«Roland Michel Tremblay rm Kiddo Blog in L.A. 2 December 2005 Kiddo blog in L.A. 1 I have now an ...»
Evolution might have got us to the point where we have some sort of awareness, capable of making us wonder about what this world is all about, why we are here or just even exist, but in the end, it just happened, and we got to that point even without any reason for it, without planning from anyone, something that happened, but ultimately was not really changing anything, or was not that important anyhow. We’re only bugs after all, and we all know what that means, we walk and kill bugs everyday on our way to work, we don’t even think twice about it. It is just unfortunate for them, that they were on our path at that time.
They’re dead now, we’re dead now, and that’s the end of it. There’s no more beyond that which needs to be said or considered. Just accept it. We’re no more important than bugs in this universe, we’re insignificant, no matter how much we 97 would love to believe otherwise. This universe was not created for us, we’re a byproduct, nothing more. I will gladly die any day and end this quest once and for all.
This is the only conclusion I can achieve, I’m afraid to admit. No religion will make me think otherwise. There’s nothing that created us, we just happened. If there is something higher than us, it certainly does not, and cannot care, for us.
And I am not disturbed by this. I accept it. At the same time I accept that my life is not that important, and dying at any time makes no difference. Better be sooner, rather than later, so I can end this suffering. There’s no need for it to be eternal. Just turn the damn computer off.
I’m so desperate right now, to find any motivation to continue to live. I can’t find any reason to do so. My God, I could so easily end my life tonight, without thinking twice about it. I don’t think I have ever been so determined, I don’t think I have ever reached that point before. I’m afraid, nothing could change my mind.
There is no point to this life, no point in being alive, I just don’t care about anything. I’ve reached rock bottom again, and this time, nothing will save me, no lost hope in any different mind set. That is it, it is over. I have no longer any desire to continue this existence.
20 April 2006
That is it, I’ve finished my two other books, and here is the remaining place where I can talk. Something is going to happen any second now, my life is about to change on a massive scale. I’ll switch countries, that is the minimum. It should no happen in over a month, it should happen now, cos I won’t have anything to say for that month, whatever happens. I don’t have the mean anymore, my two books are finished, all within six months, barely believable, but it happened. I have nothing else to say now, I need to be shipped out of Los Angeles. Any remaining day is just pure waste of time. I came here to do what I did, and it’s over. There’s no reason to keep me here any longer. One more minute is just too much. I need to get back to my old life, the only one that matters.
I guess my life here could have been much more impressive, meeting people everyone on this planet knows. But then again, I don’t care that it did not happen. The books have been written now, it would make no sense to input that kind of stuff now. It would mean a new life, new books, and I am not willing to
I’m glad those books are finished. I’m worried that I may still be here for one month and ten days. That’s too much, things might happen, and I full of things happening to me. I don’t want anything else happening to me, for the rest of my life in fact. I want to go back to London and live a happy life without story with my baby. That’s what I want. If those two last books don’t get published, don’t go anywhere, then, it is useless for me to continue. Cos I’ll never beat that. Life in Los Angeles? It’s over for me if those don’t go anywhere, and I don’t care one way or another. I just want to free myself from all this crap, making sacrifices for my books, living the high life just so I can have something new to say. It’s over.
Never again. Now I’m retiring in London with my baby, and we’ll never be separated again, I can assure you of that. After 11 years, this is for life.
I may or may not have this wish to die, I will only know once I get out of here and go back to London, where I belong. Los Angeles nearly killed me, and if I wait any longer, it might still. I don’t care for losing all my money over this luxurious apartment as per my agreement, I need to get out here as quickly as possible.
There’s nothing here for me, I guess I always knew it. The real purpose was for me to write those two books, and it’s done now. I can flee, as far as I can, as quickly as I can. Fuck Los Angeles, this place is a dump, no one in their right mind would want to live here. I’m out of here, at the first opportunity. Gosh, it won’t come quick enough.
Well, it is true that I still have to go through my first conference with that company, so I know everything there is to know about how to produce a conference from beginning to end. However I feel I can take from here, I can invent a better to do all this. That bitch at work tried to convinced me that I was trying to reinvent the wheel, but I think it is them who are trying to reinvent the wheel. If I were to produce my conferences the way they do, I’ll never achieve 99 anything, I’ll be dying under a mountain of bureaucracy. So I don’t care to learn it all till the end. It is their system, it won’t be mine.
So, I’m ready to leave now. Destiny! Make it happen, invent a reason, for me to be out of here within days. I can’t stand the damn place, I can’t stand Los Angeles, I don’t want to see it ever again. So do something, get me out of here.
My mission has been accomplished, there’s nothing more I need to learn here.
Let’s see how efficient you are, let’s see how quickly you will get me out of California. You never let me down before, don’t let me down now.
Leonardo left a message tonight, I did not hear, cos I was listening to Morrissey.
Funny how he is so not important in my life anymore. I felt like he already belong to the past, that I was already moving on to better days. I don’t want to hear his winging anymore, I need to free myself from all that, from Los Angeles.
I’m already packing my bags, I’ll abandon just about everything I bought in the last few months, I don’t give a shit anymore. My two books are finished, my mission is accomplished.
I had to leave to London, for Los Angeles. It was my duty, to write something about it, anything. And I’ve done it now, and I’m proud of it. Never mind that I did not live the high life while I was here, did not meet the big veggies of this world. I did not want to anyway, they mean nothing to me, it would have been more embarrassing than anything else. And as it turned out, I did not need to meet them. I still wrote my two books, and I would not change anything to them.
They are definitive. Quite a miracle I was able to write them, considering that barely anything significant happened to me while I was in Los Angeles. But it’s over now, I survived, there’s no need for anything else. Anything else of any significance will be told here anyway, the third book, the one supposed to tell about my high life in L.A., and it never happened. So I guess it will never be a book in the end. Though I said that it could be finished later once I’m back in London, from whatever might happen film wise in my career. But somehow I feel this won’t happen and I’m not certain what I will do with this third unfinished book. Maybe it should just be integrated to the main one I wrote while here. It would be logical, and that might be just what I’ll do. It was after all incorporated in the main book, as far as my online and anonymous blog is concerned. So that solves the problem. The third book never was, it is part of the other book. And then I can be free, it is all done, my life can get back to what it was. I can hardly 100 wait. Getting back to my baby and my family, my zoo. I would not even mind to never ever write anything else again. Maybe this marks the end of it all. I would like that, suddenly living a normal life. No longer having to bring the camera wherever I go, to take some pictures, just in case in the future I might want to remember where I’ve too. I hate that. I no longer feel the need to take any photos of the places I live in. So perhaps I can reach the point of no longer need to write about it. What a liberation! What a freedom that would be. Never ever write anything again. It’s a dream. And maybe that’s what I’ll do once I return to London. Even forget about the computer, never ever open it again to check useless emails. No good news ever come from emails. Maybe I could now learn to live without it. Like I have learned to live without a TV in L.A. for the past six months. I need freedom! From everything, but mainly from you. I’ll find a way, believe me, I’m desperate now. I’m ready for my miserable life in London, for the rest of my life, my early retirement from a life as an author that never went anywhere and would never get anywhere. That’s it, I might here be writing my last words ever. I would love that. No more, there’s no need to. What a dream!
16 May 2006 It’s been a while since I wrote here, because nothing was happening on that front, and what was happening was of no interest. A few things happened lately, and to be honest, it is still of no interest.
Well I’m drunk tonight, let’s see if I can remember anything, the basics of it anyway. I discovered that Leonardo was reticent to tell me anything from fears it might all end up here in my blog. I told him the truth, that it is all here for everyone to read, but that no one would make the connection to him. He is already living in this paranoid world where he might have succeeded, and some sangsues (things that suck your blood) are out there trying to cash in on his success. I can’t think of noting more boring than trying to cash in on his eventual success, who cares. I don’t even need to say who he is to make a book memorable, stating his name might actually destroy it all. Just need to say that he is a number one worldwide, and that’s enough, it leaves everything else to imagination, much better in any case.
Well, in my paranoid state of wanting to shut the outside world completely whenever I have a minute off from work, I’ve ignored the poor bastard. The problem is that he only works on the book after we had a good three hours talk
The poor guy was so desperate to see me, he stopped by uninvited last Friday. I was not too happy about it, and yet I did not show it. Perhaps because I know too well I would have said no if he did ask if he could stop by, I was so dead from my week of hell at work. So we talked all night, deep conversations, so deep, I never thought these thoughts could actually be expressed outside of my being. We were drunk after all. I can’t exactly remember what we talked about, but it was enough to throw him into a real existential crisis the next day. I guess I’ve been too honest with him.
I apparently told him that with his Kiddo, he really handled things badly, that it was inexcusable. And I was more right than I thought initially, since he finally told me the whole truth about what really happen that last day he saw him. After making sure I would write it here. It is so boring and insignificant, that I would not even have bothered in the first place. And yet, it is killing him right now. He feels that’s he is not Jesus-Christ or Gandy after all. He has petty and selfish thoughts, the kind I would never have, and feels guilt about it. He also feels like he succeeded in destroying all his friendships, and does not understand why. He believes he has a dark side which comes up here and there, destroying everything on its path, when all he really wants is to actually help this planet get out of its misery.
He nearly destroyed our friendship with one message left on my answering machine. He was so damn rude, because I was not picking up the phone when I was drunk and writing all night long, I almost there and then told him that I did need that kind of shit in my life, and friends taking over your life, being so needy that they need to see you all the time and call you everyday. We’re not in love as far as I can tell, we could not even have sex for a start. So I should not be expected to act like a boyfriend. As with my real boyfriend, I can’t stand being disconnected for more than a week, and when we are in the same town, for more than a few hours. That’s what love is all about, and obviously if he’s in love with me, that news to me, and I don’t really care. There’s only one person I love right now, and I’ve been faithful to him for the last few months, once I understood that, while considering that perhaps I could start all over again here in Los Angeles, I know now that this was stupid.
102 My God, I think I’ve told you all already, of all that happens between us lately.
Less than two pages. This friendship is dying, that’s for sure. I wish I could speed up the process and not feel like I have to talk to him every day. Gosh, I need to find a way out somehow, it is becoming unbearable, and he just does not get the message that I wish to be left alone. There’s a lot to be said about friends who only call you out on a blue moon, who have a life of their own, who don’t give a shit about you. Because that’s what I need right now. Not a sangsue. But that’s what happens when your friends are not working all day, waiting to finally speak to you after your day of hell at work, when you only want to disconnect from the rest of this planet. Shit, he’s so smelly as well, I would think that not having full time job would give you the time to have a shower, but not him, he seems to hate doing the laundry or washing himself. That’s just not acceptable to me, not when these friends still hope that something might happen. Such a lack of respect. It tells you only one thing, go to hell where you belong. And now I understand why he might be worried about what I’m saying here, on the dawn of his undeniable global success about to come.
So annoying, so demanding, what will it be once he actually becomes a star?