F.i.in.e Moods

Sorry, this is most 'a little' screwed up

A raging reality to take into account

Nothing wills it, for sure, even though a

Glaring contradiction it's turning out to be

Do you really understand the position?

Pardon me that I don't wish to continue

Is there any other path in an unseen plan?

Well, time for him to let me go to find out

Don't know.  This is most screwed up

As reality is to be decided, apparently

It's over the line, in all ways and forms

While we know who we are, don't we?

The past

The present

The future

Are all colliding

So here I am

Sorting through

It as best as I

Can around it all

The past:  a few knocks

The present:  a mixture

The future:  unknown

But I'm ready to take it on

I'll make it work

Head toward belief

Won't let my doubts prevail

As I move closer to better

Or so I feel

I'm getting to

Must admit I was taken a little aback

When you said what you said recently

I know that my surprise isn't from out

Of nowhere considering how you've been

With me in the last long while since you lied

And I found you out not for the reasons

You've been propagating among my friends

And you know it, that you crossed a line

You then turn around and say what you said

Who's the true miserable and questionable one?

You've made things unbearable for a while

But now I'm confident about who I'm dealing with

So you'll have to excuse me if I don't return the sentiment

You've caused enough damage and I won't let you anymore

I don't know how you mesmerize otherwise intelligent people

To believe all of your fabulations and defense mechanisms

That kick in for survival and saving your face when they start

To crumble and threaten to make you lose your credibility

You'll bury anyone in your path who contradicts you

Or is able to bring to light what you're actually doing... right?

So I'm not quite sure why you said what you said recently

And why you're currently seeking me out in this manner

- French ramblings...

ces pensées sont au-dessus

de mes talents à exprimer

mais voilà, j'essaye tout de même

sachant trop bien que ça ne fera pas

malgré le fait que mon essai

va être tout à fait inadéquat

je tente l'expérience, en espérant

que je vais formuler quelque chose

de présentable et même retenable

mais j'ai de grands doutes là-dessus

mes tentatives jusqu'à date sont

sans pour autant dire très médiocres

alors je crois que je suis mieux

d'abandonner cette ligne de pensée

m'en tenir aux faits et m'adapter

à ce qu'ils demandent de la situation

cette situation sans issue, sans réparation

elle est ce qu'elle est, c'est la vérité de la chose

mieux vaut s'en réconcilier maintenant

une fois pour toute ou espérer l'impossible

en tout cas, ce serait comme espérer

sans réelle chance envers le changement

si cette obstination était à perdurer

ce serait mieux de savoir pourquoi

car en ce moment, rien de tout ceci

fait aucun sens, c'est la réalisation

et ce qui vient après n'est pas établi

et si je suis prête, c'est une autre question

une question qui se répond très mal

malheureusement, serait la réponse

la suite m'est autant inconnue

et nous voilà à présent

je ne sais pas

toi non plus

et personne d'autre

aussi

- maybe a bit weird, but he was a nice person to me when I needed it as a child... he made a difference that I still think back on fondly today...

Ok, well, there'll be glaring

Sad parts to what I'll be on about here

But they're only to provide context

And definitely not be the focal point

Of why I'm telling you about it

This takes place when I was a child

Around the age of 9 or so,

But it'd been happening before then

Every day after school, my brother

And I were awaited by kids for a beating

On our way home from school,

Knowing what awaited us each day,

We'd seek out the Parents-Secours signs

On the houses on the way to ours

Just to make it home safe

The neighborhood kids acted hostile against us

I didn't understand it at the time, but as an adult,

Recalling the words of some adults at the time

Telling me:  "I know why you can't go to Marie's house anymore."

And when I asked why, they said to me that they can't tell me

Thinking back on that, why would any adult say that to a child?

Maybe their children heard their parents' bitching and griping

About my parents?  If so, obviously their gripes were violent

For their kids to think it ok to treat us this way, or so I think now

But I really don't know.  Mean-spirited adults have very negative

Effects on how their own children behave, I've come to believe

But anyway, that's not the story.  The story is about our neighborhood

Mailman and how he witnessed our assaults after school

Many days during the week; he was around.  So we would walk

Together back home, and I was safe ... And our conversations were great

I can't say that I remember the specifics of those conversations

But the strong happy feeling remains in my memories

I think he enjoyed my company as well

When he was assigned to a new route in his job

He gave me a big bag of pennies and let me know he was going

We said goodbye then

I still remember him today

In those years, there weren't many

Trustworthy adults, and even though

He was a total stranger, he couldn't

Have been any nicer

This is a really good memory

Thought I'd share it as best

As I can.  He was simply a really

Very good, kind-hearted man

*Parents-Secours:  a city registered community initiative to help children in the neighborhood who need help when their parents aren't around... Registrants to the program get a big card they can put in their window.  So children who need their help, see their sign and ring their doorbell, they're supposed to help.  When I was in elementary school that's what was around anyway...

-  :)

How's winter for you?

Here's a snapshot of mine

This is my street last night

It's completely snow-covered

Even the sidewalks are unusable

Not a huge fan of such accumulations

Some would say, well you're in Québec,

Surely doesn't come to you as a surprise...

No, of course not. Still, not my favorite

Curious to know what yours is like

- with rough translation...

