Blog'n the Cities

When Peter meets Cindy

2012-01-28T14:06:00.002+01:00

A few days ago, Ken had a very interesting conversation with Natsuki sensei about rich people around us. Those few words made Ken think a lil'more about money in Bangkok and in is own life. Nothin's sad for him, Ken isn't wealthy but he gots buck enough to have a good life here, i mean, a comfy one.
It's funny how it's very difficult to see how rich are people here. Some national feeling and way of life, they stay humble. Of course, there are some excuses, but most of those Ken know and meet are. Thai or not. But mostly Thai.

This conversation also made Ken realize how deep he hide one of his sweetest 20's years dream, find the Charming Prince. Tonite, Peter Pan meets Cinderella. Complex and complicated complexes.
Like some girls, Ken would like to live a special "Devoted Day" in which his boyf' would give him absolutly everything he wants. Seize the day with an exceptional lunch in a cosy place before a shopping day. " Do it Ken, you can choose all that you want. I heard you'd like a new laptop. I also found out that you need a new bag. Let's tale - oops wrong key - take a look at Apple or Vuitton. This is your day". Then a break, sweets and pies in a secret garden and back to shops for a shirt and pants for the dinner. The princes will be handsome and will match more than ever tonite. Dinner time, a long table full of fine and raffined dishes and exclusive white wines and Champagne, in a restaurant by the river. Dim all the lights sweet darling.
And never wake up again, never wake up again.
Of course, all this can happen. Ken is his own prince and can provide himself every little tantrum. But once in his life, he'd like to be a princess. Oh fuck !

Lost in translations... again

2012-01-22T11:59:00.002+01:00

OK, don't panic. U can deal with it. No panic. It's just another nite, only a few hours untill the break of the day. Breath from your deepest breath. I can count on you. Don't panic, only a few anxious hours left.
You got plans, you got things to do. Whatever if you don't really know about tomorrow. Actually is better to have only a pinch of plans rather than a full list made of dreams. Remember all those little girls with dreams and how hard it was when they woke up. Today again you had to deal with a place that wasn't yours, people out of your tribe. And you did it.
Tomorrow will be the same. OK, you plan to start again somewhere else, try hard to rebuild a life, a house, a tribe. You could save money to go back to France. You could think about your future in Paris. You could be happy over there. But your job and the opportunities, but the job insecurities.
OK, don't panic. You can deal with all that things in your comfy bed. The air is freshy tonite. It's not so noisy outside. You find a rhythm in your life. So why all those questions at nite ? Nice job, nice place to live, shopping and travels, restaurants, taxis, some luxuries from time to time... why should you abandon all this for start again somewhere else you'll be lost once again ?
Why this stupid desire to move and quit all these precious easy things ? Still a few hours before the break of the day, and tomorrow will be the same. It's easier than it seems.
You're clearly scared of what will happen, this fuckin' feeling is your gasoline. Look at all your friends, you already lost them since they don't even reply your messages. Look at all you've done to be here, are you really gonna sacrifice all this ?
Be a foreigner again, a stranger forever, what's the big deal ? It's easier than it seems. Just ignore what's shitting on you and carry on. The question is how long fears will take you to the break of the day.

