Maybe sewing won’t work…/Peut-être ça ne suffirai pas de coudre…


It’s been a big theme of my childhood life.
It leaves a big hole.
In my heart? Nah, the heart doesn’t deal with that crap.

The hole is in my ‘mind (whatever that means).’

In that place where some real happy childhood memories are supposed to be kept: memories of smiles, people, laughter, food, I have other things.
In some places, it’s just a bunch of bad stuff, bad memories, bad feelings, and in other places, I have memories of indifference.

As I’m getting older, I see myself trying to stitch back that hole. It’s a lot deeper than I had thought, and I had presumed it to be quite deep. So, here I am, with my fine-tipped needle and flimsy string, trying to stitch a tear (tear is read as TARE, like when you tear your shirt by accident) in my mind.



Ceci était un gros thème dans ma vie quand j’étais petite.
Ceci laisse un gros trou.
Dans ma coeur? Non, la coeur n’a rien à faire avec ces affaires là.

Le trou se retrouve dans ‘ l’esprit (a t’on un définition claire de ce que le mot esprit veut dire?)’

En tout cas,
dans la place où on devrait retrouver des mémoires d’enfances -des mémoires de sourires, des personnes, des rires, de la nourriture- je retrouve autres choses.
Dans quelques places, il y a juste des choses mauvais, de mauvais mémoires, des émotions négatifs, et dans d’autres places, j’ai des mémoires d’indifférence.

Le plus que j’


2014-05-17 Kabisha-Photos026Vinet Park


It’s all a hazy me-mo-ry.
Playing on this massive
rotating mechanism.
Afternoons and weekends spent
goofin’ round
on what we now call,
an old-fashioned,
manic contraption.

We’re too embarassed now.
Too grown-up now.
‘Least that’s what we think.


This picture looks like something from way back in the past, which is pretty much the reality of the memory: something way back in the past.