« 

Sa mère, elle l'aimait plus, parce que son père, il l'aimait trop

Ça fait qu'elle est tombée dans la rue, une bonne poussée dans l'dos

Elle a perdu l'fil de ses idées au bout d'l'aiguille qui fait rêver

On n'a pas tous une tendre enfance, c'était plutôt d'la délinquance

Her mother, she didn't love her anymore, because her father, he loved her too much
So she ended up on the streets, a good push in the back
She lost the thread of her thoughts at the tip of the needle that makes one dream
We don't all have warm childhoods; hers was more like delinquency

Elle n'a jamais trouvé de raisons pour expliquer

Pourquoi que dans une foule, elle est toujours isolée

Elle n'a jamais trouvé de raisons pour expliquer

Pourquoi que desfois la vie est déjà toute tracée

She never found reasons to explain
As to why in a crowd, she's always isolated
She never found reasons to explain
Why sometimes, life is already all mapped out

Sans un bon encadrement, elle n’peut pas être sage comme une image

Pour elle, changer d'foyer d'accueil, c'était juste changer sa cage

Tout ce qu'elle voulait, c'était sa chance, un p'tit coup d'main pour faire sa place

Mais le p’tit coup de main, y'en a plusieurs qui voulaient juste y mettre dans la face

Without proper guidance, she couldn't be "as good as gold"
For her, to change foster home, it was just changing her cage
All she wanted was her chance, a little helping hand to find her place
But the little helping hand, there were many who only wanted to slap it across her face

Elle a grandi dans la rue, dans l'fond des ruelles sans issues

La société des allumés qui vivent de la misère qui tue

Dans la vie, tout s’vend, tout s'achète, et y'a b’en plus d'acheteurs qu'on pense

Y'en a plusieurs qui fixent ses prix, sa délinquance

She grew up in the streets, in the back alleyways without exits
A society of the illuminated who lives off misery that kills
In life, all's for sale, all can be bought, and there are more buyers than we think
There are many who set their prices, their delinquency

Elle n'a jamais trouvé de raisons pour expliquer

Pourquoi que dans une foule, elle est toujours isolée

Elle n'a jamais trouvé de raisons pour expliquer

Pourquoi que desfois la vie est déjà toute tracée

She never found reasons to explain
As to why in a crowd, she's always isolated
She never found reasons to explain
Why sometimes, life is already all mapped out

C'est l'genre d'histoire que l'monde aime b’en, avec une belle fin prévisible

Avoir que’que chose tous les matins, ça finit par être invisible

Mais j'pense que j’vais vous décevoir, c'n’est pas d’ma faute, c'est son histoire

Moi, j'fais juste la raconter, c'est elle qui décide où aller

This is the kind of story that people like a lot, with a nice predictable end
Having something to eat each morning, it ends up becoming invisible
But I think that I'll disappoint you, it's not my fault, it's her story
I'm only retelling it, she decides where she goes

Sa mère n'la connaît plus, parce que son père, il l'aimait trop

P’is c'est comme ça qu'elle a su comment qu'on sauve sa peau

Elle a repris au fil des années tout ce qu'on lui avait enlevé

Elle a compris qu'on fait sa chance, on n'attend pas qu'les autres y pensent

Her mother doesn't know her anymore, 'cause her father, he loved her too much
And that's how she found out how you save your skin
She took back over the years all that was taken away from her
She understood that we make our own fortune, we don't wait for others to think of it

Elle a trouvé toutes les façons pour se cacher

Maintenant dans une foule elle est toujours dissimulée

Mais elle n'a jamais cherché d'façons pour oublier

Elle regarde le monde autour desfois pour se rappeler 

She found every way to hide herself
Now in a crowd, she is always camouflaged
But she never searched for ways to forget
She looks at people around sometimes, to remind herself

 »

Vilain Pingouin - Roche et Roule - 06 - Délinquance

Fuck you.

That's all I can

Say right now.

If it weren't for me,

You wouldn't have

The space to let it out.

It's obvious by your snubs

What you think of me.

And that's alright.

I don't like you either.

So fuck off; I mean it

From my heart.

And yes, I sure feel

Much better for this

Little outburst of mine!

- follow-up to ''The Awakening'' ... the letter that followed...

How could she ever heal

from the violence he did

and how on earth would she

with the way he suggested

He sent her a letter a few

months after his attack

he said he'd use a knife and

slice himself each day 'til

she's healed from all the

pain he caused her that night

He said her caring love freaked

him out and he doesn't know

He called it a beast inside him

one he didn't know lurked

She didn't quite know what to

make of his words, still doesn't

Doesn't he realize that she'd

not be the same she used to be

after having gone through his

episode of whatever it may be

That the likelihood that she'll

ever get back to herself is nil

how he killed her abilities for

spontaneity and feeling secure

When a friend makes another

friend kiss the brink in this way

it breaks something in you

Makes you feel things differently

So for him to even suggest

what he's doing now, beggars belief

In the same token, his apology

ended with a new request for help

He called her his Guardian Angel

but throttled, battered, tattered

on the floor he left her to fade out

Could she realistically ever forget

- he died alone... by his own hand...

The day you slipped away,

seemed like all the flowers

wilted under a dark shadow

The sun didn't seem right

although it was shining

And the birds in the sky

only looked like sketches

a painter jotted down for

his memory to recall later.

Aside the numbness

of a deep pain inside,

it was the blandness that

coveted each moment

with such force of fury

and such persistance

that made me realize

this emptiness is from now

holding my hand until the

last breath in me is exhaled.

The day you slipped away,

more than anything, joining

you on the train you were in,

is all my heart desperately

yearned even though it knew

too well it'd be an uninvited

guest who shouldn't be there.

Missing your love is hurtful

but losing it is beyond any

coherent explanations.

The death of an angel,

my own irreplaceable one,

endures as the day a part

of my demolished self

fell further down the stairs

into the cellars where my

resolve, in the torture

chambers, was already

being punished for existing.

The day you slipped away...

Even comfort in songs disappeared.