Vir Eroticus

2012-01-14T14:35:00.002+01:00

If you know nothin'about men, u'd better skip this post or u'll be sorry. What about us guys except we're all selfish bastards ? Some of us are also more narcissist than women. Ken is, and it's normal, so fine. He is narcissist, yes, but in a different way. I mean, not in an erotic way. In this point, he's just a slut, but not narcissist. Two kinds.
The first one is the guy who always want to fuck people like him, strong like him, rich like him, fat like him, bitch like me, oops him. Why ? Simply because men are so narcissit that their best orgasm, their deepest fantasy would be to fuck themselves. Listen, we don't want to kill the father and marry the mother, this is an old fashion theory. We don't want any marriage. Boys just wanna have fuck. And when they fuck someone like them it's like they fuck themselves. Easy. But boring. Ken don't want to fuck himself. He just wants to discover many ways to reach ecstasy.
On the other side, come those guys who want to date their very opposite mostly because they refuse to accept themselves as they are. Ken used to share is life with a boy who tried hard to mold Ken to create his opposite : short and fat. Ken's partner only achieved the half and failed the other half, the character. Obviously, Ken's bf was not enough comfortable with himself despite his jealousy, lack of tolerance and his narrow mind towards strangers. The hangs-up guy is not the fatty one, but the one who wants to change the world and make love with a mirror. A guy who doesn't like himself is someone with the hugest ego on Earth just because it's ONLY all about him. Mirrors are made to watch the couple, not his own dick or flesh. Brain and heart too.

Anyway, it's boring to date someone like you. It's like a wank, hardly better. Ken loves have sex with chubbies or strong men. Those days, strong is better. Muscled arms, ass of stone... Those days Ken is a ha^_^y monogamous fella. He's filled with someone different. In many ways.

Happy New Years

2012-01-01T14:09:00.002+01:00

It's about 8pm. A fast dinner at home. Paris. 18th... Some shrimps for her and a tomato sauce rice from the chinese restaurant beneath. Both of us, all dressed in grey and black. It's not that cold outside. Paris is never cold when it's time to party. Before leavin' the room, some music. Agressive. Marilyn Manson, Nirvana. And some other softer, Garbage and we both remember the last concert on October. Shirley, Shirley, Sjirley ! Bellies are full, heads are hot and already a lil' bit drunk. Let's go. Head to the Marais... like Silom but better. Like Shinjuku but more open. Head to "Le Cactus" and the girls, Isa and Catherine. My bitch and I join the party. My bitch is Emilie. Bitch. For this special occasion, the bar organized a private party for the usual customers... Small place but friendly. We used to eat salads and cheese pies there. Everytime i go back to Paris i spend an hour or two. But it's different now. Catherine and else left already. So, we dance and drink all night long. Midnite time, some Champagne is squirting on the crowd. Some astrological conversation " I'm Aquarius... Me, i'm Whore"... I like it like that. Happy New Year. 2004 or 2005, can't remember...
It's getting late and i'm a bit tired. I walked and shopped all day. Tokyo is such a nice place to be when you have time and money. So, back home. Some groceries for the dinner. Champagne, obviously. Even small supermarkets provide Veuve Cliquot in Tokyo. So, no need to worry about the nite. Some plans after dinner, dance in Shinjuku. But the dinner is long to prepare. Everything has to be perfect for Miki, Yaku and Ken. So, we took time. Yaku will be home late tonite. We take time. Some beers during the cooking. Starters, main and desserts. It's all about French and Japanez dishes. Nice mix, French and Japanez. Ken always thaught so. The dinner is quite long too. Delicious. Last presents for Ken, some Maetel and Oscar figurines. Then it's already late. Midnite rang.Three guys in the same bedroom. Happy New Year 2011...
Ken is early tonite. Policemen stopped the cab and searched his pockets. Uniforms... hot. So Ken is early. Enough to help and set the music. The first people arrive. But the main lady is very into tantrum tonite. She'll appear a very later. After her family and the dinner starts. Brenda can be such a brat sometimes. But anyway; Ken was welcome by Raphael with delicate vodka and nice conversation about the previous days. Cosy eve around the pool. Deep conversations about tomorrows and some dance. Finish the year with standards for ones and Madonna for Ken. Say what. Short eve. Back home around 1am. A little drunk and shit, all alone this year. Sometimes it hurts.... Happy New 2012 Year. I guess.

