A little chopped or suck, monitoring ... A 31 Chaponost improvised in a young woman, jaf its state, a friend of S. who had brought me there ... What
mediocrity written all these interventions. The poor relation of irrelevant epiphenomena. I'm not just going to fade, with no relief to react with strength, create an unprecedented style, having an ounce of ambition in this new millennium. My little droppings will be lost into oblivion even before they existed.
In the introduction of the new edition of the Journal Leon Bloy, the commentator reminds critics that the subject "gender diarist," and what better evidence the sublime bloyenne exception. My case is much simpler: I am wallowing in those unable to transcend through the narrative without daily monitoring. I should show them to the pediment of copy Hash these lines against the journal (diary).
spent much of Sunday afternoon to send my best wishes for 2000 on maps that reproduce watercolors on Lyon. A first consignment of thirty envelopes will leave today. [...]
Tuesday, January 4, 0:48
The Cave of bristled Audiard rocking my night and I try again consistency here.
storms north and south were nearly 90 deaths in France, trees felled by the tens of millions, damage (buildings, roofs, electricity and Telecom) by tens of billions. A tragedy must add pollution on the French coast (the island of Ré, like 400 km of coastline was affected). One end of the year between glutinous and windy! This life
whiz and I seem to curl up on a modest scale. Celibacy does not make me beat me to overcome a condition certainly lackluster, but where the comfort of independence does not inspire change. I feel no pressure ambitious: I do not drive, my career is reduced to little things, no sentimental story building in sight ... I finally got stuck in a quarantine Panoramic? Even
Hisloc , so precious for my social status (editor!) Does not take off, even mired in an annual turnover that does not even salary of an average year. Pitiful!
Before sinking into insignificance the most ridiculous, I might be inspired to leave a testimony of everything that we should not be. "Disabled for life" said a character in a film (ref. which escapes me): Well ... I am glue A potential first impossible to grow and contentment of the poor. No doubt the explanation I will not attract quality women, and I can not imagine a life dual built. Plight of a lonely self-destructive. The Encarta CD
is a real happiness for knowledge in all directions. An internet connection can take place directly which opens even more information on every topic imaginable.
My greeting cards are party yesterday ... we'll see the reactions ... From there, I could refine my sort of true and false friends, acquaintances and relationships ... The straight cuts are likely to be substantial.
Wednesday, January 5, 0:24
Call Heim to thank me for my wishes left on the answering and to wish me hers. My card had not yet arrived.
I made a second wave (smaller) shipments yesterday. [...]
Hisloc vegetates: my last title, despite a good location booksellers, has not been spectacular for Christmas sales. One of the important causes: the lack of press. Apart city Lyon (monthly magazine of the mayor) and a brief passage on tlm, none of the newspapers leading the department, including Le Progres de Lyon Lyon Figaro and , has deigned to make a reprint of my article on an exceptional document (recommended by Louis J., former president of CRDP), which primarily concerns the region. Pathetic snobbery or I-am-regional care less?
Like the complete absence (apart from the snippet) for financial support of the Town Hall: facing Lyon wrote a book about a writer of English, reissued by a former Paris (me), the Lyon municipal n ' have not been sensitive about ...
Saturday, January 8, around 1:30 am
Wednesday, January 12 (recently!)
It becomes normal to loose the pen in the first hour of a day, just before joining the uncontrolled dreams.
Received some nice replies to my wishes: Sophie B., V. & Hermione, Flo & her sister, Francis C., TLM Nadjette via M. .. and even Madeleine C. which seems not to have retained my separation with Sander (who also wrote me). Coup de tel. Florence P. and Vania C. An early correct.
Friday, January 14, (0h and dust)
Shue, despite two e-mails and sent my greetings card. I will try tomorrow tel.
To all the newscasts, the appalling images of the French coast by the sticky oil. Achieving natural heritage should be severely punished: softness prevails. The French multinational Total is certainly a decisive responsibility, but the system of flags of convenience involves the international community as it means States improperly delivered to the trade war.
