Ok, a bit of context, it's 2 in the afternoon and K and I ate some brownies in the morning, special ones.
it's amazing. Way more mellow and good that a split. Here it goes up slower and lo,ger.
It's goes from the stomach to your throat and your nose up to the head. THe high is good my brltherssss
SO yeah way better than a split when the high goes straight to the head and punch you in the face and makes you want to be on a ship in the middle of a storm in the bermudas triangle rather than sitting on this chair smoking with these 5 people who feels like their are a thousand in the room/
yeah so We had sex after the funny brownie and tripped out for half an hour later out of our head on the bed. boy that's also gooooooood.
so now the plan is to eat something and got get a coffee in rainy stockey (stoke newington little name for the connoisseurs).
Bisous from highhhh above.
René, je vous aime et j'ai hate de vous voir bientôt à parisiiiii
Bisous d'amour de love du ciel.
PS : I hereby vow to not change or correct the text from now on the monday 14 nov the 2016 at 14:19 in the afternoon to keep the authenticity of this writing and wo'ds intact. Written in the stone of my macbook white 2008 santa rosa HARD DRIVE. BTW I need a new computer this one is really ((..Here i mark a pause in the text because K just told me "I want to eat some french fries" and I totallystopped writing to kiss her and tell her that we should order burgers from deliveroo right now and that's a great idea but finally now we gonna wait to logo and theres food just on thi kitchen…))
yeah this one computer is old realluy. II need a faster new one but i like this sitty old one, it keeps me focused on the writing. Not the gaming, internet and all this bullshit everything else.
I tap and tap and tap and on the keyboard like a mother fucking hemingway in the movies and i feel like kerouac on the road of his writing machine beating the shit out of the ink.
Yah my friends, that's a high and on drugs writing experience right there. In the mind of a higjhman?.
"Pleaaaase Renouuu, I want some food" is saying me K on the bed next to me on my right. The window is open on our grey sky in London. Not rain todayyyyy heyyyy/
Here is my queue. René's out. Peace. and I hereby engage, will you marry me ?
(here is explained to K the signification of the quote "I hereby engage, will you marry me ?" that is fgonna become my signature from now on. ) René's out for a second time now.
I have the extra strengh to publich on the blogg noW.
I am angry that a guy this dumb was elected, of course, like Marine Le Pen and other political figures, Trump is the kind of people in which you can sense bad, ignorance and stupidity in the speech, the face and overall being. Some books you can judge straight from their cover.
That is one thing and I first wondered how a country can pass through this obviousness of a dick he appears to be. Maybe he's really smart, as Le Pen might be, and knew all along which levers to use, whom to adress etc. he and his team might be strategic geniuses, mean geniuses.
Then I observed people's reaction, as I lay silent, I watch and I listen.
Acta non verba, j'écoute et puis j'écris.
Fact is I'm even more angry at all my virtual entourage who are so amazed by the results of this election. Fuck. it's a vote, people expressed their feeling and voted for this dump. Fact.
After so much wrong polls and surveys, the first thing you do is to publish some more polls about who voted, etc. in order to find a reason for this, to make sense. God you're good.
Please stop with your "WTF" "How is that possible ?" "Amazing". Dick. Yeah sometimes it's good to write Dick. or Dickhead. You try.
You and I people, considering we live in the same "socio economic bubble", are ignorants. We know everything, we have access to all the movies in the world, books, culture and so on, like never before.
Art, comic books, Tv Shows, name it, write it, click it, you have it, and yet you are sad. At least I am. We've never been so cultivated but yet we are disconnected from the reality of less "cultivated" people, as we'd like to think, with different backgrounds than us and different vision of the World.
"They watch Transformers when I watch La Grande Bellezza, does that make me a better man ?"
My education, my sensibility and so on, made me able to feel the bad in Trump, right it in my irritable guts. But is it the same with others, who's goal is not to eat culture as I pride myself to be, but just survive, live, strive and go on. Humans, different than me, in a lot of ways, but my own.
On Facebook, outside, in the world, I follow, I talk, I share with people that share my ideas, my tastes, my Point of View, we do not engage with people from the other side, we do not "Follow" them.
It's like seing only one side of the mountain, the one on witch you are walking, not the other. But the other side exists, think, love and suffers the same as you, it's just that we are less aware of that because it is not on our news feed.
My goal in life almost, is to read many books. To eat culture. That might also be a curse for when all this knowledge just makes you sad, Bojack.
I believe Seymour Glass, Salinger's Franny and Zooey's brother, kills himself for knowing too much. Suicide could be a way out of it for when the sponge becomes soaked.
But that's another question for Deroxat 20mg.
I stopped listening to music on the street and instead I walk with podcast in my ears, WTF from Marc Maron on top of my list. I am looking for knowledge, it's my gold. I want to Know.
I want to be a writer, to watch and write movies, poems, fiction, everything. I had the chance to live in a family and a socio economic context favorable to the development of brain, education, sensibility and all that really non tangible grasp.
