I introduce to this world ...
Happy Birthday Sonny.
You are what I hold most dear in the world. I love you.
I'm addicted to the internets. Nothing helps, I can (almost not) live without. Almost none, because I arrived at voluntarily, when I retired to my wood témiscouatin yet impermeable cellular phone. Whenever I am confused, however, weaning may take a few hours but once the other it is always easier and return to the city, more scathing.
But in my earthly life and daily in this part of my life that is urban, I can not resist the appeal of these trips more or less long, riding a wave to surge on the other, to swallow and go: share.
I am a hippie at heart . At the trendy sauce, some say. Because I had such networks in the blood in much of my working life as a specialist in computer networks. I also experienced the heyday and the era of internets infancy: the BBS (bulletin board system), Fidonet, Francité ... The common bond of these organizations siliconiens : sharing, discovery of information and people we love and we love less. But this freedom. The freedom. That of free expression.
But I realize once again dreaming too much. The attractiveness of these communities connected is always there for me: a way to continue my process of acquiring data and information about life, about people and one or another of my passions of the moment. However, these beautiful small virtual companies, are unfortunately a reflection of the real society. With the formation of cliques, these squabbles egos vain and useless, where it says accept all people from all walks of life and advocate freedom of expression, one can suddenly disillusioned with the "do as I say, not what I do. " I abhor. At point that the urge to loudly denounce haunts me. Friends sympathetic to this view have been able to draw quietly, without making waves. I admire them so much. And I want to scream.
When issued, it is to be captured. And if one speaks or writes, one must assume that a replica of a legitimate right to exist, that it is positive or negative.
You can not share my point of view. I myself have no power to force you. You can even tell me by commenting in the wake of this post. And it has nothing to do with respect. I am at home here, but I'm always ready to hear you.
You do not even have to love me. And I know too well that if you do not like this blog, nothing obliges you to return. Your visits, would they repeated a couple of times is a sign of encouragement. Although, stubborn and opinionated as I am, I still scribloguer.
Respect, it can be lost.
It can also be returned ...
Not that spring to indulge for large households. Of course, this time of year lends itself well to regeneration, but sometimes life forces us to depart from the beaten track.
Many events have changed my life in recent months. Some have been quite stressful, others simply irritating. Small pleasures, too, scattered here and there helped me cope.
accidents and other coincidences, stuff from left field, and rérévisés revised plans yet. Nothing to complain about!
Over the last 24 hours, I took delivery of a new toy - a brand new digital camera to pursue this passion found - launched a new Web collaboration - details will both in time and place - celebrated with a little (too much) of vino , chatted with some good friends here and there in the internets and peeped my 8 000th tweet in 278 days on Twitter.
I find it astounding that life at times. But I am more than ever!
The time has come for a little housekeeping.
everything I a remnant of life planning. And it begins ... now.
I'll tell you.
Yesterday was me in despair. No light at the end of the tunnel, let alone switch to turn it on ...
drenched in recent months of bad news about cancer, mortality causes bizarre, and other ailments in the family, I fell into those moments of weakness. Melancholy is a nasty cycle where it does not come as easily as it seems.
But today, some very good things started to appear. As I tend to exaggerate sometimes, I'm curled euphoria at times. And for once, I'm not sorry.
Oh, maybe a tad. Nothing more. And no, I will not give excuses for that look of happiness so volatile, I want to take a deep breath. Thank
life!
I get up slowly. Suffice it to resombrer not in the spleen, avoid traps and believe that the fog always ends up. With the help of Galarneau, if necessary.
Another painful day, trying to work my way forward ... And every thought I ever pulling back.
And time goes by, too thin for my hands that quavers of years can not hold him.
I remember little, my father made me laugh, killing unintentionally or not, I'm not so sure, Peter Dudas, singing
Melancholy ... It's in the smoke and they drown in alcohol dreams.
Bartender, until morning filled my glass ...
again tonight I bathe in this melancholy. With smoke. But no alcohol, no bartender to give me. With those two, I already tried it in vain. I try to save what I have dreams of drowning. Without laughing.
I want to find real, strong in this life that seems so cruel. The mountain stands in front of me and I think most high, steep, day by day. Or is the ground swallow me in from underneath the feet.
I'm wanting to flee. I am walled.
I want to take this road ...
I neglected this blog for too long. I was (pre) occupied somewhere else ...
must also say that I lack discipline, in all my scatters. With me, everything is an excuse for procrastination, you know, is not it?
The truth is that all is not well.
My summer did not quite go as I would have liked. My beautiful project témiscouatin scrapes yet, but certain personal events, some uncontrollable situations made me doubt its eventual realization. The schedule was revised and corrected.
A little girl was stolen from loved ones, and I was without words to comfort me, which usually runs from words and (sometimes beautiful) sentences. This feeling of emptiness before (yet) another injustice of life has made me fully ...
An intimate sees his father through his life with cancer and its spectrum watch too closely.
I have invested much effort in other adventures, and I have lost, temporarily at least, more than que j'ai pu y gagner.
J'ai le moral dans les talons. Autrefois, ma mère était là pour m'aider à me relever...
J'y arriverai peut-être. J'en ai vu d'autres.
Oh I’m on my way, I know I am,
Somewhere not so far from here
All I know is all I feel right now,
I feel the power growing in my hair
Sitting on my own not by myself,
Everybody’s here with me
I don’t need to touch your face to know,
And I don’t need to use my eyes to see
I keep on wondering if I sleep too long,
Will I always wake up the same (or so)?
And keep on wondering if I sleep too long,
Will I even wake up again – or something?
Oh I’m on my way I know I am,
Oh life is like a maze of doors
But times there were when I thought not
Bleeding half my soul in bad company,
I thank the moon I had the strength to stop
Now I’m not making love to anyone’s wishes,
Only for that light I see
‘Cause when I’m dead and lowered low in my grave,
That’s gonna be the only thing that’s left of me
And if I make it to the waterside,
Will I even find me a boat (or so)?
And if I make it to the waterside,
I’ll be sure to write you a note – or something
Oh I’m on my way I know I am,
somewhere not so far from here
All I know is all I feel right now,
I feel the power growing in my hair
and they all open from the side you're on
Just keep on pushing hard boy, try as you may
You're going to wind up where you started from
You're going to wind up where you started from
In life as in hockey, so we like to complicate things.
few minutes ago, a reckoning that is taking place for some time through the media has caught my attention, pitting two former characters of my favorite hockey team.
In the left corner, the vegan 's most famous hockey the planet, in the right corner, the former hockey player / coach real or virtual seems constantly in search of answers to his questions existential. What made me squeak:
To develop the back of my mind, I would add that he who shouts the loudest is not necessarily wrong either. These two people live, according obviously a personal conflict. The spread in the public square only exacerbates their case. I do not care if they love each other or not and it has nothing to do with my appreciation for hockey.
That's also in life. If we could resolve such conflicts without exposing them in full view of everyone, we avoid unnecessary many problems. Life is already complicated as it is there, why add a layer?
Guy and George, 2 minutes on the bench for the curiosity fueled gossip. And here, respectfully, my advice: Shaddap your faces.