Wednesday, 26 September 2012

Vie manquée

There's this guy at work - 40 years old, rocker type, faded dragon tattoo around his left arm - who's always pissed.

One day during a conversation with other co-workers, his name came up. I had to ask. "What's this dude's deal?". The answer I got was: "He messed up his life. Big house, car, pool, but he lives alone in there". Simple explanation. Yet, I started to ponder...

All the dudes at work, they're all the same. They all have a house, car, pool, girl. Is it really because he doesn't have a wife and kids that he messed up? Do they understand how quickly they could lose everything?

It was the first time I heard such a thing. "Manquer sa vie", not being succesful - at life!

When I try to think of something like that, I can only picture a homeless guy, or some old CEO in a tuxedo drinking by himself somewhere. Two very different visions, but in both of them the man is alone.

But really, it's all about your dreams and goals, amirite?

When I was a wee 14 years young, I used to think that if I never have dreams and goals, I will never be disapointed in my life. Right. Live for the moment, all that punk rock stuff.

14 years later, and I find I have accomplished nothing, because I have worked for nothing. Single, broke, renting my parents' condo. Messing up my life? I was starting to feel that way.

It's realising that I was drinking alone - not because I didn't have friends, but because they were busy doing their own shit - that kick-started this whole life-changing thing.

It's never too late. That's what I told myself when I turned single yet again, at 26. I learned to ice skate, I picked up a guitar, I tried new drugs, I'm going on a months-long trip in a land far away. It's that mentality that keeps me going. Never fucking give up. Never fucking surrender.

Maybe by regular, fit-in-the-mold standards I am not very succesful at life. But when they tell my tales at my funerals, they'll have enough shit to talk about to last them all night - and that's good with me.

I may be broke, but I consider myself rich. Memories, experiences, friends... I have had a lot of fun in life so far. It was starting to diminish, and so it's time to change. And I am welcoming that change with open arms. Feed me. Nurish me. Get me out of my fucking comfort bubble... Surprise me.

You may be wondering what I'm trying to get at. Me too hehehe. I think back to 2010, the year of the break-up. I may have had 30 sober days out of 356 that year. I had all kinds of problems. But I kept smiling, and a lot of people came up to me and flat-out said they found me inspiring. My couch welcomed half a dozen broken up dudes, guys that were sad, angry, lost... They all opened up to me (after a few drinks), and it was incredibly fulfilling to hear that heartfelt thank you bro when they were walking out of my door.

The last drink n think session has long passed now, and yes, I kinda miss it. This blog might just be a natural occurence, a survival reaction... evolution. My chance to help more people through the inter-webs.

I guess all I'm trying to say is that, if you find yourself starting to depress because you find your life lacking some things, let go of these unexisting things. Focus on what you have. Picture what you want - small goals at first, then build your way up, step by step.

We might meet on that staircase.

Make sure you hi-5 me.


Live for yourself.

Introduction obligatoire

1st post... Obligatory introduction? Time to talk about my motives and visions? Let's start with my surroundings... I'm sitting on a sidewalk bench, on Avenue Mont-Royal, in beautiful Montréal, my home town. It's getting cold outside, but for the first time in 10 years, my hair is longer than my beard (which is getting pretty scruffy in itself) and offers good insulation. Drinking Arizona Iced Tea and dicking around on my iPod...

In truth, this is the perfect time to start a blog. I used to have one - about gaming and comics - that I would update during working hours. This one will be different however. It's going to help me understand my own moral compass... A sort of personal journal open for discussions. Hey, maybe it'll entertain or inspire some peeps.

The crossroads which I am standing at, there's so many ways to go... Except back.

2 years ago, I broke up with "the big ex", the one everyone thought I was gonna have kids with. Ever since, it's been an emotional rollercoster. But you get used to these sensations. And so, I find myself becoming number and number, and only the highest of frustrations or the best of laughs (or help from drugs) gets to me.

Thus, my first step in that new life that I chose for myself, was to quit the customer service job that was killing me, find a more hands-on job for a few months, and purchase a one-way plane ticket.

I've never done anything like that. Always played it safe and boring, and drink all my money away to compensate. I still drink most of it away mind you, but this feeling of adventure, excitement, curiosity... I feel like a kid again. And it's starting to feel fuckin good.

I'm looking forward to speaking with internet weirdos. After all, I'm writing these words for you a much as for me. If not, I'd be writing in a book, and stashing it in a drawer somewhere. I tried Tumblr, but you can't leave comments. So, comment away.

Until my next evening walk interrupted by free Wi-Fi, have a good one.

Make bonds not bombs.

Étienne