Archives: 2 septembre 1999

Il y a deux Esprits Révolutionnaires.

Il y a celui qui appartient à la Jeunesse, qui s'indigne de voir la Médiocrité de la Réalité Existante, et qui conçoit Mieux. Il voit tout ce qui pourrait être créé, tout ce qui n'existe pas mais qui le pourrait. Il conçoit l'Utopie.

Puis il y a celui qui appartient à la Vieillesse, qui s'indigne de voir tout ce qui – depuis sa naissance – a disparu, tout ce qui était bon et qui s'est dégradé, tout cette richesse qui disparaît au nom de l'Innovation.

L'un voit le Mieux qui pourrait être; l'autre le Mieux qui a déjà été. Les deux visions sont aussi puissantes.

Image du passé

Image tiré du module B4: The Lost City de la version "basic" de Dungeons & Dragons

Ce que ça me fait de revoir cette image, c'est indescriptible (à moins de m'étendre sur des pages et des pages). Il y a là une grande partie de ce que je suis, encore à ce jour.

"And you, young man, how are you? Isn't it hard to keep silent? I can well imagine. But it's good for you. Sociability is a burden. Not all of us can bear it."

-- Extrait de dialogue, tiré du film Offret (Le Sacrifice) d'Andrei Tarkovsky.

BC

A general shabbiness;
a hobo playing harmonica
--- badly ---
next to his overburdened
harnessed bicycle;
hippies everywhere,
of both the
has-been &
wannabe
variations.

They were "far out",
"out there",
"there for you",
"you kiddin' me?",
"me myself and I",
"I love you",
but now they're
numbing themselves
with TV
like everybody
else.

And me,
well I never
enjoy myself
stuck
in a perpetual
crisis,
and I just can't
escape into
anything
anymore...
alcohol makes me
sleepy,
weed makes me
panicky,
and my normal self
is just
not cutting it.

Not by a long shot.

What am I supposed to do,
here,
where everybody
is so
grown up,
so self-reliant,
so resourceful,
so independent &
brave?

I'm just a clueless
& weak
bookworm.

Here
--- like everywhere else ---
I feel lost,
and I don't belong,
and I'm alone,
and uneasy,
barely able to
function and
maintain
whatever's left
of my Self.

I'm sick,
sick of everything,
and I just want
to drift off
into Imagination
for the rest of my Life,
with whoever
is willing
to be by
my side.

Alone, if it comes to that.
Or not at all,
if I ever find myself
There.

Nothing but diluted
polluted
tarnished
Experiences;
poisoning my Body
with sick liquids
which make me queasy
but bring me
no Pleasure.

Aack!

The Mountain Peek
might look
like it's
deaf
but it's
keen
and
a thousand times
more responsive
than this
faraway mansion;
both Consciousnesses
blazing,
one in jagged darkness,
one in windowed light,
both complete
Universes.