social_disturbance [a matter of time].
The Lachenaie Series: Time / April 08 / Lachenaie, Qc. / Canon Eos Digital Rebel XTi
- What is it Emily?- I don’t want to study History anymore; it is boring.
- But what is history Em? It is this. What you and I are doing.- What do you mean?
- Everything. Everything we do, and every move we make is history. It is social disturbance. Our behaviors determine a situation, which with scale, magnifies to a social perturbation, and defines a society that makes History.
- So it is us? We are History?- Hehe, yes in a way we are. Picture us years and years away, being scrutinized by others like us but far, far away from us. A trip in time. I know I’ve previously said, that everything is a matter of scale, but with history, it is a mater of time.
Do you understand?
- What?
- No, nevermind. I was just… pfffft.
- Hihihi,,,- Get back to your books.
- I am on the Internet dude... Much faster.- Oh yeah how could I forget… the Internet…
A matter of time I tell you.
- Shhhhhht.
Labels: a matter of scale, a trip with Emily, delirium
A Window to the Past.
Unvisited Leftovers / June 06 / Montréal, Qc / Canon Eos Digital Rebel XTi
Are you able to, like me, dig through your past anytime you like to?
Anytime you have a moment, you go looking for a past moment from your lifeline, and project it into your present; into that moment you were having.
Or had actually, since you are constantly living in your past.
It’s a bitch isn’t it?
I always thought that it was a blessing… no it isn’t.
Believe me, looks are deceiving.
I was deceived. I deceived myself. Don’t worry, I am so good with that. I am used to lie to myself. I am used to trick myself into believing, that everything I do, is what is supposed to happen.
No… no. Believe me it is tiring. Living the past over and over and over. You tell yourself, that the past isn’t so bad, since you’re still enjoying it in the present. But that’s part of your delusion... part of the hypnosis. The cycle is viscous, and memories can sting.
Without prior notice, and just when you thought that the image memory summoned is pleasant, safe, and smile-drawing, a virus parasite thought interrupts your process recollection, and your lovely window to the past turns into a film noir.
Thrilling and interesting to go through for sure, but that wasn’t the ride you paid for.
You got fooled again. You got fooled by your own creation, and by your own being.
Here’s to memories… We live for them, from them, and through them.
Here’s to two years of urban_memories [the unfinished polaroids].
It’s been a thrill.
Labels: delirium, memories, ramblings
Addictions.
note to self:
If you really want to stop smoking you have to first, remove the pleasure.asshole!
Labels: delirium, everyday life, ramblings
Hibernating.
Dec. 07 / Mtl, Qc / Canon Eos Digital Rebel XTi
[before] pictures of the same view.
----
Think of how we studied past civilizations. We dug through their ruins.
We dug through their ruins, and we figured them out. From their traces, and from their marks, we were able to reconstruct and then deconstruct their cities, their architecture, their philosophies, and infiltrated into the deepest secrets of their societies.
We studied their complexities.
Their memory is our history.
Think of the traces we are leaving.
What will be our imprints? How will our traces be read? Every detail and all important manifestations of our society, and the phenomenon of modern Homo Urbanis, are digitally archived; and online.
Our memory was commodified, and invested in a dot.com long time ago.
The memory we will be leaving will be a digital memory card.
These will be our digital ruins.
Our being is metamorphosing into Digital Ruins!
We're coded, saved and archived on some sort of an advanced hard drive, for the scrutiny of higher beings of the future.
In the scheme of life, all in all we're just another USB stick in the wall.
----
A snowstorm has been hitting Montréal for the past three days. It just started to clear.
Hibernation is a state of inactivity and metabolic depression in animals, characterized by lower body temperature, slower breathing, and lower metabolic rate. Hibernation conserves energy, especially during winter. Hibernation may last several days or weeks depending on species, ambient temperature, and time of year. The typical winter season for a hibernator is characterized by periods of hibernation interrupted by sporadic euthermic arousals wherein body temperature is restored to typical values. Hibernation allows animals to conserve energy during the winter when food is short. During hibernation, animals drastically lower their metabolism so as to tap energy reserves stored as body fat at a slower rate. [wiki]
Labels: architecture, delirium, digital technology, ramblings, urban design
It's my party and I'll cry if I want to. [Moon Over Scorpio]
Confused / Nov.4.2007 / Montréal, Qc / Canon Eos Digital Rebel XTiWhy do we, Scorpios, always get depressed on our birthdays?
I am 30 years old today.
I had a bad dream last night. I rarely have nightmares, because I usually control my dreams. I have been told many times by my friends, that this was almost impossible to do, and that it is freaky that I can do so. But I promise you I can.
I can just imagine a scene, sleep, dream about it, and wake up the next day in full content mode. I remember every detail of the scene, and I remember that I dreamed it. I dream in color and sound also.
Last night I had a bad dream. I was running and I was hiding. I woke up, looked at wife's angelic face seeking help... she was sleeping. I closed my eyes again, and I continued running. I was all alone.
