It's raining today. Pouring, actually. This week has been a mix of sun and rain. This weather is all very cinematic.
I've been sort-of dating someone for a bit now. We agreed to get to know one another, to go slowly but communicate on what's happening along the way. That's fine, excellent even. However, today, I had a moment of clarity: it won't work out with that person. Not to say I'm repelled or lacking interest in that person, because I am completely interested.
A friend of mine (G, actually), sent me an album a couple of days ago. Télépopmusik's latest, Angel Milk. This puppy has been playing almost non-stop since I received it. It's an album that's quite peculiar, it sounds a lot like a breakup album, being shattered and picking up the pieces. It also kinda fits my mood of this week.
Something is odd in my close universe at the moment. My best friend's boyfriend vanished and has been missing for a week now; my father was admitted to the hospital for a serious respiratory problem (I heard he's back to his home now); a lot of my friends are having breakdowns. And I am not completely over my breakup.
It's not Benoit I'm missing. In fact, I don't really want to see his face at all. Later, yes, I'll want to know how he is, but not now. Also, I think it's not the relationship I'm missing. It feels like a little something broke inside of me. I feel lonely, a bit lost, a little less motivated at everything. I have retreated just a little farther into my own mind. I recognise this state, I felt pretty much the same way last autumn, when G broke-up with me.
It's funny, no? The G-and-I relationship was spread over months but we didn't see much of one another during that time. Yet, I was really shaken when it ended. I was hoping on it getting better when I would finally arrive to Montreal, I was, everyday, knowing that the time until my move was getting closer. Alas, it had to break before. I fell into the state I currently am in, retreated into my mind. I listen to music and I imagine stuff, I visualise it happening into everyday life. I guess it's just an extension of melancholy, some poetic dream-living.
I've been in that state for a moment. I recognised it's onset sometime last weekend. I was coming home from work, in the bus, and suddenly felt distantiated from myself. I was seeing people in the street and I wished I were somewhere else, a couple of months back in time. I was hoping it wouldn't be that state but now there's no denying it.
It's not that it's unabling me from working, going on with my daily life. I'm fine. I am even almost sure that people don't notice it. But I do.
And right about now I'm wondering if, finally, at one point during my life someone will fall for me and me for them. I'm wondering why it is that when I love people they end up throwing me away. I have loved G, honestly, sincerily. I have loved Benoit completely too. We all know what happened both times...
20050427
20050419
Beginnings Anew
As is almost usual now, things shift quickly. Sunday I was really down, missing B, wondering what was going to happen next...
Monday morning, as I woke up, I felt the mourning period was over. Just like that, not even a week and feeling all rinsed fresh of this past relationship's toxins. It's funny how things change quickly, isn't it. I really feel that I'm through with this. I'll rehash a crappy metaphor I used months ago, but again it's the intangible hand playing the drum machine, everything sequenced as it should be and quantized to perfection. That's precisely what's happening, I feel.
School was beginning again Monday. I went to my first class and after the whole cuisine of evaluation was done, the prof was showing videos that she was going to show again next course. I just grabbed my stuff and left. Took the metro to Jean-Talon station and went walking. I stopped by this music store I had been wanting to visit for ages now and browsed. I feel the urge to play guitar again. I left the store and just walked. Walked through the Little Italy, listening to music, with the sun shining brightly. It felt good, it felt right. I passed by the photolab and got my processed slides. It's been some time since I shot new material. Sat down at the lightbox and was so pleasantly surprised: A lot of the work was actually good! Very vivid colours, nice textures. It was infinitely pleasing to realise that I have not lost my photographic abilities.
It truly feels like a new beginning, a fresh start. The only page in my life that had not been yet turned finally ended up turning. That's excellent.
Monday morning, as I woke up, I felt the mourning period was over. Just like that, not even a week and feeling all rinsed fresh of this past relationship's toxins. It's funny how things change quickly, isn't it. I really feel that I'm through with this. I'll rehash a crappy metaphor I used months ago, but again it's the intangible hand playing the drum machine, everything sequenced as it should be and quantized to perfection. That's precisely what's happening, I feel.