This year was auspicious, Splendora. Ken get his Tiffany's earings and his Mont Blanc pen. Apple also was in the party. It's cold tonite. Anyway, this is not the first time. What's the plan ? Dinner with friends or with Mister Husband, Ken doesn't know yet. Perhaps with everybody. Ken is still not comfortable to speak and understand the whole conversation. Anyway. Mister Husband is handsome tonite. More than the other times. He looks taller and stronger. His jaws his more square and sexy. Thanx again for the Xmas present. Ken cooked to thank everyone. He's a good cooker, a nice partner... Oh yes, this year was the best. Ken survived to the End of the World and joy is all around on the streets, bars, restaurants and even on classes. We don't give a shit of the End of the world. World died many times, many years ago...
Yes; tonite is a peak scene. A climax. Happy New 2013 Year to all !

Enchanted interlude; a modern fairytale

2011-12-18T18:51:00.003+01:00

Since years and years Ken reads japanese novels, he noticed that almost every single one has a different chapter, totally independant, like a coffee break in the middle of the story because this also happens in the real life. Yoshimoto Banana, both Murakamis and even serious Mishima does or did it. In Kinjiki, Mishima suspends the story for a special gay-erotic stage between the hero and a young guy. Some kind of Enchanted interlude. This special chapter is some kind of magic.
Once upon a time tonite. When Ken met Charles. At first they contacted on the Internet Ken only saw 2 blurred portraits of the guy. Anyway, he accepted the date. Two moderns Charming Princes. Ken picked up Charles ( a princely name; isn't it ?) at the hotel. At first Ken saw him he did not recognize him so that he was different from the pictures. Charles smiled and both princes shook hands under the Xmas tree of the Sofitel. And the angels sang, and the bells rang.
Then they shared a drink at the pool before a cosy dinner in a tiny thai restaurant. Conversations never ran dry and words came with the flow. They had fun, a good dinner. Not the shadow of a poisonned apple. After that, back to the hotel for a last drink, some cocktail with macarons and biscuits. Serious conversations and less ones about family, friends and fuck, this the modern fairytale. After the drink, head to the room. Nice, cosy, with a comfy bed of white horse mane. Some sweet chocolate cakes, hot chocolate in cups of white and ecru for a very merry unbirthday... from a Charles to another one.
Then Ken took a bath in a tub of a Marian white and foam. Charles came and took some pictures of Ken. Sexy, naughty, bitchy. Then they both lied on the bed, on the sweet white sheets and they start to kiss. Innocent erotic at 34 and 39 yo, teen edge of pleasure. Then they had sex. Scorching heat, a breath of fire, hotter than a dragon's breath for two valiant guys. Some more sexy pictures, Ken saw his dick getting bigger and bigger with Charles psaulms and incantations. Legardum leviosa... And then they came, soiled the sheets, laid low the Queen Size. And back under the shower, the pouring rain, the divine reward.
Ken stoped the shower first, took a last chocolate cake and put on his pants. When Charles finished he ask why Ken was already dressed and Ken replied he wanted to go home.
A modern fairytale is nice. But like all the tales, there is a moral and tonite the moral is better stop the dream before you wake up. Because when you wake up from a dream, very hard and painful is the falling down.
Prince Charles is a gentleman. But he lives in Taiwan and comes only once a year in Bkk. Fairytale sucks. Fortunately, it's only a fiction.

Post sex blue

2011-11-16T16:30:00.004+01:00

Warning : during this post Ken was listening to Rachmaninov's Symphonies No 2 and 3 and he suggests you do the same during your reading. He also was eating an omelet... this is up to you.

Alright, u won't read anything new in those following lines, i mean if you have a decent sex life. It's only another brilliant thought of mine from another sexperience.

