je pense, donc je suis…

…c?libataire.

d?sol?e, j’ai pas pu m’emp?cher :D

j’aime : ?couter de la musique bien fort toute la soir?e et une partie de la nuit et baisser le volume progressivement, jusqu’? ce que je ne puisse plus qu’? peine discerner les notes dans l’obscurit?..
j’aime pas : que la gosse de ma voisine se mette ? pleurer ? trois heures du matin, que je dorme ou pas, ?a me rappelle trop moi-m?me, gosse qui pleurait au milieu de la nuit parce que j’avais mal ? la t?te.

j’aime : empuantir l’ascenseur avec mon mcdo tout chaud dont je ne vais faire qu’une bouch?e.
j’aime pas : les odeurs de cuisine de ma concierge, la derni?re fois, on se serait cru sur le port de ploumenec une semaine apr?s qu’une grosse mar?e ait ramen? toutes les algues du pacifique et de l’atlantique r?unies. un truc insoutenable.
j’aime : mon encens « oc?an » nature et decouvertes, en revanche.

j’aime : transformer des promesses en surprises.
j’aime pas : les mauvaises surprises, t?t le matin, tard le soir, ou n’importe quand entre les deux.

j’aime : mon kilim juste apr?s avoir pass? l’aspirateur dessus. et y marcher pieds nus.

j’aime pas : les roses sans ?pines.
j’aime : mon nouveau cd : love it or hate it (but rock along)

j’aime pas : avoir l’air ridicule ? me lutter pour rouler une clope en salle de pause quand elle est bond?e de vendeurs, dont la G.b.
j’aime pas, d’ailleurs : que la G.b. ne soit pas si….si….que je le croyais.

j’aime : jouer avec le temps le matin, et me mettre au d?fi de pouvoir me pr?parer en 10 minutes chrono, douche et coiffage compris.
j’aime pas : butchy boss number one, parce qu’elle est comme une cuilli?re tomb?e dans la soupe : on sait jamais comment la prendre.

j’aime : le papier jet d’encre ilford smooth pearl. il est d?licieux.

j’aime, decidemment : mon nouveau cd.
j’aime pas : ne pas pouvoir me mettre au boulot quand c’est long et fastidieux. et ?crire ce post ? la place, donc.

j’aime : r?fl?chir contemplativement ? propos de plein de choses.
j’aime : ?crire des longues lettres et m’excuser de leur longueur en ps.
j’aime : la mani?re dont je signe mes tirages ? pr?sent.
j’aime : r?ver ? tord et ? travers. raconter mes r?ves ensuite.
j’aime pas : ?tre d??ue. par moi-m?me en particulier.
j’aime : ?tre tellement na?ve parfois, que c’est m?me plus marrant d’en profiter.
j’aime pas : ne pas ?tre musicienne en plus du reste.

j’aime : qu’on m’aime pour ce que je suis.
j’aime pas : qu’on m’aime juste pour ce que je fais. m?me si c’est quand m?me moi. surtout quand ce n’est pas tout ? fait moi.

vu et ador? chez L’excentr?e, par Originel : « Cr?er c’est laisser un bout de soi se refl?ter dans l’autre. »

c’est le genre de reflexion ? laquelle il n’y a rien ? ajouter qui me laisse bouche b?e.

there are two kinds of people.
those who can remember their dreams.
and the others.

for 23 years, i thought i was happy with being of the first kind. it’s much cooler in social gatherings when you can just start to tell some really weird dream, or a happy one, or positively, anything you like.
there are just a few rare occasions when i wake up and the dream hits me, with precise details, images, sensations, and i’m like « oh my god, no, this isn’t possible :eek: »

right.
basically, there could be nothing wrong with That dream.
the place is great : my parents place, but just a part of it,
the action is great : sex, but not the whole of it,
the person is cool also : cute, but i won’t go further about that (i’ll just state that it’s not someone of my family, if that can reassure some of my readers)

the problem stands in the final equation because place + action + person = ewww + laughing hard + :eek:

so now i’m trying to figure out why i’ve made That dream, you know, but i’ll try to stick to the fact that i’m too deranged to have responsible and explicable dreams :D

yet, i certainly wish i could ask to someone what the hell was their dreams last night.
just in case they happened to drop by my parent’s kitchen, and why the hell they chose THAT counter. (i woulnd’t need to ask what they were thinking, cause i have a pretty good idea about that)
and if this person is the other kind of people, it doesn’t matter, i have memories for two of That dream.

so it finally starts. or starts again.
and the – quite – sunny weather isn’t really to blame for that.

maybe it started when i got this phone call – which day was it ? – to have a drink with my best friends. we had a good time, too short but good anyhow.
or no, it must have started before that, because the drink was just yesterday.

