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November 21, 2004
souls, salvation of -p.58
amongst the many things that i talked about tonight and in this here blog, i just realized that i haven’t even shared my favourite LC poem yet, and i think i might sleep more easily once this is remedied. i thought of this poem because somehow, something awoke the 7 year old in me today. and i don’t just mean unruliness at the museum or giggling in drugstores, more like being very unsettled, very elated over the understanding of another. here is the poem then now sleep.
the reason i write
the reason i write
is to make something
as beautiful as you are.
when i’m with you i want to be
the kind of hero i wanted to be
when i was seven years old.
a perfect man
who kills.
Posted by nathalie at 03:50 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
November 16, 2004
hey, well i hate you with a crush
At the question, “what do you get out of the use of feedback?” the monks answered, power.
I can’t fall asleep in perfect silence. I can’t even think in thick, bland, heavy silence. The hummm of my computer, the purrr of my cat, low-level tinnitus, all mixes harmoniously with the everconstant hiss of the city. It offers comforting, enhanced silence. So why wasn’t I contented with that, and got myself lured by these stupid much overhyped white noise machines? How naive can I get. Feedback brings me joy, turns me on and helps me think - I figured, white noise in the evening would do just the opposite, lull and cajole and and! it comes with this free white noise CD! for white noise on the go. Well it costed me a fortune, and the suspicious package got stucked for weeks at the customs, during which I whined impatiently to everyone – and when it finally arrived, it sucked, and it came with a special handling from hell, surplus invoice of 10$.
Morale of the story : none. All my dreams are crushed now, let’s go.
Posted by nathalie at 04:45 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
November 06, 2004
now here’s the moon, it’s allright
Tonight was the long-awaited family reunion, to honour my father and his 60th birthday. Everyone was there, people I haven’t seen in years, new babies, prodigal uncles, brides-to-be, travelling from afar. As my dad made his entry, his eyes opened wide. It was a surprise. My mother was looking quite beautiful and triumphant, holding the mapquest map I had sent last month for her careful study; “we didn’t get lost! and I kept the secret!” I could hardly believe.
There were red peppers signs next to every item on the menu, but I jumped in anyway. By dessert time I was beginning to doze off margaritas, and just listening to burst of voices, watching cigarettes fly. “Let’s not even mention politics!” “We’ll all be happy when we retire!” My father was looking longingly at the pile of gifts by the table. Like a good cat, I helped him unwrap. Inside we found books about old-time hockey, fishing paradises, québécois assassins, a phone and something for corks… Quite a loot of chocolate too, evenly divided between us two, as is the tradition.
One after the other, aunts dragged their chair next to mine, sighing, then smiling at me. “It’s so nice to see you. Where is your boyfriend?” “At war”, I said, and they wrapped their arms around my shoulders, cups dangerously close to my mouth. They inquired about work, about my brother. “You keep in touch, don’t you?” It was too loud to answer, with the band playing, the laughters. So I hauled a little cousin on my lap. “Nat, your mom just told me you visited Mexico! How was it?” I pointed to the mariachi band behind us. “It’s like this! It’s great.” I asked him how university was going, and I tried on his glasses. There always is so much catching up to do… sometimes I wish time stopped.
Posted by nathalie at 11:40 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack
November 03, 2004
lonestar beercaps rosary (failed to bring victory)
i didn’t get to sleep much last night, and it almost feels as if i could burst in tears just over the sight of a cute kitten. so we watched the elections unfold yesterday at the korova, and we felt angered and helpless, as images from the CBS and the comedy channel intertwined on the big screen. leon, who said he is looking forward for this very letdown of a weblog entry, though i never make any sense, was eating a strange beast of a poutine involving small peas. the peas were then set apart and mashed with mint altoids, in a vain attempt at recreating moral nausea, solidarity and just plain fucking helplessness or i don’t know if i was just trying to be funny really, but anyway the concoction was dutifully ingested. i am nathalie, canada’s official spokesperson, and send my love to yall, my love and flickr kittens, and a wonderful silly song, scream it.
That man loves you
That man cares for you
That man loves a heathen
That man loves you
Posted by nathalie at 01:05 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack