A sign of genius lurking ahead…

I was not expecting both my bosses to be at work today. I would have thought, after such a fright, that it was to make sure we would work while they were not there between Christmas and the New Year. They are dedicated, I’ll give them that.

I had a miserable Christmas because of our conversation just before Christmas. When I walked out of the apartment, finally, to see if I could buy a TV and a DVD recorder on Boxing Day, I could barely breath because of the stress. I was worried because I still had not done any research by then.

I bought a TV and a DVD Recorder with a hard drive, and I felt so guilty for spending $500, I almost brought them back to Circuit City. I saved $100 altogether, that’s why I bought them. I now realize that I probably paid the normal price. Well, I bought an opened box Panasonic DVD recorder, so right there I saved $80, and so far it works fine. I don’t regret buying it now, not sure if it will work in the UK when I go back, but it is leaving with me.

Unfortunately, the damn machine, which states that it can play every sort of DVD, cannot play any of the thousand I brought with me from the UK. I’m not happy about that, I will have to buy another DVD player somehow at some point.

At the moment I can still watch them on my computers, so it is not so bad. I did not think though that I would still be watching my computer instead of the TV and DVD after spending so much money… not sure when I will get around to using them, since I have no time to myself.

So, last night at 9 pm I finally decided to get on with the research for my conference. I worked 4 hours on it. And I thought, dear me, my boss will again bite my head off. However he waited until 5 pm today, the time I was supposed to leave, to ask me what was happening with my research. Typical, so I left 30 minutes later than I was supposed to, and I certainly would have left on time, as I can’t stand the office at the moment.

When he asked me a feedback, I said quite rudely: give me a minute. I regret now, but it had the advantage to set the tone of the meeting. He was nice, I think he gathered that I was about to explode at anything he might have said. Because I sincerely think he exaggerated. And the first thing I told him was that I worked all over the Christmas period. And sure enough, in my day of work and 4 hours yesterday, I was able to bring him something quite tangible.

He is convinced I worked hard all weekend. Thank god! I have been lucky, I tell you. It is almost a miracle. The thing is, he never actually saw everything I had already done, he just assumed I had not done anything. So it looked quite impressive today, when I gave him my usual pile of sheets, 1000 at least.

And now he tells me we will not be doing this conference. Someone told him that it would be a flop. Great! I can stop doing that damn research. And get back to the previous project, or the one before, or the new one he already told me everything about today in his office.

Something about semi-conductors, and billions of dollars of investment needed from capital investors, and private equity. He still explains all that bollocks to me as if I did not understand anything. I did my research, I know a lot about it now, I understand what he is talking about. Gosh, I even know what Shale Gas is, I learned that today, so I would not look like a fool ever again before him.

So there is hope for me. With a minimum of effort, I managed to convince him that I worked hard, and he thanked me for it. So now he thinks he did not waste a thousand dollars on me last week.

But I am train wrecked now, and I feel very bad. A truck passed on the street, the whole building was shaking, and that was it, I was frozen on my seat, completely freaked out. I don’t know exactly what it is that I was expecting, something terrible I supposed. And that would have been nice at any rate.

And my valley girl, lucky her, got a temp today who was supposed to come back the next two days, but she assessed that he did not know Excel and was not very good, so she called the agency and told them to send another one tomorrow.

When she told him at the end of the day, he was so gutted, he exploded in the office, unfortunately in front of my boss’ wife. He said he knew Excel and that he was not happy. I was again frozen on my seat, panicked at any sort of crisis going on around me. God, they turned me into such a wimp.

If that had happened to me, if I had freaked out a temp like she did, tonight I would be drinking beers to forget all about it, because it would have shaken me a lot. For her, as she stated many times afterwards, it was just another day in the office.

I know tonight she will be freaking out about it, I know her, she’s like me. She just hides it very well. Something I haven’t learnt to do just yet, and not sure if I will ever learn.

Oh well, just another day in the office, I guess.

I’m very pleased with my cheap TV, a Polaroid actually. I did not even know Polaroid decided to make TVs at some point. The image is certainly terrible, TVs here have twice less pixels than in Europe. Even my portable VAIO computer has got a better definition than that. I can’t believe that Americans and Canadians have put up with such a bad standard for so long.

They have just discovered HDTV, supposed to finally correct that. The only problem is that the high definition TV must cost a fortune, and only a few channels are HDTV, which I think I don’t get here.

Whatever. Morrissey still looks good on my Polaroid bad definition TV, go figure, that DVD works on my DVD recorder. The first one in 10 that I have tried. Perhaps because originally that DVD was an import from the US, I don’t know.

I feel guilty again, I should be working on my conference. I am already too drunk, and I don’t care anymore. I feel like writing. But of course, I feel like writing something inspired, not that blog.

However I would have needed to start a new book in order to write something inspired tonight. Perhaps I should start writing a new fictional book tonight.