School was beginning again Monday. I went to my first class and after the whole cuisine of evaluation was done, the prof was showing videos that she was going to show again next course. I just grabbed my stuff and left. Took the metro to Jean-Talon station and went walking. I stopped by this music store I had been wanting to visit for ages now and browsed. I feel the urge to play guitar again. I left the store and just walked. Walked through the Little Italy, listening to music, with the sun shining brightly. It felt good, it felt right. I passed by the photolab and got my processed slides. It's been some time since I shot new material. Sat down at the lightbox and was so pleasantly surprised: A lot of the work was actually good! Very vivid colours, nice textures. It was infinitely pleasing to realise that I have not lost my photographic abilities.
It truly feels like a new beginning, a fresh start. The only page in my life that had not been yet turned finally ended up turning. That's excellent.
20050417
The Raw
First and foremost: To all of you readers (all three of you), I'm really sorry about this thing becoming the Daily Diary Of A Dumpee. I'm using this as a vent hole, like I always have. Only now I'm updating more regularly, because I really have stuff I need to get off my chest...
I need to be hugged. To be hugged and told that everything will be okay, everything will turn out alright in the end. Part of me already knows that fact (refer to previous post), but when emotions take over the cold facts just drown. This insane thought keeps running in my head: what happens if there just isn't any more love left for me in this world? Does anybody care anyway?
I'm getting memory flashbacks from when I was living in Sherbrooke. That dreadful four months. I was constantly alone then. Between the sheer tension and passive agressiveness of my then flatmate and my alienation towards the University and the arts program I was then following, my life was really hollow. I was really wondering about my worth then. That autumn in Sherbrooke was following the summer when I met B for the first time. That summer I could barely breathe. I wasn't sleeping, I wasn't eating. In Sherbrooke I was still recovering from that. I remember in early September B had sent me an email, our first contact since the day I broke the communication. His email had troubled me so much I just grabbed my MD player and went walking. That night I walked for two hours.
I'm remembering that summer before I moved to Sherbrooke, all the time I spent visiting B, spending time with him, hoping he'd finally fall for me. It was always the same pattern, I'd be with him and all of life was shining brighter. I would later leave and cry out the whole water content of my body. Once, I just got on the bus back to Granby, started listening to Coldplay and cried all the way home. Bus was full but I didn't care. It had to get out. I remember sitting on a bench with B, in the park next to his apartment, just looking at the lake. We would sit there not saying anything and I could feel just how sad he was over his past love. I remember the first night we were sleeping together (I had missed my bus home because he was showing me a peculiar alleyway on the way to the bus station). That night we spent a countless amout of time just drawing figures on each other's backs.
I feel like I'm currently alienating all of my entourage being this way. Like I'm being a sappy, pathetic worm, wiggling my way through. But I'm not OK. I know that I'll end up being fine and that it won't always be like today, but at the moment, I'm not fine. Tonight, I really didn't know what to do. Listening to music didn't do any good, I didn't want to read, I tried watching television but nothing good was on. I didn't feel like wasting time on the internet. I ended up staring at the ceiling, twirling my hair. Finally I did my laundry and now here I am, typing all the random thoughts that came through my head while waiting for my clothes to dry.
Right now, I hope for better days. I want my life to come back to it's normal state, without me being all over the place and oscillating like a sinus curve.
I need to be hugged. To be hugged and told that everything will be okay, everything will turn out alright in the end. Part of me already knows that fact (refer to previous post), but when emotions take over the cold facts just drown. This insane thought keeps running in my head: what happens if there just isn't any more love left for me in this world? Does anybody care anyway?