I must say Ken can count the times he dinnered out on the fingers of one hand, perhaps twice, three times maximum since he's in Bangkok. Usually, Ken plays the host. But tonite it was different. And when u know the guy who invites you, it can be very nice and exciting. Tonite P'Too (P' is a thai way to talk about and with a person older than you. Yes, Ken apreciates elders and not only the trees) welcomed him. Ken didn't expect what he saw there. Nice, comfy, dark, minimalist but not an empty room. P'Too is not very talkative and he has taste. Mere but relevant decorations, some frames from travels, high tech music console, white leather sofa and sweet muscles, oops pillows. After 5 minutes of sweet caress and a cup of water he proposed to visit the bedroom... So big, huge, comfortable and warm. Also was the room, by the way. P'Too is strong, sexy, passionnate, he only gives 100% in every single kiss. Ken just loves to have sex with him. His lips, his hands, his eyes, his whole, he's heaven on Bed. His fingers running on Ken's skin are like hundreds of wild runaway mustang horses. His tongue licking Ken's ass and dick is like an heavenly breath... The look in his eyes costs more than the blazes of Central World...
After sex, come the clumsy parade of shower, the genuine discomfort of the moment when you have to dress up wondering if you can stay a lil'more or if your partner wants you to leave asap. Of course, since Ken is a man and men are almost all the same, Ken thaught he had to leave. But some people are different and Ken easily read between the line "Do you have to work tomorrow morning" ?
Yes, he has to. So, Ken grabed a taxi back home and here started the crisis. Step one, it must be nice to sleep in this kind of strong arms, inside a smooth and mellow king-sized bed. Step two, you remember all the sweet intentions hidden under the muscles and the fierce sex and you start to regret it. Step three, you smile, but with a sad smile, and imagine what will happen in the morning. And finally you think about all those happy couples who live together and you find out it's definitely not for you. Not because you're special or better than others. Just because you like to spread yourself in your bed, because you don't like to talk in the morning, because a man is so handsome in the dark side but so disappointing when the sun wakes up - and i'm sure women are the same, because you need to be alone to paint and read, because you don't want to hear a single voice at the end of the day, because you cherish your own world more, because you just scare to do it all over again, because it's also nice to feel uncomfy after sex, because Ken cannot be hard for a guy he cleans the pants, because...
Because P'Too is a nice man, like P'Nat was, like P'Joe was, like P'Jay is... like many of these sweet and strong and sexy men Ken met. They're nice and sweet. But... in the end (Rachmaninov' symphony reaches climax now) the blue is longer than 10 minutes in the back of a taxi.

This is the conclusion ? I am afraid, yes.

Heal the World, my ass !

2011-11-03T16:30:00.003+01:00

Please, don't save my Earth.
CAUTION, this post in not a declaration of peace. I'm not a volunteer, i'm not a peace maker. I never liked John Lennon's songs and I don't believe in any Natural Mystic. I only understand cries and tears because it's what human beigns do the best. Killers or victims, cries and tears...
Imma selfsih man and i got myself a universe.

I now see very terrible things in the country i chose to stay. Of course, as an alien - as they mention my status in Thailand - I'm not concerned. I'm just here to make money and go somewhere else before the world ends. And I don't talk about a remake of Jurassic' thing or Ice Ages... but people kill people, people fuck people, people control people, this kind of shit.
Anyway, since floodings started many MONTHS ago, i'm really sceptical and, at the same time, very admiring about human behaviour. At my left, poor people already lost everything, middle class slowly loose their faith and illusions, but all still calm and quiet when water and food slowly slumping... At this rate, France would already declare the civil war like in Greece. But here; nothing happens. Thai people just wait, peacefully, quietely, almost under submission or should i talk about FATE. At my right, administration just doesn't give a fuck of the other side, struting in Burberry and Chanel boots when masses are drowning beneth their feet.
And back in the days when Red fought against Yellow. Goods that Bangkokian people are giving everyday are stored and waiting for a government stamp and a sticker to be inked in order to be display all over the disaster areas. Then, if you are in the Red camp, u can enjoy a good survival kit. If you're Yellow or with no side, which is the only way to rule a nation, you eat shit. And then, everyday they say on TV that soon this'll be better, that some sacrifice is necessary to save the whole country... and some more bullshits... And the Saviour is enjoying the show.
I had this conversation earlier with a local friend of mine. As a conclusion, we found out that it was now time to do what you want because only short time plans are conceivable and possible. Because there's no time left to save the planet and our souls... What souls ? I declare it's time for each of us to enjoy the show.