After hours of running and ducking all around the city, I ended up hiding in the attic, in my old parents' house in Beirut. My aggressors were looking for me in the house. Thank God the house was empty, and they were not able to harm my parents. I was defending the fort on my own.
I waited until my attackers went into my old room, and from the attic, I closed my eyes and threw in a grenade. Right into my old room. Right into my memories. It fucking tore me apart, but I had to do it. I had to do it you see, they were talking and threatening that they were going to kill everySOUL I loved. So instead, I preferred to destroy them along with everyTHING I loved, and I had once owned. Every memory, and everything that has ever made me smile.
The fatality of the story is that it was all for nothing. In my dream, I was being accused of something I had not done. I was innocent. The system was so corrupt and absurd, that there was no use explaining to them that I had nothing to do with what they were accusing me of. There was nowhere for me to plead my case. I was a criminal by designation, and I had to run. I was forced to fight for my life.
To save my life, I had to destroy my past. I blew it all up with a fucking grenade.
I miss my parents. I miss my old house. I miss my Beirut.
I decided that I should go back home for Christmas. Back to the old memories I blew up when I left.
I am 30 years old today.
Labels: birthday, delirium, khawater, memories_ nostalgia, ramblings
Architecture of Dreams.
Museum of Modern Art / Feb.05 / New York City, NY / Nikon Coolpix 5700
Architects can be so arrogant. Including my so-called self. I mean you can say all you want about Disney and its Architecture. - Oh this is so Disney Land you say whenever you want to critique, and reference to an eclectic object of Design bordering the cliché – or beyond. Who are you?Give the guy a break; you practically grew up watching what he did and created for you. All he cared about was to build an empire for you; a palette of dreams and hopes for you to dip your brush of being in. I am not asking you to accept his architectural taste, and to promote it; far from that. All I’m saying is that you could shut up about it already. Come your children, what do you think they are going to watch? You didn’t even bring yourself to go see “my architect”. And this is a movie about Louis Kahn, one the Great Ones you highly respect. What do you think they are going to like? Do you think they’re going to ask you to take them to the MoMA, or to Disneyland?Shut up already!Get your ass off the couch and do something useful for humanity. Let your work be criticized.Labels: architecture, delirium, disney, ramblings
Building Memories.
If you were convinced, and surely you were going to go... to depart, what would be your last words to your love?Would they be “I love you” or “don’t forget me’?Selfishly I think, I would choose the later.She knows that I love her, she can read it in my eyes, but I want to make sure that she will never forget us.All we have left are memories.
Labels: about her, delirium, ramblings
Justified Paranoia?
I live in one of the many colorful neighborhoods of Montreal. From on my tiny balcony overlooking the street, I can witness a whole palette of ethnicities meander by the lenses of my camera.Despite the fact that every Sunday the neighborhood transforms into little Manila, I think that the Jewish community is still predominant in the area.Every year the JCC (Jewish Community Center) undergoes some sort of renovation or innovation even; and this year is no different; they will be working on adding an extra building to their school. They will remove parking space and relocate kid’s playground, to make way for new architecture.It just so happens that the firm I work for, got the commission to work on this ambitious project. Out of convenience (since I live close to the site), my boss approached me and asked if I could pass by the JCC and take photos of the existing condition; a normal and habitual procedure before embarking on the design, so we know our way around the site.- _z, would you be able to pass by the JCC tomorrow to take some pictures?
[a moment of silence]
- I would… except you don’t want that; I am Lebanese. (I said with a smile)
- So What?
- You don’t seem to understand. The JCC is under surveillance most of the time, and there are police cars patrolling the area around the clock.
- It’s true I didn’t think that way.
- It’s just that they are going to ask so many questions, and being Lebanese will most probably complicate things.
- Give them your business card, and you’ll be fine!
- Hahahaha, you think?
- Okay! I’ll ask M-E to go.
A few minutes after this conversation was over, I felt like shit. This wasn’t like me. I never thought this way before. I have always tried to evade prejudice and classification, and more so, I never was afraid of anyone. Something stung me that day, and made me decide to see race and religion. Nothing will ever be right, as long as humanity is still plunged in this mechanism of hypnotic paranoia. I also fell in her trap. I am stupid. A day goes by, M-E comes back from photo day, her face black with anger. A. had gone with her. He is going to be working on the project also, and might as well visit the grounds; his tagging along had proven to be an excellent move. Upon arrival, the guard intercepted their work. He forbade them to take further pictures. He never addressed a single glance at M-E. She spoke; he pretended she is not in his realm. When they told the story, we all laughed, and started picturing what would have happened, if I had accepted the task. ----The first layer of the story details, how my Paranoia was justified, and how I had the right to have been skeptical and hesitant. The second layer tells a different story: Any “center” or institution, would have asked questions if approached with a camera lens. It is even imperative in times like this. So why am I telling the story to begin with. Why am I writing this?Forget about the part of the guard not looking at M-E… that’s fanaticism. I despise fanaticism in any shape and form, so that’s not the issue. Why am I telling the story this way? Why am I presenting it like that?Here’s what I think about differences: At first level, there is no fear. We have personal friendships. When it groups to a big number, it gets a bit weird. At the level of communities, the “malaise” occurs.So it’s all a matter of scale really.And maybe, just maybe… my paranoia was justified after all. Labels: a matter of scale, delirium, metropolis, Montréal, ramblings
A Day with a born-to-be Princess.
