Archive for the 'The Writtings of a Drunk Boy' Category

02.19.07 combination *82138* tokyo february 9th 2007 >initial thought draft for article< posted in The Writtings of a Drunk Boy

1215 GMT+9 February 9th 2007

A Man escorts me past the crowds of travelers beyond the standard scenery associated with airports and the initial layer of security. It is a cliche, but the first thing you notice is an absence of signs and markings, there are no other people, more specifically you have been singled out. We stand next to a grey wall and my escort enters a security code into a keypad on the wall. An electronic beep of confirmation is followed by a rush of stale air, low ceilings lined with humming florescent lights protected by a metal grid fence. We walk down a dark dirty hallway lined with what i can only assume are holding cells, past a door labeled “Interrogation room A”. In broken “Engrish” I am told to wait in an adjacent smaller room. Blue vinyl covered Benches bolted to the floor, a water dispenser and an old sink make up this room. There is a Filipino family in the far corner I think i can hear them faintly crying. The father clutches a small bible with gold gilded paper, with red tear stained eyes he inaudibly mouths the words. I hope he finds the strength in his faith to comfort his traumatized wife and child. Cold sweet starts to bead on my forehead. My throat is dry and my hands are shaking, I take a seat looking around myself ….

It has been three years

Welcome back to Tokyo Mr.Denichaud we’ve missed you

Fade Together from the album “You Could Have It So Much Better With Franz Ferdinand”
09.16.06 the_plan posted in Blog, The Writtings of a Drunk Boy, gentle nudges off a shallow cliff

the_plan

Originally uploaded by [SmarcH].

Written while sitting in the SBahn on my way to conrad to purchase a very large step down transformer. . .even though i usually take this opportunity to enjoy a nice bike ride, i thought in this case some “office hours” would be more beneficial.

I know it is really in it’s infancy but i am sure that it will evolve, well i am not “sure” i will just have to be more focussed, at least i have signed up for language school for next week. Remembering how much the daily routine of morning classes helped my productivity during last febuary is reasurring. specifically requested by ms.yoshida
08.29.06 +81,+44,+1-212 <:expanding the empire posted in Blog, The Writtings of a Drunk Boy
Once again amid the throws of yet another caraf of red wine {according to the menu it is ranked *decent*}

chad puts the intel book through it’s paces in addition to giving me quite a good html/css primer + showing me some applications that are deemed “worthy” accumulated through many years of apple exp.

i am not prolific nor can i think of anything to write so just look at the picture and think to your self

” OH MY!!! WHO ARE THOSE HOTTIES - I must know them now”

Update: We are so geeky, this was posted with an ultra alpha version of Firefox 3.0.
07.21.06 Return of the Drunken Master. . . . a tale of continuing woe and bliss posted in Blog, The Writtings of a Drunk Boy
Beyond the Slugs of gin and swigs of tonic the drunken master returns to celebrate a small victory after a long affair with failure. New locations, new beginnings, new friends from far off lands, new visitors and new enlightened moments with siblings all contribute to my elevated mood. If time is relative and Einstein was partially correct i could make quite a convincing argument for the existence of wormholes. Since my two friends junko and yellow left after one brilliant and emotionally shining week with my sister which enjoyed a prelude by a healthy|~ Unhealthy 96 hour day of fun in enschede. It was these events around me that while i pined to relate understood my recent experiences from a new perspective. | unfortunately at this point i am realizing that i am neither drunk enough or the incessant flash photography must be to blame for my incoherent sentences| My happiness with K was a point of strength throughout feb-= april. . when the pendulum swung and i went through a traditional h”heartbreak ” simultaneously acting as a catalyst for introspective period of dynamic change and flux. My friends were there, my 1st chosen family member mr.sophisto and my beloved bisick_l really without question showed me what support is. sometimes it was silence and other times hours of discussion over conversations that would only last a few minutes. many thanks and affections. *drunks don’t make sense and can’t proofread their own work * * snake fist style is better than eagle’s claw
07.05.06 wtf!_? DonkeyKong and bottle caps posted in Blog, The Writtings of a Drunk Boy
this is a post out of frustration a post that i will probably delete and the only person that will read it is smallcaps and even he wont read it soon cause nobody has internet. My sister has been here for 3 days, italy crushed germany and i was eating excellent no cow cheese and drinking quite good wine (a nice pinot noir then a woderful syrah). I realized today that i have been in a position for quite sometime that i am no longer worthy of eye contact i am kept out, i wish i was invisible and i know that i my actions and participation that excist as memories over the last 6 months would be better erased. i want to type more, but i think that drinking is better.. . . but here comes the anger,
Fuck donkeykong fuck bottle caps, fuck you, fuck you, you’re ok, fuck you i’m out of here.
p’s
05.16.06 In place of the posts that i want to publish, another wine example of wine affected prose. posted in The Writtings of a Drunk Boy
he plays cello, very well…. we will meet again won… one day,
sparks will fly harmony will be reached, the love hate relationship that i have tried to express in previous rants will reach itS height… the two will have something a mark in the sand in which to start asking the questions that might affect their relative futures, their perseptions of each other and how they reached that point in which they enjoyed each others company soo much. What started as tension and conflict pushing and pulling the others reactions in the subtle wayâ€¦as lover or nemesis the emotional yield is the same. … . .. .
at this point the words that come to my fingers are not those that lend themselves to the narrative, or characters i am trying to paint. they are things left over from an older version. i beleive in evolutionary terms it is a vestigial trait something from the past the once had meaning to show us where we came from, but now in the modern dance of society… or even smaller relationships are almost as annoying as chemical emotions.
??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
the observed and fictional tails will continue but for now i think i should finish my drink.
05.07.06 bombay saphire?!, i just happen to be in london.. mit tonic bitte posted in The Writtings of a Drunk Boy
The purpose of the this trip was to find peace, piece?! a part of the world were the sphere of influence that my family affects can be effortlessly extented around me. A part of the globe where a good friend who once shared my experiences during our relative training at sheridan college is embarking on new adventure where his skills will finally receive the international recognition that they desirve. I sit here typing on the original 12″ powerbook, purchased during the hay days of a tokyo experience, in the company of friends. Although new allies they have given me a different perspective than that of my current providers of advice. Adding to the displacment of my east end london experience, comfortably sitting in a lovely flat watching vintage videos… coercing me to remember my first introductions to music, the rolling stones, beatles and elvis. Aaah how memphis portrayed by James Jarmusch and the classic profile of Masatoshi Nagase is really burned into my mind. Just like down by law, Jarmusch’s films are always filled with idealistic frames that are burned in my memory and will surly influence future drawings………. tomorrow morning i will be attending a breakfast at the “naked chef’s” restaurent >fifteen< maybe i will get to meet the british super star of cuisine,… *sigh* next time “bartender bring more wine”
04.28.06 drunken posts, is it a begining? or an indulgence posted in Blog, The Writtings of a Drunk Boy
From: emile@denichaud.com
Subject: thoughts that come amidts alcohol and love
Date: 2006å¹´4æœˆ28æ—¥ 1:39:41:GMT+02:00
To: emile@denichaud.com