I'm getting memory flashbacks from when I was living in Sherbrooke. That dreadful four months. I was constantly alone then. Between the sheer tension and passive agressiveness of my then flatmate and my alienation towards the University and the arts program I was then following, my life was really hollow. I was really wondering about my worth then. That autumn in Sherbrooke was following the summer when I met B for the first time. That summer I could barely breathe. I wasn't sleeping, I wasn't eating. In Sherbrooke I was still recovering from that. I remember in early September B had sent me an email, our first contact since the day I broke the communication. His email had troubled me so much I just grabbed my MD player and went walking. That night I walked for two hours.
I'm remembering that summer before I moved to Sherbrooke, all the time I spent visiting B, spending time with him, hoping he'd finally fall for me. It was always the same pattern, I'd be with him and all of life was shining brighter. I would later leave and cry out the whole water content of my body. Once, I just got on the bus back to Granby, started listening to Coldplay and cried all the way home. Bus was full but I didn't care. It had to get out. I remember sitting on a bench with B, in the park next to his apartment, just looking at the lake. We would sit there not saying anything and I could feel just how sad he was over his past love. I remember the first night we were sleeping together (I had missed my bus home because he was showing me a peculiar alleyway on the way to the bus station). That night we spent a countless amout of time just drawing figures on each other's backs.
I feel like I'm currently alienating all of my entourage being this way. Like I'm being a sappy, pathetic worm, wiggling my way through. But I'm not OK. I know that I'll end up being fine and that it won't always be like today, but at the moment, I'm not fine. Tonight, I really didn't know what to do. Listening to music didn't do any good, I didn't want to read, I tried watching television but nothing good was on. I didn't feel like wasting time on the internet. I ended up staring at the ceiling, twirling my hair. Finally I did my laundry and now here I am, typing all the random thoughts that came through my head while waiting for my clothes to dry.
Right now, I hope for better days. I want my life to come back to it's normal state, without me being all over the place and oscillating like a sinus curve.
20050416
Clean Slate
Yesterday I really crashed. It was no kidding when I wrote that I felt like a trainwreck: I really did.
But then, this morning I woke up feeling really light. Light and a little relieved. Had breakfast, took a shower, got dressed... Leaving my flat, something dawned on me: I know I'll be okay. It's one thing to say it, but to realise it is another altogether. But I am certain I'll be fine. Of course, I am not over this at all, but the worst, most intense part is behind me.
During my break at work I called my mother, to tell her that I was feeling much better and to assure her that I would be fine. She started crying on the phone. Not because she was sad that I'll be okay but because she had been really worried and so had been my sister. Since those dark years where I was really depressed all the time and couldn't function, my family is always worried that I'll fall back into depression or want to kill myself. But there's no danger, I'm not that fragile, gloomy puppy anymore. I just wished they'd actually believe me when I say that so then next time something happens my family will be able to sleep at night.
But then, this morning I woke up feeling really light. Light and a little relieved. Had breakfast, took a shower, got dressed... Leaving my flat, something dawned on me: I know I'll be okay. It's one thing to say it, but to realise it is another altogether. But I am certain I'll be fine. Of course, I am not over this at all, but the worst, most intense part is behind me.
During my break at work I called my mother, to tell her that I was feeling much better and to assure her that I would be fine. She started crying on the phone. Not because she was sad that I'll be okay but because she had been really worried and so had been my sister. Since those dark years where I was really depressed all the time and couldn't function, my family is always worried that I'll fall back into depression or want to kill myself. But there's no danger, I'm not that fragile, gloomy puppy anymore. I just wished they'd actually believe me when I say that so then next time something happens my family will be able to sleep at night.
The Crash Began
I guess I'm no Superman. I'm not really good at bottling things up and finally forgetting them.
I've been numb for days. Since last Sunday I've been on autopilot, going around, working, training. Business as usual, only, without feeling anything. Just feelingless. Not thinking about him, not missing him.
But today, it all began. I got out of numbness and now, it's all sinking in. I'm starting to miss him. I hear songs and they remind me of him. I know this is only the beginning though, it's only been three days...