Oh dear, now the big questions. What book? Which style? What about? In French or in English? That is not a bad idea, perhaps I should start writing a new book tonight. You know, this is how it always starts. One night you are inspired, and that’s it, you write a few pages, and you continue day after day. I really should. What about then? What style? Which language? Can I answer these questions and start it?

It would have to be completely wild. Out of this world. Something new that has never been done before. And I am very good at doing just that, and all those books are not the ones published right now. But who cares?

I should only write for myself, especially from now on. Inspired literature cannot be ordered, it does not work like that. It comes from the heart, from deep down, on a subconscious level. And listening to The Smiths tonight certainly helps a great deal. I might just start a new book tonight.

If my life was empty, and if I was still living in Québec City, I might dream up a story about a kid moving from Québec to Los Angeles, and imagine a great destiny. However, I am already living that dream, and that dream is a nightmare.

I will have to think something much better, much higher. Esoteric then, mystic. Out of this world. Cos there’s nothing real or worth it outside of L.A. anyway. So, what can be better?

I just opened my seventh beer, I’m ready to listen to Duran Duran now, The Chauffeur. I better start writing before I lose all inspiration and fall asleep.

Not another one of those complicated books that no one understands? I hear my fans say. True, none of my fans appear to have appreciated my most obscure books. I guess I never met the right fans. The right ones would probably never contact me in the first place, I guess. They just get inspired and create on their own, in their corner.

And I know I have inspired great people, the greatest in the French world, both in literature and films. I have all the proof I need and I can prove it. They don’t hide their inspiration very well. Perhaps they never intended to. They ignore my messages all the same, probably from fears of being sued, stupid of them… I feel so honored, I would never sue in a million years.

It’s not that I feel like being pretentious tonight, not here, not now. Here I am honest with myself. I did inspire great people, and it makes me feel good inside, you know. That I could have reached out so much, even underground, on an individual basis.

It is one good thing, for having sacrificed everything for my literature, that everyone around me thought was the biggest waste of time ever. I even agree with them, I just could not help it. I have to write, not for a living, but to survive. To also understand myself, but mostly to survive.

It is my most basic need, to write. I can go without eating or drinking for days, as long as I can write. I can be in prison and suffer the worst fate, as long as I can write, I will be all right.

And this statement alone, does not make any sense, I know. And perhaps alcohol and cigarettes would be a plus, and music, in my venture. But I can do without.

If I was given carte blanche to do my own indie films, my god, it would be weird. It would be incomprehensible. But I think it would be art. And we all know that art can only exist as long as it is independent. And that’s ok, I’ll be independent soon enough, as soon as I succeed in the mainstream. If ever I succeed in the mainstream, that’s the problem.

I am already very much underground, I’m afraid to say, to admit. I’m like The Smiths and Depeche Mode, and yet, they do reach out and have the most loyal fans ever, who makes it all worthwhile. I may have reached that point myself, with my pseudo-fans. I’m just not sure. And I just don’t care to be honest.

Fans are not on my mind when I write. How quickly we forget that they do exist and have needs and demands. I’m ignoring them completely. Otherwise, I could not do anything, or I would write something completely against my nature.

You are supposed to write what you can, what you are supposed to write. You cannot let yourself being dictated by a fan, a publisher or a producer. You do what you feel is right, and that’s it. Never mind if it means the end of your career or those relationships.

That is how I can only see my art. And I tell you, I never referred to it as art until tonight. I see it more as my own existential crisis, my answer to life and this universe we cannot understand. Philosophy perhaps, something beyond all that crap, anyway.

I don’t mind sacrificing everything, even my existence. That is what I have been good at, all my life. Sacrificing everything for a land which appeared greener. And never mind that no land has ever been greener, I still got all my inspiration from it.

I am still writing, I am still producing something, creating. That is a result. I cannot deny it, hell brings inspiration. Happiness might just shut me up. Though I’m not sure, I never found happiness. Not sure if it is possible to find happiness.

The pursuit of happiness, good title… maybe I’m ready to write that new book after all. Other nice title: Something impossible, like finding happiness. But what if I were to say instead: I have finally found happiness? And write accordingly? I would lie, but maybe it would be a good start. God knows.

I’m brain dead, that’s what I have been, since I have arrived in Los Angeles. I cannot write anything, I could not even think of starting a new book. Let alone a film script which probably would not go anywhere and would be a waste of time. You don’t get inspired here, you get depressed.

Maybe if I were to find a rich and old boyfriend, ready to accept me in his home with one command only: write all day long! Then maybe I would get somewhere. At the moment I am just completely out of it.

It is not in Los Angeles that I will write my best work, I’m afraid. I can only wait and hope to be shipped somewhere else, with nothing else to do but write all day long. I cannot see how it could happen.

Maybe writing is not that important. Living is. How I wish I could at least live in Los Angeles. It could inspire me later on, once I’m gone. I’ve seen it now, I lived it now. There’s nothing more to say.

