprise you
by showing up at your front door
saying ‘let’s not ask what’s next,
or how, or why’
i am leaving in the morning
so let’s not be shy »

the best thing with being alone (and a half **) for a few days in your favorite big house is — obviously — to be on your own in your big house for a few days. with all this situation implies of tea, pictures, coffee, good food, long walks on the beach and in the country, doing nothing, tea, fire in the chimney, reading, taking more pictures, long nights of sleep, silence, good music, all combined or in a random order.
the next best thing with being alone for a few days in your favorite big house is to decide that it’s time to come home.
so i’ll be back on friday, with my new camera and about a dozen rolls of film. (which i really don’t have the money to have processed, but that’s a different matter entirely. if you’re my banker, i apologize. if you’re my father eeerrr… i apologize too. if you’re a savior, i have a paypal account. if you owe me money, now is always a good time. if you don’t care and just want to see new gorgeous pictures, that’s still fine, it’s exactly what i want, too.)

oh and happy and beautiful new year and stuff to you all. yes, the four of you who still read me sometimes ;p
this year, i’ll pretend to believe in new year’s resolutions so i’m making one good « resolution » but it won’t count if i tell it. (and no, it’s not to stop smoking)(it’s not to be a better person either)(or to have a lover)(there are things you just have to give up sometimes, you know?)

(**) : yep, the half is psychocat, first because she’s small but mostly because she’s so scared of everything here that i only saw her tail sometimes and heard the sounds of her frantic runs for places to hide)(she’s taken too much after me, i see it now)

but i long for this place i’ve never been to and that i know yet somehow. and as i watch the stars of light made up by reflections and an endless moon behind the clouds, i’m reminded of it, some red sands, sharp mountains and dry bushes i’ve never seen, it’s all buried deep inside me and as i watch slow motion water flow in my screen, i’m mesmerized, i’m hypnotized and i’m hoping it’s washing it all away but i have to find the right speed first.
well, if i don’t fly the whole mess into the sea first… that’s always been the thing with me. i’m already so far.
i long for this place i’ve never laid my eyes upon, for i believe it’s strangely connected to who i am or will be.
i have the right speed.
i only have to find the right music now.
then follow its rhythm.

i’ve dreamt i was angry, but less angry than i was when i finally found sleep. i shouted for a long time to defend someone but by doing so, i was also defending myself. i’m not that surprised to shout like madness itself in my dreams, every day is just another fight to avoid resent swallowing me. i’m even angry at the fact that i’m angry, but i won’t allow it out or i might hurt anyone i touch. it will probably swallow me entirely, eventually, but i can’t care enough, it’s just slightly better than another scar. it’s swirling and crawling under my skin and it sinks deeper with every move i make, so i’m standing very still, just as long as i can make another good picture…
***
i’ve got yet to meet someone who’d understand the urge. i don’t care that much about mere memories, about fixing mere memories. and i really don’t care about showing where i’ve been or what i’ve done, i don’t need proofs. i barely see images when i look at old pictures, i see things beyond that. i watch feelings. mine, others. feelings at the time i snapped the shutter, feelings about about relationships to others, about their feelings toward anything and everything. i’ve really got yet to meet someone who understands this urge. fixing things and faces, either because i was feeling something strong, either because i was craving to feel something which i wasn’t sure was there. a long time ago, i’ve fixed smiling faces to feel like i was there, like i was part of something. now i’m certain that i’m not but i could never be sure that i really was then. and a few pictures don’t prove anything, if you haven’t been taught yet that physical closeness means nothing, you will someday. not that i really wish that anyone would learn that. not in the way i did anyhow.
***
it’s been a while i haven’t felt time. physically. like when you don’t let it flow through you but make plannings and lists of things to do and schedules and keep track of things. i haven’t kept any of my usual ways to plan things and december fills in and it could as well be october or next march and i couldn’t really tell. it might as well be december 2010 or 2002 and i couldn’t really tell and in a sense, it’s liberating. i’m going to have to pay for that somehow, it’s going to fall on my head someday or maybe it already has. like running at full speed into a wall. i’m sort of trusting myself for not being able to settle forever in the mediocre life i’m living right now, but maybe i’ve hit my head against one of my walls one too many times. but honestly now, who cares?
***
i’ve dreamt that i was angry, but it was nothing compared to how angry i was when i fell asleep. maybe somehow i’m not letting anything out and hold on to that because it’s the only way that i know that i do care. and after i shouted my eyes out, someone i can’t know was there and i looked into their sparkling eyes and i saw love…
so… just as long as i’m making pictures i like…

[dewplayer:http://uncover.free.fr/zix/eels-loveless.mp3]
Eels – Love of the Loveless