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Me, soft

Par Lady_M, mercredi 17 novembre 2004 à 03:48 :: The inside world :: #1 :: rss

Pianos can't be guitars

Why is it that I constantly need to talk things away … Si j’en crois le nombre de bloggeurs sans cesse croissant, je ne suis pas la seule à avoir ce besoin et tant mieux …
Il me semble que parler un peu de moi pour ce premier « post » est un passage obligé, n’est ce pas … à mon image, mon blog sera je pense bilingue, un coup en anglais, un coup en français and I am switching constanlty …
Well, I think the world feeds me and it’s my job to make the most of everything I am offered. I was offered a strange and great family, a torn childhood, a playful mind, a big appetite, an irresistible taste for good food/wine, a desperately common power of attraction, a body that sometimes feels too big to carry around, a sharp consciousness of “me”… and a very very “chatterbox nature” …

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Commentaires

1. Le mercredi 26 janvier 2005 à 12:46, par Fred

It is easier to talk than to write. You are "talking" away. I cannot respond. I cannot just take a few seconds to think, and then to speak. I cannot quickly retract what is said, or clarify, or modify, or pretend that you misheard over the background music. It is "writing". It is permanent. It will last longer than paper, even carved stone. It is forever. If it lasts forever, it must be well crafted. It must be worthy. But no, you say. It is just a comment. Few will even read it.

Phew! That's OK then. So I just "speak". Anything. Umm! Err! So, who has the girl at the top just shot? And what is the other one wearing on her head?

2. Le mercredi 26 janvier 2005 à 15:38, par Lady M

Well, I don't really believe in Writing Vs Talking, especially in this blog, where I can actuallt erase and modify everything I write. (I even modified the post you commented). This is no carved stone cause I am no stone. I hate stones.
I change my mind a hundred times a day.
The pictures are taken from www.wrecovery.com/scarlet... , inspired by a Tori Amos album.
So, who are u Fred ?

3. Le jeudi 27 janvier 2005 à 09:17, par Fred

Fred? Well, that's just my nom de plume as we say in English. Just a flag of convenience. A label. A pet name that my mother used for me and still does. Fred doesn't have a surname. If he did, it would be Bloggs......

I can't go on. Not in the sense that I'm about to hurl myself from my third floor window (I'm not sure that the windows open far enough, and it's very cold outside) but rather that first paragraph was where I got up to yesterday. For me each day is a new beginning (not so much a philosophy of life, more a byproduct of a poor episodic and auditory memory) but more so today. I was feeling down in the dumps since the weekend and couldn't work out why. But last night as I was trying to get to sleep I worked out why, so now my blues have gone. It was simple -- I had gone away to somewhere I had expected to be magical, that everyone said is or must be magical, but which didn't live up to my hightened expectations. And now I know why I was sad, I know it's a silly thing to be sad about. I even have some magical memories I brought away, the top one being that the cats were more friendly than where I live now, so I could stroke them as well as talk to them. It might seem strange but that meant a lot to me. Here they just scoot off, well, like a scalded cat.

After that revelation and return to happiness, or at least contentment, it took me ages to get off to sleep. I just had so many things running through my head. Hmm, I'd better add that to my list before I forget. Item 1, phone parents. Item 2, get treatment for head lice. Only kidding!

Aaaagh!! Now my head is itching psychosomatically.

4. Le jeudi 27 janvier 2005 à 09:34, par Lady M

So that's the comment that spent the night behind a frozen screen ?!

Hope your lice did not jump to my head yesterday ...

5. Le vendredi 11 février 2005 à 23:25, par Adil

Been reading you for a while.I log on to your website after long days of work and get a taste of my hometown .You take me back to places I go to when I am on my short visits to Casa..Bodega,Armstrong, and Little Rock(not Arkansas) So I kind of owe you in a certain way.
I also have to admit that homesickness draws me to your diaries as it takes me back to the streets and faces in the moroland.. You seem a bit like an outsider in Casa and a bit disconnected from your surroundings and people.Been trying to figure out your background from your writings but you perfect bilingual skills always throw me off balance and decided to enjoy reading and to control my curiosity.After all ,we Moroccans are like that as we speak and think in at least three languages and our faces are always changing even if we try to keep the same mirror in the bedroom.
I like you narrative style especially in French.Reminds me of Najib mahfood's novels.
Keep up the good work.

Adil