God, am I already ready to move on? Have I learned everything I was supposed to learn here? I don’t feel like I have lived or learned anything. Then again, it is maybe afterwards, in my literature, that it will all come out. And yes, you don’t know everything that has happened to me since I am in Los Angeles. I have a separate blog, and it is not here for you to read. That’s all I will say for now.

Apparently this year the time worldwide will change by one second. We will gain one second. A woman newsreader in Los Angeles suggested we use that second to drink some more alcohol. I was astonished.

I thought I was the only one drinking in L.A., since everybody else seems to be so perfect, that drinking does not appear in their vocabulary. I guess I lived in England for too long, as drinking myself to death on a regular basis is quite normal to me.

So, your woman newsreader invited us all to do so. So I guess, this is exactly what I will do next weekend. On that extra second we will gain, I’ll be drinking myself to death. And maybe write one more word to this blog. Which word should it be? Sex? Good idea. Perfect word. Maybe I’ll have sex then on that extra second we will gain on the New Year. I doubt it, but it would be nice.

And now you know, by how down the drain this blog has gone, that I have drank ten beers tonight. Sorry, I’ve been in London 10 years, what do you expect? At least I‘ll be going to bed early, and I would not have eaten anything, so I will still lose weight tonight.

I have lost weight since I am here. I did not want to, it just happened. Stress, hell, feeling of being lost, whatever. Eating is the last thing on mind at the moment. And I look much better for it, so I can’t complain.

It seems that I am determined to meet another mister right, here in Los Angeles, despite my lover being in London and being very depressed about it. I might as well try harder, and meet that mister right for real. Maybe it is just a fantasy of mine, but it is a nice one, one I can live with.

Especially at the turning of my 33rd year. I am getting old… one step closer to death. Realizing that we are mortal, is, I think, a wonderful thing. Unfortunately, I don’t have any disease that will speed up the process, and I am not willing to get one either. So again, death will have to fall from the sky. Cheer up, I might get run over by a car tomorrow morning on my way to work.

Merde, I should have worked on my conference tonight. Tomorrow I will pay the price. I am a prisoner of that job. I should try to find a way out, and still remain in L.A. somehow.

That would be the first step to my freedom. And it is ultimately what I am looking for. The freedom to write all day, whatever I want and feel like writing. That day will never come. Being in Hollywood does not change that fact.

There is no solution to my problem. Maybe if I stop eating all together for another few weeks, I will be good looking enough to attract a sugar daddy. I had many of them turning around me when I was younger, and I was too stupid then to accept their offers. I know better now… where is my sugar daddy? I’m ready!!! And beware, I’ll be wild in bed, because I’m so desperate anyway, that I could sleep with a dog.

I am listening right now to the song How soon is now, by The Smiths. And the video. There was never a better song written on this planet, and a better video to go with it. It is killing me that someone was able to reach what I consider to be perfection.

And what I still don’t understand is that none of the songs or the videos from that particular album where the song came from, sound or look like that song and video.

It is a fluke. Out of working hard, out of genius, suddenly something divine came out, something that no one ever will be able to top. Not even Depeche Mode was able to reach that point, I guess they were just not depressed enough.

I wish I had lived such a moment of genius in my life, that in three minutes I could make you listen and see something so perfect, that it would live and survive forever as perfection. God I wish I was capable of doing just that. I could die happily after that, all would be accomplished.

When I listen to How soon is now, I forget everything. I live somewhere, beyond my daily job, and my miserable existence. I reach some sort of new world where I am beyond all that.

It is the ultimate song and the ultimate video. Now, how could I ever write the ultimate book? Tell me? Or the ultimate short story, lasting three minutes, where I could have the same impact worldwide on everyone? It is just not possible.

I am wasting my time in the wrong medium. I don’t need to write books, I need to write songs! I need to learn music, I need time, I need to achieve that perfection! I am wasting my time. It is frustrating, it is killing me.

Somehow, I should be able to reach the same result through my books. I have to, that is all I have to make any sort of impact. And I think I have reached that point before, in my unpublished books, but I guess it had no impact whatsoever.

So I have to do it again, and this time, revolutionize literature in the process. Which means going beyond everything I have written so far, being even more extreme.

I have been so extreme, I don’t think I could go any further. I also think that I am beyond that now. So I guess I will have to live in the hope that one day some people will get back to these extreme books that I wrote, and see them for what they are.

And they are all my earlier work, my first books ever. After that I got lost, I tried to write to be published, and I was. What a mistake that was. I hope I have learned my lesson, and that from now on I will write what my heart tells me to write.

My best work must be ahead of me, I’m sure of it. Just give me the chance, and I will lay that perfect egg, the one which has been dying to get out for years, but never had the chance.

And it better come soon, before I shoot myself, because life is pretty depressing at the moment, and I just don’t know what to do to cling to it. I need another salvation, another savior, or anything, to save me from this hell… that conference job, those people.

Oh dear… is there a way out? I sincerely hope so.