Sunday, May 25, 2014
Tom Hanks 's lonelines
original french text online since 25-05-2014

Friday, May 23, 2014 - 10:38 p.m. - mill

End of tour at 19:45 tonight, sh... round , shitty day, shitty week , year of crap, shitty life. Storms returning, clear time between drops, light and shade in the spring, sunsets was beautiful all week. It is almost 9.00 p.m. on the highway, I have dawdled, two phone calls before hitting the road. Fluorescent ray of light on buildings, gray blue background of a deep abyss next to the highway rest area. Nobody is waiting for me. What if my tower had good light, if I found the right angle? What if I seize the light tonight, a little? Turning in the empty commercial area looking for the right distance. Three roundabouts further, here I am, it is even more beautiful meadows.
Since my repeated passages near this red communication tower in the early morning or late evenings, the promise to myself that one day I will look after it, approach it, take time to watch. If one day telecommunication towers are deserted, I'll manage to squat one. A cave up there should be an unforgettable experience.

It's raining, a particularly stubborn beam hits my tower when I find access. Some pictures from the car with my cell phone. I'm about to leave, far away the road turns, what is that light there? side aisle available, I stop the engine, it's a rainbow being born. My tower lights, twilight gives me clarity, the rainbow unfolds slowly to draw a perfect semicircle. I only saw one rainbow entire sky in Provence, a few years ago, it was doubled, that is rare, two full semicircles is exceptional, it happens. It is rare to see the feet of the rainbows that balk at show their earthly attachments and prefer the clouds. Today this is where it appears to me, down to earth. Right place, right time, the important thing is not how things begin but how they end. A miracle  late in the day, others call it ecstasy, the important thing is faith. My life is full of such miracles. Perfect semicircle, birth of a second arc, very shy but it is certainly there.
Its best to wait the conclusion before ruling. The day was not over, the last word for the rainbow, weeks, years, life is straight in front of me. For several hours a storm was brewing anyway. Internet research, discovering other blogs, interviews, quotes. It is about loneliness, it annoys me but it's nothing to say, if I could even understand why. There are good feelings to discover in solitude that is true, but to claim it, create it, to search it as a starting point, the real life, the only portion of creation. Does loneliness be a choice? Tom Hanks in Cast Away does not choose his solitude. What are we talking about ?

We may end our life without being able to make a move in the incommunicable solitude of his own brain, we can begin its existence by paralysis or to land on a deserted island by accident, which is usually unlivable. Meet the Real is rarely a collective experience, except during wars, massacres and deaths. Tom Hanks has it's Wilson, a paralyzed girl invents pretty raptures and plays with her beautiful stories. What are we talking about?
Loneliness does'nt been invent, sharing either, which is the first between the egg and the chicken? What makes me angry is to be inaccessible. Imagine other inaccessible hardly console and ends up irritate me anyway. What are we talking about?
Into my second job, nurse, meeting solitudes is daily, disease, dementia, wounds and healing, pain of all kinds, anxiety, fear of the night, fear of day, go outside or not be able to do, resist, fight or accept, falls, fractures, bruises, ulcers inside or outside, spasms, sobs, unshed tears, decency, modesty, constipation or wordy, cynicism, self-pity, mutism, unwillingness or inability, illusion mastery, letting go, incontinence, deadlines, relentlessness, suspicion, gray complexion, pale, waxy, until the end suffering is too few sharing that enjoyment, that's how. Into my second job, liberal nurse, my tours only meet patients. Solitude caregivers, mine, theirs, I manage my feelings, good or bad depending on the day, do it properly or release, if you don't want to not come, you chose, you're paid for , it's your job. What are we talking about?

My work requires repeated practice of solitude, reading, writing, drawing.
My work, the real one, the one that feeds me. My first job, before being a nurse I am an architect, I learned to build, soft ground, unstable rock, sand, immersed in sea, one can find solutions foundations in any soil. No way forward towards my goals without this infinite time filled of me. Learn how to eliminate noise on the line and annoying background noise is critical. I seek this state of well-being, ecstasy, probably permanent, no need to name it I was born into it. Daily solitude necessary as are the lines at my fingertips, the colors, it doesn't hurt. I love silence and noise, light and dark, between the contrasts arise the metamorphoses. Sometimes you just have to wait, be there at the right time, right place, available, be there as often as possible, just in case. Over time the presences are discharged, we live with the absence. Be convinced that this loneliness is a choice allows to evacuate the origine of it, arrangement with the truth, it works well, assuming it is a land full with enjoyment, ecstasies and miracles, full of existence.

The possibility of sharing born of the overflow, of flood, pain, pleasure, rapture, it is humanly impossible to keep to ourselves these moments, the Real is not spoken but is diluted. We deposited a little there, a little here, the load is too heavy, you have to share, carry to several people . I was born patient, no doubt, long denied status, immediate action, reaction is still more fun, lively, enjoyable, it's in the risk that we find most substances. Even crash, in the worst you are dead, at least we will have a good life. Impulsivity is a key, enjoy what the sun shows, find the path to the tower, rainbow unexpected ,  so much better. What is reasonable does not interest me. What drives Tom Hanks to leave his island? We might just make it. We must find a way to live away from the cast away island, find the tone of the meeting, the trace of desire is the only one to follow, the right angle, three roundabouts later, my gift, a moment, the colors of a rainbow in the dark of night that installs.

9:18 p.m., the rainbow is fading away, now he lives in me. I dreamed about a real fight all week that would'nt be  a simulacrum to invent  reconciliation, a fantasy, yell at each other without tearing. What made ​​me angry is that no one is there to support along with me this day of sh... , year of shit, shitty life. A strong desire to bicker has taken possession of me. Reason enough to land in front of my communication tower tonight. What are we talking about? Ecstasy is an encounter with the Real, chance or accident, light ray, rainbow, the promise of sharing, one day I will speak of it, I'll show it, I will approach, I'll take care.

That's the desire that I give
It would take a whisper, a carry voice, measured, almost extinct so that some words are barely audible as little phrases we say hiding in the closet for we are not located and found, something that should especially not do any echo and remain in the space where it is pronounced, intended only to fill a small air cavity, the tiniest possible. If we could scream whispering I would.

myriam eyann

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There are authors who write with light, others with blood, with lava, with fire, with soil, with mud, with diamond powder, and finally those who write with ink, the unfortunate, with ink simply.

Pierre Reverdy, Le Livre de mon bord