It's so hard to admit these things, to admit that I love him, that I miss him, that I won't ever hold him tight or kiss him.
Today was such a bad day. My work plain sucked today. I was always phased out, customers were annoying me so much (and I rarely am annoyed when working, normally). Time went by so slowly. While closing we were listening to music. It so happened that one of the songs that played was a song that would play often on the mixtapes he listens to in his car. Hearing this song was like having a knife pass right through me.
Later, when I finally got back to my flat, I just called my mother and cried. For the first time in three days I'm able to cry, to finally let some of this out. I felt just so alone today, so lost. I felt like a trainwreck...
I've been numb for days. Since last Sunday I've been on autopilot, going around, working, training. Business as usual, only, without feeling anything. Just feelingless. Not thinking about him, not missing him.
But today, it all began. I got out of numbness and now, it's all sinking in. I'm starting to miss him. I hear songs and they remind me of him. I know this is only the beginning though, it's only been three days...
It's so hard to admit these things, to admit that I love him, that I miss him, that I won't ever hold him tight or kiss him.
Today was such a bad day. My work plain sucked today. I was always phased out, customers were annoying me so much (and I rarely am annoyed when working, normally). Time went by so slowly. While closing we were listening to music. It so happened that one of the songs that played was a song that would play often on the mixtapes he listens to in his car. Hearing this song was like having a knife pass right through me.
Later, when I finally got back to my flat, I just called my mother and cried. For the first time in three days I'm able to cry, to finally let some of this out. I felt just so alone today, so lost. I felt like a trainwreck...
20050413
Now That It's All Over
I will not crumble
I will not break down to pieces
I will not regret anything for I have done all that I could
I will not deny any feelings I have or have had for you
I will not believe that I have loved you too deeply, too strongly
I will not question myself as to why you lost all physical attraction to me
I will not call you, email you, send you a letter
I will not walk by your window or try to see you at all
I will finally close this chapter of almost two years
I will acknowledge and not repress how I feel
I will ride these feelings down
I will accept that it's going to hurt and take time for it to stop hurting
I will pick myself up anytime I might fall down
I will run harder, train harder, work harder and write more, just to canalise this intensity
I will have to accept still loving you
I will, in time, stop loving you
In the meantime, I just wish you'll find your way in your heart for someone to make you happy.
I will not break down to pieces
I will not regret anything for I have done all that I could
I will not deny any feelings I have or have had for you
I will not believe that I have loved you too deeply, too strongly
I will not question myself as to why you lost all physical attraction to me
I will not call you, email you, send you a letter
I will not walk by your window or try to see you at all
I will finally close this chapter of almost two years
I will acknowledge and not repress how I feel
I will ride these feelings down
I will accept that it's going to hurt and take time for it to stop hurting
I will pick myself up anytime I might fall down
I will run harder, train harder, work harder and write more, just to canalise this intensity
I will have to accept still loving you
I will, in time, stop loving you
In the meantime, I just wish you'll find your way in your heart for someone to make you happy.
20050411
I Believe I'm Angry
Yes, I am angry.
I am angry at you. At the way you act, at the way you never tell me things. I am angry because you have been pretending to love me for weeks instead of just telling me you didn't love me anymore.
I am angry because of the way you never replied when I asked you what was wrong. I am angry at the fact that you made me question myself just so much. Oh how I have wondered if maybe I was being too paranoid, if I were just trying to control things that were out of my control. I am angry because all this time I felt really bad and I knew something was wrong. You knew it too. You just never told me.
I am angry because if what you said is true, then when you asked me about us moving in together you knew you didn't love me.
I am angry because you didn't even have the balls to tell me it was over. You need time to think. Fine. But, really, who are you kidding. You're not in love with me. Sure, you love me. As a friend. As someone you enjoy having in your life but don't want to be a part of your future, to be your half, your partner, the one to pick you up and make you fly higher.
Do you know how it feels to be told that the person you are in love with was "trying to love you". Does this mean you were pretending when kissing me?
