On friendster I've changed the part "about me" tonight.
For those of you who don't go on friendster, well here it is.
A little crappy poem about myself.

Because it's crap, but readable, I thought of putting it here. Voilà...

Ok. I’m weird. I know. I see things others don’t. Not with my eyes and not really with my head either. But at the same time it uses my head to reason and my other 5 senses to rationalise it. It’s hard to explain without sounding/feeling foolish or pompous. I think the closest thing that comes to mind to categorise my strangeness, is what we all have come to accept as being named “the sixth sense”. What ever you think that is, I have my own views on it.

 

One thing. I’ve accepted tonight that I am but a living extension of my ancestors. The soul driver of the lorry carrying their genes. They’ve lived and died and now continue living through me. Millions of them. I wonder if one of them ever thought of this, if they ever envisioned who would carry their living cells beyond the realms of their own living body. Trivial? Maybe, maybe not.

 

My grand-father called me “Le grand livre” when I was about 4 years old, which means in French the big book. He named me in this fashion because I would lecture him and explain to him facts of life, wisdom, ideas, concepts, that most people would not expect from such a small boy. When he asked where I got all this knowledge, I simply told him “don’t you know?”.

 

Strange that I remember this encounter and his reaction at this precise moment in my life. He simply nodded, stuffed his pipe of some spicy aromatic tobacco, reclined in his big black leather lazy-boy chair, stroked a match and inhaled deeply. After a brief silence and a few puffs of fragrant smoke set free once more, he looked at me and those eyes told me. He knew and he was proud that I knew. The only thing though, is that it took my stupid adolescent growing body 25 years of growth and life experiences to recover the serenity to accept it and actually start living from the same liberty and innocence of the soul. Somehow, there’s one passage of your life where your body and mind fight with the rest of its cells. This inner struggle I guess is what you would say the “I want to be me” feeling, the “I’m not some pre-programmed organism” and “I can make my own destiny” crap adolescent self improving stupidity that so many new-age books talk about.

 

Anyways, it is this realisation that gives me command over my so called strange powers. It is actually quite reassuring to suddenly accept the working mechanism of our human existence or life in general. Surrendering my body and mind to the rhythm of my ancestors gives me comfort and reassurance. It explains the reasons of my sorrow, my laughter, why I am sometimes deceived, the path of my dreams, wishes and ambitions.

 

Furthermore, I am now certain that I have reached the starting point of these million of lives. Completing the circle is not an end in itself, it just means I can now start drawing the line from it’s center and go beyond, permit me this Trekkie moment, to go where no men has ever gone before.

 

Bon voyage to all of you who share a parallel trip line to mine, this is so far one nice excursion. Sharing is caring, acceptance is deliverance.

 

Max

I'm listening to the latest U2 album tonight: How to dismantle an atomic bomb.
My best friend in Canada; Dan, introduced me to it. Like always with U2, Dan leads me by the hand to it. I remember having shivers hearing the songs for the first time. Interesting fact to people who don't know me much or Dan. We are both born on the same day, same year, in the same place. When we were teens, we used to sit around camp fires on privately owned beachs, drinking under aged, smoking, talking crap to impress the young girls and the radio on the sand would always play U2 albums back to back. All that is gone, until I meet Dan once in a while, we listen to U2 and talk crap for our own benefit.

My favourite song, track 3 - Sometimes you can't make it on your own. True.
I'm the type that thinks he can always do whatever without anybodys help. Not true.
I sometimes can't make it on my own. More then sometimes.
I get a thight throat by listening to this song. Let me Share with you the lyrics.

When do you know you have power? What is power?

 

Today I felt powerful. For a very brief moment. Very brief brief brief. I deleted, annihilated my old blog. Killed my alter ego. Yep, I'm a killer now and a destructor. Max the barbarian. Can you say such things? Of course you can when you have power. Who's to stop you ah?

 

Somehow though doesn't feel so grand, neither does it feel good an hour after. Feeling sad. Like I ripped the fabric of the universe. Something was lost and will never exist anymore. A part of me gone while I'm still here living and missing it. Soul handicap. Snuffles, snif, spurt, pouet.

 

Maybe I need to do more destruction to have more power and feel good. Hmmm... Nah! Destroying has its limits. A pool of power that doesn't regenerate is no good. What do you do when you've destroyed everything? Ultimately you’re left alone and the only thing left to destroy is yourself. Huh? Crappy...no purpose.

 

So there it is. I'm left mourning my creation. I miss you Mr Kink. You had good in you I know it. Some people didn't see it, resented you, starting with me. You were my Mr Hyde while I was the Doctor Jekyll. I got afraid and jealous of your charming powers, just wanted my old life back. Feels like it was inevitable.

 

I hope you forgive me and that you and Kinkorimo are having fun in some parallel kinky heaven somewhere shagging whatever turns its back to the sun.

 

Peace, love, shit and all.

 

Max