But not all of us do, some are called "pussies" if they read, bullied if they write and punched if they try to be smart, to expend the brain against the level of their peers. Pear, Apple.
Fact is we do not talk, as we are scared to express an idea that might be different. Crucified on the timeline of the common thought. I despise all the ideas of far right, but I start to despise even so the crap line of the left, sharing the same ideas, following artists, celebrities and musicians whom all rallied with Hilary, being "with Her", because this is the trend and it's not worth questioning. You think Jay-Z or all the models, musicians and beautiful people I follow on Instagram makes me want to share their ideas... nope.
I follow them on social media, I observe them, and I stare at the empty, just to fill myself.
Except for the camera frame that might make you throw up, this is worth watching to get my point.
So Yeah Trump is the new one, but it's no surprise you motherfuckers. You, obsessed by social media, digital, Oculus, tvShows, etc. you are so out of the real world that when the reality rings at your door you are shocked when you open the door to see the face of a stinky human being.
In your hipster bubble, the one I am in, you think all your friends on FB and Twitter and the media you follow, your media, the one on the internet that is smart, sarcastic, funny and wit, is the media of everyone. Conan and Louis C.K are not america.
No asshole, I am angry because you don't realize the state of the world and you are surprised when a dick access the post of POTUS. Wake up, you live in the luxury of you smartphone, your apps and your digital world. I do too but I am conscient of my emptiness and I just embrace it with junk food and some pills.
Also I have a cute girl who sleeps next to me and the warmth of her feet in the bed makes me feel less sad and alone.
You, and I, don't know the least about the struggle of everyday people. Your sphere of "friends" is not the world as London is not Britain and New York or California is Not the USA.
Accept that you were wrong and open your eyes. I know I close mine everyday but I still sense that everything is wrong and that I don't deserve this privilege of not worrying about too much stuff.
I have a good example, I really don't like Casey Neistat. He is for me the proof of things gone wrong in an over consuming america. Made from nothing, he is now at the head of a Youtube empire with millions of views. But I don't think the guy is taking us in the good direction, us, all of his viewers. Once an average guy, he represent the american success story, the guy that is no more conscious of the world around him. He helps his UPS delivery man to pay for hospital fees by a kick starter campaign...come on America, this is the typical success story hiding all of the others dying from lack of decent health care access. But we watch this and the hero saved the day by saving his delivery man's sister. Truth is, Casey might just have saved his own ass, what would be the guy without his daily UPS parcel deliveries of useless shit to film ?
When I look at his videos, and I do watch them, I see a kid, opening all his parcels of toys, gadgets, drones, skateboard and consuming like I'll never do in a lifetime. I stare at what is Great America !
An overdose of things.
His studio is a factory with a million of screens and plugs and so On, don't tell me this guy has any "ecological" concern. He consumes stuff and energy, all the time in a big quantity. He travels and pollutes more in a week than me in a year. And yet, his latest video is called "Trum won".
As a political claim, a surprise maybe ?
Just watch this video. For me, the reason it's all wrong in the USA and Trump won are all in the first 5 minutes of the Video. Consume shit, spend energy, leave all your screens open, receive toys and gadgets that are worthless, made in China and make a video about it.
I respect his self made man situation and energy and productivity, but I don't think it's the good way.
Just like Jerome Jarre for me was the peak of emptiness. How a guy like that could become the hit of snapchat, represent France in the US, be the new most funny guy... ouch it hurts. The lack of charisma of this Jerome made me really spiral in the dark. Specially a video where J. "steals" the camera of Casey in New York to express how much he loves him and respect him... Big Ball Sucker. BBS j'en place une.
Men, read, learns, grow and stop sharing void to the world, you are just participating in the failure of it all.
Like when Leonardo DiCaprio makes a movie about Global Warming... fuck this is swell.
Before the flood.
The guy is so rich and famous that his agent and communication team some years ago must have told him :
"Leo, you need to find a cause, a purpose for the masses, don't just party and fuck models man... Also be discrete about your friendship with financial sharks and money laundering scandals."
Then this guy, peak of the lies, makes a movie about how we need to save the planet, creates ecology organization and appears as the face of "caring for the planet". God, it's killing me.
Open your eyes, and cry, because this is happening, I believe it's all going to shit, until we decide to wake up and act.
I hereby Engage, will you marry me ?
Well, by writing this at least I feel like I am participating in the fight, I picked a side and won't be ashamed when all my grand kids will ask me
- "what have you done Pépé René ?"
I'll say :
- "Me ? I watched movies, red and wrote books and ate lots of blue m&m's.
- So you did nothing grandpa...?!
- Well yes, but I wrote about the fact that these guys were doing wrong, and that's doing something right, no ?
- You still have some of these blue M&M's granpa...?"
Un dément, un fou qui veut devenir un ours parce que la société ne lui convient pas. Soit.