[...]
hey do you mind if I walked on this side and you on that one?
Him:
what do you mean?
Her:
Can I walk on your left side?
Him:
... sure... but why?
Her:
that way you can fight off dragons with your right arm and protect me with your left...
Him:
... okay!
[...]
Her:
You know... I am tiny inside...
Him:
(choking on his food) WHAT?
Her:
I am so tiny, but I can eat big!
.... silence
Her:
I mean when it comes to food, I can eat like a monster.Him:
oh!
yeah yeah!
Her:
What's wrong?
Him:
no no, I agree. You're small and you have a big appetite, you can eat a lot.
Her:
hihihihi... yeah!
[...]
Her:
Hey, can you come with me to check out the "Human Body and Organ exhibition"?
Him:
Yeah it should be interesting, I was planning to go too.
Her:
Oh my God! I so want to go, but I am afraid to go there on my own...
Him:
Why is that?
Her:
I would be afraid... You know, it is weird that I am afraid to see something that is already inside me.
Him:
But fear too is inside you...
... silence
Her:
Wait I know you said something very smart here, I am just trying to figure it out...
Him:
Take your time.
[...]
Labels: a trip with Emily, delirium, feminine, musing, play, shorts
My Addiction.
Fellow Bloggers, I’ve known you for over a year now. We discussed intimate and personal things; we shared moments of happiness and times of sorrow. We’ve been through a lot, you and I. For a while now, something has been weighing on my chest, and I think it is time for me to confide in you… I suppose I should be able to trust you enough by now, and be able to share with you yet another one of my issues. Here it goes:Hello everybody, my name is _z. and I am addicted to C. S. I. Fore more than two years now, I can proudly claim that I watched CSI episodes (new and reruns) regularly and constantly, 3 to 4 times a week, and I still trip on watching it. I am telling you: I am sick!You can say whatever you want, but the catch phrases (one-liners) thrown by Lieutenant Horatio Caine – a.k.a. H.– get to me. You can talk about his cheesiness, you can blabber about his overacting, but man the dude is cool. “… well I guess it is time… to educate the professor.” (Sunny sky, the slick shades go up, and yeaaaaaaaaaaa the music starts)
I was first initiated to CSI Las Vegas though. Sara is cute, Warrick is cool, Catherine is smart, Greg is meticulous, and of course Gil Grissom is all of the above.
Then came CSI Miami. Calleigh is super sexy and stunning, Ryan is the amazing apprentice, Speed was very "human", and Eric is a hunk with brains. An unbeatable team captained by Horatio Caine. (I am just starting to get to know the CSI New York people)I like CSI for many reasons: - They make science look cool. - The once nerd, can clean up good. - Smart is sexy, and in. - I think I can now proceed with the most complicated surgery, blindfolded.
- I keep learning things.
- They have hot girls and guys.
What is there not to like.
So besides all the brain stimuli, the science, the learning, there is action, suspense, drugs, sex, cinematography (direction: Jerry Bruckheimer), and most of the time excellent music sequences.
CSI really Rocks!
However, I think I mostly love CSI, because essentially and conceptually, all this show is about, is gathering the evidence, and analyzing it.
Analyze.
Well it seems to me… that the word “analyze”, turns me on! (a la Horatio)
Analyzing is what I do.
You say hello, I deconstruct the fuck out of it!
I am annoying like that.
I will analyze your words for hours.
Even weeks later, I can still recall conversations word for word… I even visualize them, just like those short dynamic flashes in CSI.
I sometimes dig far back to memories long gone and past. I can draw a clearer picture, understand my history, and modify my memories. I fill in the blanks. Everybody has blanks in their life’s memories. Blanks generated by age, traumas, instinctive selections, or lack of perception then.
The feeling is fantastic when you fill in those blanks.
You can reaffirm your memories, know better your past, rewrite it, and the perception of your current self, your current being, is also altered; and always to the best [I find].
I think that if the memories that are recalled are modified, and fixed to be a positive moment (i.e. a happy thought) you recharge with happiness, and move onto a state of subtle trance. If the memory that is being re-knitted turns out to be a negative moment (i.e. a bad thought), you could still reinterpret it and turn it into a calm/happy present. Now, you can blame your present on something now made concrete from the past. You make peace with it, and move on.
Sort of like self-hypnosis…
If I would retrace my history, the way I know it to be, and in retrospect… I can honestly and objectively say that I had a good, decent life… all through.
So why am I sad?
Do you think it is maybe because now, I actually know it?
I am filling in the blanks one after the other… Just like a fucking CSI.
I am a CSI, and I didn't know it!
And I guess it is time… to wake up, and be happy.
yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.
(CSI Miami theme plays here).
Labels: addiction, CSI, delirium, ramblings, youtube
The Lachenaie Series: Time / April 08 / Lachenaie, Qc. / Canon Eos Digital Rebel XTi