3

2011-10-30T11:29:00.003+01:00

'3' should have been untitled "No strings attached". But this is not the conclusion of this afternoon of nice conversation about relationships with a nice guy, Mister T.
Very hard to define the meaning of "no strings attached" since each time you meet someone you create a link. Let's be pragmatic like an hardware dealer and let's describe a string. It's long but thin. If any the string is short and too thin, it becomes useless and incapable to tie the knot... So, it's plain to see that "not strings attached" involves short times relationship and since relationship needs time, it doesn't involve any relation. "No strings attached" is purely a merry trade of good feelings and actions in a brief time.
No, this post won't be the conclusion of any "no strings attached" since Ken denies this expression and what it involves : selfhiness, irresponsability and cowardice. Ken prefers deals. Deal with someone, deal with a situation rather than cut something in-between.

"3" is the number Ken doesn't accept. He learnt he can't be the 1st for someone else even in a relationship. He learnt the "Me First" lesson even if he put guys before him in each serious relationship and he recently had the comfirmation he was the best to happen in someone else's love life. Anyway, Ken did his love masterpiece but he refuses the next to be a pale copy.
So "2" is the number. Is the key. Ken accepts to be the 2nd in someone else's heart. But he refuses to play the understudy in the comedy of love. The scene is huge enough for him to have his own 1st role and share the text. But Ken is not a puppet, so no string and no manipulation. Ken wants somethin' clear.
A commitment ? It's far too serious. A contract ? It's too far too complicated. Just a nice relationship.

Lonely Planet

2011-10-25T11:40:00.003+02:00

... to a friend i lost.

No, she's not dead. Just married with children. Of course, we all saw this episode in Sex and the City when Carrie and Stannie are invited for a friend's kid b-day party. Yes, we all remember, and Carrie's pair of Manolo too... People changes it's ok... But they totaly denied who they were before... and it's shit. Of course, we can't trust in stupid promises we made. Words are not a commitment. Of course, we all getting old and change our mind. But friendship... Despite the differences, religions, education, money, this girl was my girl. We used to party together, i used to comb her hair. We used to talk 'bout literature together, we used to shop...
I remember we used to be foreigners in Paris, the tall blond and i.
I remember his greek-sounded name.
I remember those nites between Ally McBeal and R'n'B music...
Of course i miss her. I contacted her. She never replied. I heard that... but it's not the same. I heard she was married, i heard she had a baby last winter. But it's not the same.

I can say now i lost most of my friends. I can say they never contacted me or replied my mail. I can say it hurts.
I saw such many things in 3 years in Bkk. As a French man here and heir of a land of calm where nothin' ever happens but complains, i saw so much things. Like Pharaoh i had to accept and challenge plagues, chicken disease, earthquake, revolutions, bombs, influenza, strikes and now floodings... I had my 7 sins here and i won't come back and i'll carry on. But i'm really and deeply and madly affected by the people i used to call my friends and never asked me when times here were bad or never reply to my e-mail.
Of course we all have a job, a private life, problems and life's a bitch, she's a challenge for all of us. Yes, i choose to leave France. But i never abandoned my friends or deserted my people.

But all this makes me stronger and i must say daily life in a huge city like Bangkok teaches me somethin' almost every day. Misery, opulence, melting pot, fake people, good people, smiles and tears... almost every day.

Previously, this post was about music i used to listen with that special friend. Now, this post is about the music i hear imaginin'her in her daily life. And so the music leads me in the lonely planet.

'Till the World Ends

2011-10-20T14:21:00.003+02:00

Pooh all those calendars and bah all the lyrics. Screw all the felonious articles and fuck all the predictions... We're gonna have a party until the world ends... Cacophony, logorrhea, shake the diseases... U're not tellin' people what will happen, u just want people to be scared. But let us blow our minds...