his hand brushes against her back,, still covered bz he cotton fabic of her tshirt..
a scratch to test whether or not she is still itchy… it was once upon a time that the right spot was vocal enough for you to hear the need. for some physical attention.
but more imnport
she stands there, remembering the moments in which they first started to include the other in their plans for the future.. In hindsight the unquantifialbe moment of mutual attraction and accepted dependance was the corner stone, was the starting point, in which their world experienced genesis.
these events when viewed by the rss equiped metropolitan buguaryi.. the city elite.. a parody of a well directored and photographed wong kaw wai film. that if mentioned in the visinity of soho nzy, would surley encourage belittlment or a swift judgement of `you are not worthy?!`

could it be my male side / the emotions that are influenced by the common and unknowiced testostoroen hormon that guides my untethered thoughts towards a place of self judgement and inquisition?

i would rather use my awareness and perception / memory to build characters that reflect my view of the world. embelished with the observations that catch the attention of those who are sensative to cerain aethetic vales. principles and styles.

within patricks writting is it really good writtn of which i am jeloues or is it the environment from which he references his props? to remember w.gibson, as a writter he chose the genre of scifi because it suited his writtng style… the adjicives in which he used to describe his plot and prot devices where simply coines / borrowed form popular magazines and sports periodicals.

i hope the this random writting from a club sheds light on a more than 3 year writting block.#
emile you can write
you are good at writting
people are interested in what and HOW you view the world.
dont doubt your ability
love
e
04.28.06 love hate relationship: k and m posted in Blog, The Writtings of a Drunk Boy
in the moment that one admits to being in a love hate relationship, the individual that is expressing such a notion/ feeling is really worried about the concequences of love…. that is because in our society =hate= is a very accepted emotion , we accept and understand what kind of behaviour is comes from this emotion. Just now i was informed that as a result of the emotional pendiulum swinging the direction of love they must leave the venue. They can not maintiain their comfort level when faced with the consequences of their actions.. yes influenced and possibly encouraged by alcohol and bad music, spring emotions and past experiences, never the less these realizations are ….. real

love: hate relationships are more common than any of us would like to admit.. simply because of the fact the feelings and actions that would transpose as a consequence of love pose too much of a contrast from our regular/ lifestyle and what part of ourselves we choose to express to people.

i realitze while i am writting this prose, i am being influenced by what is commonly labeled as negaive emotions, jeliously, envy and lest we not forget the most imporant drunkeness.

but as i end this writting session that is full of technical errors, from my heart, my mind and my fingers desperatly trying to adapt to a german qwerz keboard i finally undrstand that, everything will be fine as long as i write, this is the begining ,,, hopefully of a habit.
04.28.06 Bierhimmel: e and e posted in Blog, The Writtings of a Drunk Boy
how does drinking contribute to a reflection of a moment, well, while i write this flawed post, with the knowledge that i hate public journal entries. I am also accept that anything that is written at a bar can’t be that bad. As i overlook the room, smoke filtered through cotton, red gauloises insted of feminine blonde, i can’t help but feel a reaffirmation of my desire to posses some kind of digital camera,
———————————————
in busts a new conjurer of words
———————————————
this girl i talked to her just a bit her coffee breath was so nice. i liked it close to my face, it was a gesture of intimacy, she smiled and was really listening to me. Ulli, i will remember her name, mixing up her syntax in that german way and maybe here it’s alright to stare at strange girls in a bar and feel like it’s okay to be gay. she looks like juliee andrews and when she kisses her girlfriend her lips end in a perfect petal ohh. her checkered sweater is an emblem of the girls i’ve dreamed about slouching around subway stairwells and smoking with their beautiful muscled penstrokes. yes i’m staring at her whole crowd but it’s because she unites them like a steeple. this is the kind of girl, these are her shoes, maybe i won’t remember her, i hope i don’t.
i miss a place where i wished i belonged. that’s why i come here, to arrive in the knot of sweet, strange faces. yes i can walk to the back where the tobacco machine is, but when do i know that i’ve made an impression? when i’ve sunken my fingerprints in the human german clay for a minute. i want that feeling when you can breathe with the even rhythm of a train, when you can feel like one of everybody, and when somebody reads what you feel, and reads what you feel