did it start again when i began to read high fidelity ? possibly, i’m far from being certain of that. what is clear to me, though, is that reading this book was like having memories of things that i never lived. sort of.
or more like memories of the movie, although i’m positive that i never saw the movie, i can’t remember renting the dvd, i haven’t been watching it on television at a friend who has a tv, nor did i when i was baby-sitting the brats, and i certainly didn’t watch it when it came out in theaters. i would remember it, and i still would have the entrance ticket. i’ve checked, i don’t have it.
then, obviously enough, i haven’t see any of it. yet, i remember images from it, i remember john cusack and his flat, i remember precisely how he looks when he’s soaked up after the funerals, i could start to describe the shop as it is in the movie, and the ultimate proof that my imagination isn’t completely fooling me, i do remember something that’s only in the movie, and not in the book : when rob tells barry or dick how he’s going to sell a beta band record and he plays dry the rain…

so what, where does that lead me ? i have memories of images of a movie that i’ve never ever watched.
but all oddities aside, now i’m sure it couldn’t have started with reading high fidelity, because i was still thinking and making my « bloody valentine » pictures then.

alright, i have a hint now, i’ve downloaded the songs from the movie – which, as it appears, aren’t quite the same as those quoted in the book – and i’ve found myself dancing flirteously with my reflection in the window, two days in a row while cooking, on always see your face by Love. this complete outrageous behavior for someone as blue as me – by that i mean both cooking and dancing – was also accompanied by loud singalongs, bedtime before 2 a.m., and less than five cigarettes a day.

see, that’s what i’m talking about, it started again.
you might say that always see your face is a pretty sad love song, look, it starts with won’t somebody please, help me with my misery, can somebody see what this world has done to me. but i’m afraid it won’t cheer me up the least bit, because despite playing it in loop and singing it all day long even at work, it doesn’t even make me think about anyone. it just makes me dance while cooking. what’s wrong with me ?

then well, events just follow one another from this point.

i’ve chatted ! not on any of my ex-chatrooms, just a cool chat with some unknown atlanta girl who was downloading my whole tegan & sara mp3 collection, bootlegs, videos, everything. i even ripped ULFO for her. i EVEN told her the secret places where i buy my collection vinyls and promo cds on the internet. just like that, because she told me i rock for having a shitload of t&s stuff. can you notice some change there ?

the next thing i know, i was returning a phone call, to someone beautiful who wondered how i was doing, wanted to have tea together sometime and hear my cute voice. see ?
then i’m telling you, it’s just falling from one thing to another, i replied to an ex-date – how does that sound ? an ex-date. people have exs for the most part, me, i have ex-dates, people i’ve met and pretty much liked but who just…i don’t know, disappeared just when i thought it would get interesting – so yeah, an ex-date who wants to see me. so i replied and said yes, sure, that would be great, let’s hang around together and get again addicted to starbuks’ – no, french people don’t know how to spell starbuCks correctly – cafe latte. so it’s tomorrow. but that’s not the worst. the worst is that i’m really thrilled about it !

things start to get a bit blurry by then.

it’s been five days that i haven’t been craving for chocolate. experts – mostly women i’m sure – might say that’s it’s just an aphrodisiac, but i’m afraid that chocolate has other virtues and that nobody should deny a woman’s need for chocolate.
whether she’s single or not.
especially if she’s not, though.
and i’m not longer wondering if i shouldn’t rather go helping the garlic industry in transylvania, instead of making art – i’ve read that they’re doing just fine.
i’m not ashamed to listen to tiny dancer, because it makes me think about the movie almost famous, when they all sing in the bus and i nearly cry at that point every time i watch it. so from here, one day i might as well start to listen to coldplay – and enjoy it.

i’ve found myself NOT being utterly bored when working at the shop today. i even found the customers nice and cool, they were smiling and joking, there was a pretty nice bunch of cuties to look at also, and i haven’t able to stop myself before thinking that i’d miss the shop because of the « cuties starings ». that’s bad. really bad.
but again, this isn’t the worst. the worst happened when a cute seller from the third floor threw me a big goddamn look and i smiled back. no, that’s not even the worst. the worst was when i instantly developped a crush after the same seller came to my counter – the most packed – to pay for buster keaton’s anthology dvds. damn, no this isn’t the worst, the worst is that instead of not giving a shit, as usual, even when there are sellers who come to pay something, i became flirteous. ouch. how did that happen ? no idea. it just did. zak. one minute i was having my usual tragic look, the next, i don’t know, i was smiling, joking, gazing into some eyes, and getting smiled back.
don’t look at me like that, i know, it’s bad, it wasn’t my fault, it just happened.

then a couple of friends dropped by and after that, i was cooked : i was definitely in a good mood. not the kind of good mood that will go away with your friends and the echo of your laughs, no, the good mood that makes you say you had a good day, the kind of good mood that gives you a boost for working in the evening, and not just that, the good mood that makes you write all sort of nice emails to friends and unknown people as well, the good mood that makes you burn great cds, the good mood that makes you look at your next weeks plans with enthusiasm, the kind of overall energetic good mood. the kind that is there to stay, at least a few days, maybe more,
especially if you’re not working the two following days,
especially if you’ve begun to read a good book,
especially if you’re listening to good music,
especially if you’re going to have tea with someone beautiful, nice, kind, funny, bright, talented, caring…yeah, well, *sigh* crush number one, sort of…
especially if you’re going to see an ex-date, who might possibly become an ex-ex-date, a kind of new date somehow,
and especially if you’re getting that feeling that it’s starting, it’s starting again, and that the – quite – sunny weather isn’t really to blame for that…

you know, that feeling about having it good…