I no longer have the vengeful spite of the beginning ... This Journal sometimes feel the rancid cream ... Even on this plane ... I m'affadis Nothing, I will not let anything!
11.55: blow against my face psychological discontent. I live in a big city, mouaip!, But actually I'm quite seclusion. Lag retarded, maladjusted to this hell. As we have fun ...
Sunday, January 16, approx. 3am
The habit of a few words thrown, eye level with the page, because of myopia without lenses, takes some consistency.
About despair ... I recognize more and more in the intellectual attitude Polac. I await impatiently the Journal. His stint at Pivot confirmed my affinities: same temptation of self-criticism, of "self-hatred", even misanthropic despair, even "clumsy." My strong point is still a genuine misfires of my existence and absolute anonymity. No source of joy for me, so, while the friend can display Polac a good race. That pushes me to continue these annotations messy, even complacently blacken my portrait. It seems
than thirty years, I'm like seclusion, uncertain in all, useless to everyone. This hermitage Lyon suits me well because I shrivel at my poor value. I cut me off without difficulty.
Where relief with oneself is necessary, I can admit that the facilities relationship which would fill my taste of seduction I would reach the most poor wenches, but the funk is here guardrail.
Monday, January 17, around 1:30 am
Lunch Sunday lunch at Bruno and Christine couple Sander me know. Nolwenn their daughter (22 months) is adorable.
On the route by metro, two tasspê have indirectly tried to drag the bait me. I could hear snatches of conversation with a false content would begin my response: "It's not bad, right? " "But he had the chicken pox! "- Likely referring to some marks on my cheeks -" He looks sad, "" Maybe because he is alone. " I have found nothing, too little interest in these Pissy and appointments to meet. However, the ass is tight right now. I make up ... Straight cut in the lovers, more news to those who have not deigned to answer my wishes: it illuminates the landscape well. At the head of assholes to evacuate: the likely Jean-Philippe D. and his pathetic response.
relations with Sander are well distanced. In his delirium relational, it has much less friendly interest. It is an old filthy rich, great. Me, I sneak away to the mud repeatedly.
Tuesday, January 18, 0:13
Tonight brief passage of my charming neighbor, Alexia A., architecture student, thick brown hair and beautiful, a face full of health ... She wanted to see for my windows (which overlook the Place de l'Europe) posted a bunch of kids in the car park does not take away his car. Maybe she will end by answering my invitations last few months ... Pleasant presence in any case ... The drama
for many French people who lost everything in the storm ... A working tool and a past undone in one night. These cleaning cycles made by nature (not talking LOUD please god) have here a highly unfair. These brave people (in the primary sector so difficult in itself), desperate, not knowing how to start, all moves. I think of the castle: if the storm had done more than the touch, the drama of destruction, instead of some damage, would have imposed the sanction. Will see my formulations, because I'm hanging out with the expression incorrect.
message Angela C. Little, the former lover of the Royal Con, very touched that I sent him my wishes. I'm not hated or shunned if so: a majority of those to whom I sent my cards have responded in written or oral. Silences that saddens me though: Marie-Pierre C., Karine V., Aline L. (But hope still possible, since it resides in England, longer periods) in Lyon couples G. and Mr. and Mr. Isabelle that my proposal lover-mistress relationship was not seduced.
This morning rant telephone at the Paris headquarters of Acadomia to get the balances outstanding payment from October to January and aggravated. This seems to have been effective, but expect to receive the promised regulations. This is anyway a lot of good letting out his rage. Like a big laugh ...
Resuming my thesis tonight: conversion and cleanup of various useful files and start the distribution of citations within the plan. I must bring myself to do a little every night, and just over the weekend. The subject fascinates me, and it would be an unconscionable waste of time letting go. Just as holding this Journal , as mediocre as it is, it reflects the only thing I can continue to do so by pure inclination: writing.