Mother Earth is scolding us, threatening us. Apocalypse may come soon, oceans are running into lands, volcanos and bombshells are exploding from everywhere destoying streets and avenues. The war is declared and i'm living by the river. But the dancefloor is hot tonite and i'll dance untill the world ends.
Walls are fading to gray. No rainbow anymore over the dusty clouds. No peace, no color. People are, people are chary. Under the masks is all about guile. But my pencils and brushes are ready now and i'll paint blue skies and pink plums untill the world ends.
Lines are modern arcanes. Colums are turbid. Teachers speak recondite words and people have to read between the lines. Screens and papers want people to live with diffidence, keep their head off. All that you write can be erasable, on the Internet, on the notebooks, on the walls... But i still have my pen sharpen and i'll write untill the world ends.

Untill your world ends. Because, of course, people like me (and they really do) don't give a shit about your words. U can make revolutions, u can make plants explode, u can... i'm gonna tell u a secret... i'll seal it with a kiss...
We're already died once, in the middle of the 80's. So far, we want to have fun, we want dance and sing untill now. It's always the same lyrics we sing. Forever biting on your nuts, born this way, trouble for me... and i seal it with a kiss.
Since we're not afraid of who we are, we just not afraid of the calendars, predictions or columns... And if tomorrOZ morning will be under the sea, we'll dance with mermaids and i'll fuck with sailors...

Never forget that Apocalypse means Revelation... let's get conscious honeys, and let's make the world end...

Radiant Mythology; thanx Mircea Eliade

2011-10-06T18:12:00.007+02:00

I'll success where science failed for ages. I'll never die. "M" is my name, "M" is the letter. Mythology, Memorable, but also Murder and Manipulation. If sciences create invention, arts and lifestyles create re-invention... Start from nothing creates H-bombs, discover radium. Scientist can reply "we create vaccins and anti-virus", artists say they give a solution to the problems and diseases they pour in our souls. Art gives no illusion; no answer. Art is a radiant mythology. Art doesn't even need you.

I was born many centuries ago. I was successively a King, an impostor, an illegitimiate borned thief who loved necklaces and gold. I slept for years and back in "M" people. Or, i better say the "M" letter allows us immortality. Yes, i have the key to be immortal. "M", La Motte, Maria Antonia, Mishima, Madonna, Maetel... create and re-create, compose and recompose, live and relieve people... Mister North; this is the key. Be brilliant, ignore the other people, be yourself and don't hesitate to risk your life for integrity... the radiant Mythology.
Some say i'm a bit Narcissist. But Narcisse took the wrong way, he didn't read between the lines. Then he died. He was a "N" word... too fast boy... Pity. And since "M" comes before "N", Narcisse was just a pale copy... a pale movie. Sad.
"M" is the 13th letter. The one just in the middle. It means it's the limit between everything and its opposite. Opposite terms, opposite signs, opposite sexes... Flore, you also a "M" in your family name... "M" is a balance. Since it's in the middle, "M" can judge. But "M" prefers not to judge. "M" prefers act. I poisoned stupid Alice, I get a rid of Coraline, i turned Dorothy, Le Petit Prince and Lydia into piglets, i broke Michiru's mirror, I tortured innocents Jo, Beth, Meg and Amy... some "M" are stronger than others...
"M" is also Megalomania... but just a synonym of Mythology for stupid people only self-centred and not smart enough to open their eyes. Do it cowards, keep watchin' TV, press the good buttons, obey to your boss and vote for a better future. Connards...
"M" is the mother word... in many language. It means origins, protection, creation... Of course, reproduction is a vain thing. Mishima told this. Reproduction is the same tradition since living beigns exist. Boring. "M" is not reproduction, mere copy, but a real challenge. This year, the color will be Emeralds Green... Mark "M" Jacobs.

