I had to dissapear for a while.

There is this growl, this grinding noise inside of me that goes from my heart to the back of my head and I am fighting it with everything I got but it is tiring and devastating.

It started in november and we are in April and although I “understand” it now, it still finds it’s way over me every now and then.

Trying to find the right meds for it is a nightmare too. People telling just “fix your life, fix your life.” like my life has a problem. Like I “chose” for this to take over.

My life is fine on every aspect I have control over.
I got my job I got my art, my writing… vegetarian for almost 20 years, sober 20 years too. A homeowner, managed to put myself through college and a proud father of two. Up at 6h30 in the morning with the energy to conquer the world and then the noise starts.

Just the fucking noise! I can’t shake the fucking growl inside of me sometimes. It hits me with a single moment of doubt and it spins and it takes everything I got to keep it from taking over… I do the meditating, I rest, I do sports, I go for a walk…it’s just exhausting.

My dad says I can just choose to be ok. My mom is terrified ill be an addict if I take meds.

20 years sober and Id be an addict because I might (just might) need long term medication. We’re still not sure what to do with me exactly. It’s a long process for sure.

I’ve isolated myself from social media because I used to bite the hook at everything they were showing me and it was frustrating how efficient they were at getting me to click.

That came at the cost of losing contact with a handful of people I cared reading about (renee, ben, sam, john, peter, vero, steph, francis…a handful of others…)

Facebook did create a very fluid communications platform. A few weeks off of it now and I’m willing to accept how efficient it has become.

I kinda wish they fix their shit now. Why do they clickbait us, try to decide what we will see or not and that whole elections meddling fiasco too… I used to only see what my friends were up to and there was a little bit of publicity and that was ok.

Things have gone too far for me right now…Im a hypersensitive anxious guy and it was too much for me till I find my voice again. The whole big brother thing also comes into conflict with my values but losing contact with a few people I cared about is real…

I don’t expect many peole to read this but it’s my plateform for now. It will be untill the noise dissipates.

Take care.

Ian

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A Yet to be Titled Song (Poem)

A Yet to be Titled Song (Poem)

Break the truth

Into a shallow pile

Of words

Not

Even

Worth

Typing in full

A coming of age

In an atmosphere

Of shallow talk

Of shallow cuts

And shallow graves

Of the mind

Slow death of language

And love

Or passion

(chorus)

And I’m standing on a road to somewhere

I’m standing on a road to nowhere

I’m standing in a place for me.

And I’m right here fucking losing my mind

This time, It just might be the last time.

(chorus)

Cause I’m standing on a road to somewhere

I’m standing on a road to nowhere

I’m standing in a place for me.

And I’m finding what it takes to break me.

I’m finding only love can kill me

(chorus)

Cause I’m standing on a road to somewhere

I’m standing on a road to nowhere

I’m standing in a place for me.

Got lost into a wonderful breakdown

Then lost into a pitiful breakdown

Until I’m just done

With everything

I’m just done.

One Not So Solitary Writer (poem)

As spring finally comes
To save me from myself
And the dead of my first
Winter
As a broken home

I sit at the corner
Of wooden counters
Reading a book
And having coffee
Bowie’s
We can be heroes
Is playing in the back

And you can’t make this shit up
I will swear to that.

I look up accros the street
Former red light
Quartier latin
Theatre Sainte-Catherine

Twenty years of my life
Around these parts
It has to mean something
Or I would have moved away by now

So I close my book
Genevievre Lefebvre
And Samuel Archibald
People who can write
Like motherfuckers

I smile as the sun hides away and
The city lights mix with the hues of
The blue hour.

I realise I am at peace now
Here
Where young, eager students
Mix with social workers
Aging artists

And one not so solitary writer

A crowd like no one else
TSC
And Montreal Franglais

I smile
For
After the massive crash of winter
And all that was said and done

I am happy here

I am home