Wednesday, January 19, 0:40
Wish made, but kept reserve. Last night, Alexandra (not Alex) A. responds to that old invitation to a drink with me. My neighbor is actually very charming and the conversation about drawing techniques in architecture very pleasant. I hope it will not be our only interview.
12.35. I just attended a very moving testimony of Pierre Botton, a businessman who spent more than six hundred days in jail. It recounts the appalling conditions of detention, arguing that in the denunciations made by an "exceptional woman" (his words), Surgeon in French prisons.
A manifesto signed by several personalities who have tasted the bars (including Bob Denard) due out tomorrow in a weekly. Le Nouvel Observateur , I think.
A great moment of television in the 12-13 France 3: a raw sincerity that Mr. Botton.
Saturday, January 22, 9:29
Ai started Journal (excerpts chosen by Pierre-Emmanuel Dauzat) of Polac and Supplication - Chernobyl, the world's chronic After the Apocalypse Svetlana Alexievich he considers a major work of the second half of the twentieth century. Indeed, the testimony of victims of this "accident" nuclear overwhelming, take guts and surpass in sincerity and drama to convey everything I've read so far, including the writings of survivors of the Solution final. Tech crime, nuclear in this case seems to me at least reach humanity in its very survival, and overall, without substitution of a race to another, a caste to another, as planned a few enlightened twentieth (Hitler, Stalin and Co.) that will leave a trail much more significant and sustainable in the collective memory than benefactors of mankind. A willingness to keep pinnacle of historical interest for the irrepressible penchant exemplary or all of us that destroys, kills, destroys? A morbid fascination for those able to reach the other in the flesh, sometimes with a bonus gift to deconstruct the mind of his next.
Monday, January 24, 1.05am
Serenity Night at the heart of Lyon to indulge in navel gazing decryptor. The e shifted: the title suits me well. Hosted by any ambition or financial holding power, but anxious to appear , one of many contradictions of a tormented personality, I assure the minimum for survival does not seem too miserable. The desire to build seems to be limited opportunity for me to be a witness if possible lucid missed opportunities. The time will be right for parading all my initial fantasies; no glory, no happiness dual isolation and frantic to better emphasize my limits. Slow autopsy existential, that is a very terrible reason.
fiber pamphleteer seems to transcend even against the evils of the world. Is it to avoid becoming the old obscenity rebel condemned by Bernanos? It's probably less glorious reasons. Seen
Sander Sunday it looks good, continuing its sentimental tracks, but mostly about to become the owner of an apartment in a residence luxury (with pool) in progress by the same promoter that Domaine Tassin and located in Lyon (fifth). Lunch in an excellent plug Lyon. Our friendly relations seem perfectly standardized.
She taught me that Florence P. should settle down with his friend from South Africa in England ... Another beautiful girl who will not be for me. I have nothing to enlighten my pitiful life.
Tuesday, January 25, 0:30 approx.
The meeting days are the beginnings of loyalty. It remains to determine the true value of these fillings. I was thinking of asking my pen yesterday, probably excuse to sleep more quickly, about which I could easily deal if I committed myself in writing a novel, or a species approaching this kind. Nothing clear came to me, except a penchant for butchering intimate rather than exotic fresco. No escape for me. I chose my way of confinement and I stand. The story of the torments of a quirky, plagued by her incessant contradictions, its minantes dithering, de-motivated by any idea of career abroad in the world he would win yet in the moment and mark for some time.
is a project that will help me sleep tonight.
Wednesday, January 26, 0:30 approx. In
Monique at tel. tonight. She tells me that the old Belle, adorable dog than a dozen years, died a week ago. A sweet end by extinction brain. Similarly, the mythical Gounouche Hermione's cat close to twenty years and been ill for a long time. Whole sections of my life seem to disappear with these beloved animals. I remember the dogs Ouarin (who shared some of the epic Heim), Tual so smart and involved in so many of my games in the morning dew at the Chateau d'O, fierce for visitors and low aggressive (Beauce shepherd cross doberman or beauceron ... it impresses) and such affection with me ... A tear, a thought for these companions so authentic ...