Son choix est respectable, mais sur sa mort, je préfère le silence du pilote d'avion aux pleurs de ses amis. Un voyage dans la nature sauvage d'un homme, dérangé. Passionnante exploration des ressorts psychologiques de celui qui s'échappe de la société pour se trouver une autre mission, dénuée de tout sens mais auquel il s'accroche par besoin de survie.
Ce n'est pas les grizzlys qu'il cherche à sauver, mais son âme, en se donnant une raison de vivre, n'importe laquelle, à savoir sauver la peau de l'ours.
C'est un documentaire de Werner herzog sur un illuminé, un gentil qui s'auto proclame gardien des grizzlis, protection dont n'ont nul besoin ces colosses à en écouter un expert sur place.
Non, pris d'une mission divine, Timothy Treadwell, en sait plus que tous, puisqu'il est sur le chemin de devenir cet animal qu'il chérie.
Ces petits moments devant la caméra où il replace ses cheveux au dessus de ses lunettes pour sa 4ème prise révèlent le désespoir d'un homme qui cherche à plaire, à trouver sa place, à se filmer pour se montrer en héros, en sauveur d'un peuple qui ne peut pas lui dire d'aller se faire foutre, à par grogner, voir finalement le manger. En effet je peux aussi devenir le protecteur des manchots du monde entier, être le porte parole de ceux qui n'ont pas de voix, mais peut être que s'il pouvaient parler, ils me dirait que je suis un con et que ma place n'est pas sur la glace...
Car c'est peut être le dénouement, un ours qui en a eu marre d'entendre cette voix nasillarde sur son territoire et a juste répondu présent à l'appel de la nature, ce simple besoin de nourriture, qu'elle soit à tête blonde ou à écailles.
En vain, il va terminer dans le ventre d'un grizzly affamé. Quête et succès ultime pour ce doux timbré et sa voie d'enfant innocent. Oh pauvre idiot, tu auras vécu heureux sans antidépresseurs.
A entendre l'enregistrement audio de ta mort, ça a du piquer de se faire croqué par la bête, mais tes cris resteront à jamais dans ma mémoire comme la voix d'un homme qu'on libère.
Entre les cris et la jouissance d'accomplir ce pourquoi il a vécu.
Mais il y'a aussi là les animaux eux mêmes et leur indifférence vis à vis de cet homme dont ils n'avaient aucun besoin, ce imbécile heureux qu'ils ont accueillit assez longtemps sur leur territoire pour finalement s'en nourrir.
Herzog de conclure : "dans leurs visages, il n'y a pas de reconnaissance, de lien ou de compréhension. Aucune pitié" pour cet humain présent sur la chaîne alimentaire empruntée par le grizzly l'ayant dévoré. Lui qui voyait en eux le salut, n'était pour eux qu'un morceaux de viande blonde.
Mourir et renaître en ours, Avoir vécu heureux et imbécile.
You hear the wheels of the five nice to fivers. The darkness is awoken by the cycle bells.
A shadow appears in the lights for a brief moment,
catching the promess of your emptiness.
There is no one on the canal, just passengers.
First bike accident today. I was cycling towards a flat to visit in Hackney, feeling ok, hoping it was gonna be a nice place.
At one light, I was just turning left when I felt the pressure of a big black form coming from my right, it all happens real quick and you don't understand how is it even possible that someone does not realize you exist, you, the center of your own universe, means nothing to another person.
The turn was a bit tight for the van to pass between the pavement so he probably decided it was better to rush me to the left, even by making contact with me, the ant on wheels.
I stop as fast as possible, hurting my left ankle in the process and the side of his van twisted the axe of my right pedal. Under the shock of this, I just had the time to check his fucking car plate. Not being able to chase him because the accident made my bike chain derail.
I think the driver needed to pass quickly and realized in the turn that on his right side was the pavement and on the left something that could move more easily than concrete, so the choice was quick, pushing me towards my own pavement.
Look right, look left, and also be careful of fuckers in you back.
Fucking L.
I just look at him cry, as soon as we entered the plane, I knew it was gonna happen, I've seen the look on people's faces before, but never for my own blood. I see his face being torn apart, his cheeks becoming red and the mouth opened like a torrent of emptiness.
I'm deaf and he cries in the plane, that could be the dream of anybody, not being able to endure the torture of your own baby disturbing and giving headaches to a whole plane. I'm just dumb here, not knowing what to do, turing my head around and seeing people blaming me for the noise of another.
But there is nothing I can do, I try to calm him down, to sing a song with a voice unknown to myself. Maybe that's even worse, maybe the abnormal sounds coming out of my mouth, the serenade I hope to be just is just an awful sound for his newborn ears.
I can feel judgment and complain without the words, I am just calm as I am not disturb by the nuisance that is my son at this moment, I still love him as much, I don't regret any decision, I don't ask myself what could have been this trip without this soul sitting on my laps. For me he's just a weight I carry on me, some heat in this cold compressed cabin.
I am actually laughing at his face, enjoying the perks of my condition, smiling at my sidekicks and looking like an angel sharing this trip to earth.
You see, sometimes it's hard not to hear the words but good not to hear the screams.