You didn't tell me sooner that you didn't love me anymore to avoid hurting me. You don't seem to realise that telling me now only makes it hitting harder. January, February, you were really into it, so you said. This makes almost a month and a half of not being in love with me.
Does that mean what you wrote in my birthday card was wishful thinking, just things you wished you felt and not actually what you mean?
I am angry because I had to comfort you while you were leaving me. I had to help you get your thoughts out in the open. "It's so hard putting this in words," you said. It's not hard, what's hard is admitting the truth, telling what's real.
I am angry because I would want to be able to cry you out of my system, out of my body, out of my mind. But I can't. I know that I'll be crashing really soon. Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week. But when I finally crash it'll hurt badly. It's not the 3 months I'll be bleeding out, it'll be the almost two years you were in my life. From the moment I was introduced to you to the moment I had to unlock the door so you would just leave instead of staring into my eyes blankly, as if you were waiting for me to say something.
So thank you. Thank you for trying to love me. Thank you for making me feel like a fool, like an idiot. Thank you for making me question myself so much. Thank you for all the nights of not sleeping, all the nightmares, all the dark thoughts. Thank you. Really.
And now I just hope you'll have the spine to break it off completely really soon. I will not do like I did that dreadful summer, when I had to call you to tell you I didn't want to see you anymore. I won't make this easy for you. It's not my duty to break it up if I AM THE ONE WHO STILL LOVES YOU.
It's over, no matter what you might decide. I believe I am angry. This time, I have the right to be.
I am angry at you. At the way you act, at the way you never tell me things. I am angry because you have been pretending to love me for weeks instead of just telling me you didn't love me anymore.
I am angry because of the way you never replied when I asked you what was wrong. I am angry at the fact that you made me question myself just so much. Oh how I have wondered if maybe I was being too paranoid, if I were just trying to control things that were out of my control. I am angry because all this time I felt really bad and I knew something was wrong. You knew it too. You just never told me.
I am angry because if what you said is true, then when you asked me about us moving in together you knew you didn't love me.
I am angry because you didn't even have the balls to tell me it was over. You need time to think. Fine. But, really, who are you kidding. You're not in love with me. Sure, you love me. As a friend. As someone you enjoy having in your life but don't want to be a part of your future, to be your half, your partner, the one to pick you up and make you fly higher.
Do you know how it feels to be told that the person you are in love with was "trying to love you". Does this mean you were pretending when kissing me?
You didn't tell me sooner that you didn't love me anymore to avoid hurting me. You don't seem to realise that telling me now only makes it hitting harder. January, February, you were really into it, so you said. This makes almost a month and a half of not being in love with me.
Does that mean what you wrote in my birthday card was wishful thinking, just things you wished you felt and not actually what you mean?
I am angry because I had to comfort you while you were leaving me. I had to help you get your thoughts out in the open. "It's so hard putting this in words," you said. It's not hard, what's hard is admitting the truth, telling what's real.
I am angry because I would want to be able to cry you out of my system, out of my body, out of my mind. But I can't. I know that I'll be crashing really soon. Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week. But when I finally crash it'll hurt badly. It's not the 3 months I'll be bleeding out, it'll be the almost two years you were in my life. From the moment I was introduced to you to the moment I had to unlock the door so you would just leave instead of staring into my eyes blankly, as if you were waiting for me to say something.
So thank you. Thank you for trying to love me. Thank you for making me feel like a fool, like an idiot. Thank you for making me question myself so much. Thank you for all the nights of not sleeping, all the nightmares, all the dark thoughts. Thank you. Really.
And now I just hope you'll have the spine to break it off completely really soon. I will not do like I did that dreadful summer, when I had to call you to tell you I didn't want to see you anymore. I won't make this easy for you. It's not my duty to break it up if I AM THE ONE WHO STILL LOVES YOU.
It's over, no matter what you might decide. I believe I am angry. This time, I have the right to be.
20050406
Analog Day
It was sunny outside today. Sunny and warm. A Beautiful Day.
My lifebook (not the fujitsu laptop, but the notebook I keep around with me at all times) has been full for a moment now. Actually, the last week of school we had before the strike (that's 5 weeks ago now), my book was almost overflowing with notes. I have been transfering the reflexive duties in a sketchbook for a while already but the need for a new notebook kept coming back. While browsing Flickr's What's In Your Bag pool, I often saw a little black thing tagged 'Moleskine'. Curious, I finally googled the expression this morning. Found a ton of information on the legendary notebook and saw it as a sign: I Had To Get One. Did some research and found a store that kept the whole line in stock.
In 2002, Emilie gave me, for my birthday, a beautiful writing book (in which I've been writing poetry for three years now) and a pen. I'm usually not a fan of pens, but that one seduced me in a flash. However, the ink tank of the pen slowly became empty and thus the pen sat there unused. It occured to me today that I could just go and buy a refill for it.
So, at about 1:30pm, I left my flat. Jazz and bossa nova music playing on my iPod. I took the bus to a photo store and bought two rolls of slide film. I had not shot a single analog frame in slightly more than a month and was aching to use film again. Took the metro and, while in transit, loaded my camera with a roll of slidefilm. Came out at Laurier station and walked down St. Denis street. I took various shots of the street kind. Stopped at L'essence du papier to check if they might, by any chance have the pen refill I was looking for. They did. I also browsed for Moleskines but only found the ruled version which is not the one I wanted. One item found, one to go.
Approximatively knowing where the store that carried the whole series was, I kept walking, in the sunshine, still listening to music. I kept finding stuff to shoot. Just embracing this topographying of found items and objects and scenes. Enjoying it, even. It felt just so good.
After a bit of walking, I was close to the target store, but couldn't find the elusive street. I asked many people and got a lof of helpful replies. I found the street, walked it up and then down, not finding the store. I went to it again and finally saw it, I had just missed it the first time. Came in and went to the Moleskine display. I was completely smitten. Having manipulated and touched the various offerings, I opted for the squared notebook. Bought it and left the store. Then I slowly made my way back to the flat, finishing my roll of film along the way.
To have a new notebook with me (I have a bit of a notebook fetish (not in the sexual sense)) and having my favourite pen working again is incentive to write more, to work harder on my writing. Embrace the analogic.
My lifebook (not the fujitsu laptop, but the notebook I keep around with me at all times) has been full for a moment now. Actually, the last week of school we had before the strike (that's 5 weeks ago now), my book was almost overflowing with notes. I have been transfering the reflexive duties in a sketchbook for a while already but the need for a new notebook kept coming back. While browsing Flickr's What's In Your Bag pool, I often saw a little black thing tagged 'Moleskine'. Curious, I finally googled the expression this morning. Found a ton of information on the legendary notebook and saw it as a sign: I Had To Get One. Did some research and found a store that kept the whole line in stock.
In 2002, Emilie gave me, for my birthday, a beautiful writing book (in which I've been writing poetry for three years now) and a pen. I'm usually not a fan of pens, but that one seduced me in a flash. However, the ink tank of the pen slowly became empty and thus the pen sat there unused. It occured to me today that I could just go and buy a refill for it.
So, at about 1:30pm, I left my flat. Jazz and bossa nova music playing on my iPod. I took the bus to a photo store and bought two rolls of slide film. I had not shot a single analog frame in slightly more than a month and was aching to use film again. Took the metro and, while in transit, loaded my camera with a roll of slidefilm. Came out at Laurier station and walked down St. Denis street. I took various shots of the street kind. Stopped at L'essence du papier to check if they might, by any chance have the pen refill I was looking for. They did. I also browsed for Moleskines but only found the ruled version which is not the one I wanted. One item found, one to go.
Approximatively knowing where the store that carried the whole series was, I kept walking, in the sunshine, still listening to music. I kept finding stuff to shoot. Just embracing this topographying of found items and objects and scenes. Enjoying it, even. It felt just so good.
After a bit of walking, I was close to the target store, but couldn't find the elusive street. I asked many people and got a lof of helpful replies. I found the street, walked it up and then down, not finding the store. I went to it again and finally saw it, I had just missed it the first time. Came in and went to the Moleskine display. I was completely smitten. Having manipulated and touched the various offerings, I opted for the squared notebook. Bought it and left the store. Then I slowly made my way back to the flat, finishing my roll of film along the way.
To have a new notebook with me (I have a bit of a notebook fetish (not in the sexual sense)) and having my favourite pen working again is incentive to write more, to work harder on my writing. Embrace the analogic.
20050403
Am I In A Rut?
I've been asking myself that question. More specifically where photography is concerned. I am not too sure where I'm going with this. I have no idea if I'll be admitted in photography or not. If not, I have decided that, as a plan B and safety net, I'd do a technical DEC in computer science. I often thought about doing that and never actually did it. Maybe this time will be the time to do it, maybe, like all the previous instances of me actually selecting computer science as a plan B, the situation will clear itself out and make way for what was the plan A all along... I just have to be patient enough to find that one out...
As for the actual thinking of me being in a photographic rut, it's because I am not shooting as much as I was in january, february and early march. I am also less inspired. I'm in street photo mode, just looking for details to capture, not planning or actually having a concept behind the shooting. Everytime I hit inspiration zero, on whatever the medium, I begin to ask myself: was I really talented after all? Was all this a fluke, just a promising streak that faded the way it was meant to?
Am I In A Rut?
As for the actual thinking of me being in a photographic rut, it's because I am not shooting as much as I was in january, february and early march. I am also less inspired. I'm in street photo mode, just looking for details to capture, not planning or actually having a concept behind the shooting. Everytime I hit inspiration zero, on whatever the medium, I begin to ask myself: was I really talented after all? Was all this a fluke, just a promising streak that faded the way it was meant to?
Am I In A Rut?
20050402
Change of Name
This morning, I did a bit of ego-googling, using 'Olivision' as a search string...
Well well, OliVision is apparently a british company, selling internet apparatus and computer peripherals.
Also, there's a blog from a guy named Oliver from the United States also called Olivision.
So, I figured, since I now have a photoblog and it's called Visuoli, I could change this blog's name to Textuoli.
So there it is. I'm changing Olivision to Textuoli.
Stay Tuned!
Well well, OliVision is apparently a british company, selling internet apparatus and computer peripherals.
Also, there's a blog from a guy named Oliver from the United States also called Olivision.
So, I figured, since I now have a photoblog and it's called Visuoli, I could change this blog's name to Textuoli.
So there it is. I'm changing Olivision to Textuoli.
Stay Tuned!
20050401
Crash Course On Helping People
A couple of days ago, an acquaintance from school asked me to take ID Style pics of him for a series of job applications he has to send in. I agreed to meet him this morning at 10, in front of one of the libraries of the University.
Last night, I slept about 6 hours. I woke up a bit tired, but in a good mood nonetheless. Not as talkative as usual and a bit out-of-focus, but feeling alright. I was on time at the rendez-vous. The guy I was photographing arrived a couple of minutes later. We went for coffee (as it was imperative, I had not had coffee at all since waking up and neither had he) and kinda chatted while drinking our coffees. I was basically listening to him talk as I felt rather silent. He kept on asking me if I was alright, to which I replied affirmatively. At one point he told me I was feeling unwell. I assured him that no, I wasn't feeling unwell, I was fine.
We left the coffee shop and started walking around searching for settings for the photos. I thought of going on one of the streets next to the university's design pavillion. On the way there I took a couple of shots. I was still not really talkative. Then, arriving close to the design pavillion, I just motionned him to go in front of a specific wall. I put the camera to my face to take a picture and this is what happened (approximatively):
Him: -You are so disagreeable
Me: -What?
Him: -Yeah, you are being rude and unpleasant
Me: -Huh? How so? I haven't done or said anything
Him: -Whatever, I dunno. Since the past 10 minutes you are like this. For me it's okay, but people who know you less than I do might find it really annoying and read into this. I just want to help you, that's all.
I put the camera back to my face, took two pictures. Put the lenscap back on, went towards the entrance of the building and said: "I'll send you the pictures by email. Good day." I got in the building, he went his own way.
This seems really out of line to me. I was in no way disagreeable or unpleasant. I was trying to help the lad. His pretention to know-me-like-he-does unnerves me. He seems to believe he can read through me, notifying me of my current state of mind, telling me how I'm actually feeling as if he had a better seat than I do in my head.
I currently wonder what to do with this. I could
A. Not send anything. This is the silent treatment option
B. Send him the raw .NEF files from my camera. This would mean that I did my share of the job (i.e. the picture taking) but it also means he'll have a hard time actually processing the data to make a viewable and usable picture. Also, since the files are large, it might clog his inbox. I call this: The evil option
C. Process the files like I would normally do and send them alongside an email telling him that this is the last time I will either do anything for him or speak to him, even. This is the "i'm giving ya drama" option
D. Send him the processed files of option C alongside a really short email wishing him luck. Something very short, very concise. This is the "i'm mature" option
E. Just send him an email telling him that I'm not sending the files and that I acknowledge that people who know me less than he does might interpret this as me being vengeful. This is the "righteous bitch" option
So, which one should I choose?
Last night, I slept about 6 hours. I woke up a bit tired, but in a good mood nonetheless. Not as talkative as usual and a bit out-of-focus, but feeling alright. I was on time at the rendez-vous. The guy I was photographing arrived a couple of minutes later. We went for coffee (as it was imperative, I had not had coffee at all since waking up and neither had he) and kinda chatted while drinking our coffees. I was basically listening to him talk as I felt rather silent. He kept on asking me if I was alright, to which I replied affirmatively. At one point he told me I was feeling unwell. I assured him that no, I wasn't feeling unwell, I was fine.
We left the coffee shop and started walking around searching for settings for the photos. I thought of going on one of the streets next to the university's design pavillion. On the way there I took a couple of shots. I was still not really talkative. Then, arriving close to the design pavillion, I just motionned him to go in front of a specific wall. I put the camera to my face to take a picture and this is what happened (approximatively):
Him: -You are so disagreeable
Me: -What?
Him: -Yeah, you are being rude and unpleasant
Me: -Huh? How so? I haven't done or said anything
Him: -Whatever, I dunno. Since the past 10 minutes you are like this. For me it's okay, but people who know you less than I do might find it really annoying and read into this. I just want to help you, that's all.
I put the camera back to my face, took two pictures. Put the lenscap back on, went towards the entrance of the building and said: "I'll send you the pictures by email. Good day." I got in the building, he went his own way.
This seems really out of line to me. I was in no way disagreeable or unpleasant. I was trying to help the lad. His pretention to know-me-like-he-does unnerves me. He seems to believe he can read through me, notifying me of my current state of mind, telling me how I'm actually feeling as if he had a better seat than I do in my head.
I currently wonder what to do with this. I could
A. Not send anything. This is the silent treatment option
B. Send him the raw .NEF files from my camera. This would mean that I did my share of the job (i.e. the picture taking) but it also means he'll have a hard time actually processing the data to make a viewable and usable picture. Also, since the files are large, it might clog his inbox. I call this: The evil option
C. Process the files like I would normally do and send them alongside an email telling him that this is the last time I will either do anything for him or speak to him, even. This is the "i'm giving ya drama" option
D. Send him the processed files of option C alongside a really short email wishing him luck. Something very short, very concise. This is the "i'm mature" option
E. Just send him an email telling him that I'm not sending the files and that I acknowledge that people who know me less than he does might interpret this as me being vengeful. This is the "righteous bitch" option
So, which one should I choose?
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