"M" is finally "Mutation" and "Mutant". Since a few weeks, i've been qualified as a freak by people who don't understand both my way of life and sexuality. Screw them. Bit i'm a real freak. And if u think i'm not because i claim i am, so fuck you. I am... But i'm not weird. I'm different. "M" is minority. i'm gay and i hate sodomy... Minority in minority... I was born to make me happy...
I'm a "Mutant" because i like to change. If tonite i'm writing white be sure my mind is black. Dull. Anyway... just read what i write, not what i think. U're not allowed in my mind brats. "Mutant" because if i'm not special, i am - at least - not afraid to test, try or taste things. Because i like to challenge myself and please, don't piss me off with Right and Wrong. I am Justice since i'm a "M".
I love Mishima, and i love Madonna, and i Love Marie Antoinette and I love Maetel and i love Myself.
And don't think you're all speacial because u're all a "Myself"... U just don't know what you are. So, please, keep watching TV, keep vote for a better future and PLEASE, keep thinkin' imma freak.

Alice in Borderline

2011-09-24T18:46:00.004+02:00

First of all, sorry for this irrelevant and unlogical song...
When he was young, Ken thought life was a miracle, so wonderful, so beautiful. So magical. Then he realized in this world he was not alone. And he had to deal with you. Of course, among you they were firemen, so sexy... older men so strong. Goodbye strangers... But those guys were just pictures in the skies with diamonds...
Ken u're a weirdo... u're a stranger... Then the world turned alsept and u stayed tuned. Just too tuned to be true... they can't put their eyes on you. Those motherfuckers... Ken knows he'll finally turn bad. He just hopes this is for soon... because he can hold with this anymore.
"U're a strange guy" they say... "How come u cannot be fucked ? How come u don't save money for u old days ? How come u don"t think about life after work" ?
Ken replies... "How come can i still bear u in my life ? Fuck U all assholes !"

There was a line and a point. And then they meet. A few good men took them... and used them. Ken is probably too dumb to even see them... But those few good men and women made things... Made universes, Oz, Wonderlands, the House behind the Door, the Cabin, the Chimney... and so...
Ken is still so weak he cannot do anythin'else to worship those people. Those people who dare fuck all of u and be themselves. Ken is still lookin' 4 his house.
Ken loves Yuna, Dorothy, Madonna, Mishima, Alice, Coraline, Peter Pan and so; because they have guts enough to tell you... SCREW YOU motherfuckers...

To the people who try to control Ken, he says, fuck U
To the poeple who try to put him in a narrow room, he says screw U
To the poeple who try to bridle him, he says fuck U
And to people who say he's strange; he says SCREW all of you...
Piss off bitches... And gone with the wind...

There was a line and a point... But sometimes Ken see them and soon,
fireworks,
flowers in the skies
bridges to nowhere
a city of green stones
an octopuss garden with
a man who eats 50 eggs.

And far, far away, a huge hole a shit... And inside this shit, all of you bastards who try to put Ken off...

All the modern sins...

2011-09-16T17:46:00.002+02:00

Sin. If u speak a lil' thai, u know ศีล -pronounced siin - means the first 5 precepts of Buddha. Don't take off life, don't take what's is not allowed, don't drink alcohol, don't cheat people, don't lie. Almost the same for the others religions, or at least philosophies. It's all about self control.
Of course, everything's about control is obsolete. I mean control now is nothin' but video cameras on public transportations or department stores, your boss who checks how many times a day u leave ur desk to shit, and so. I mean please u want a piece of me ? I do believe in God but i also wonder why He just abandonned the game. I'm not that kind of people who needs an army dedicated to God or do some massive pilgrimage written on the books or a wall. I just believe that one religion is closer to mine because it's explicit lyrics. Clear. But i still don't understand why i should join a crowded synagogue. But at the same time, i think like have a trip to the Jerusalem Syndrom now and then... just for me, not for a so-called cold communauty.
Ok, Ok... back to Bangkok... nice name. How come people can control themselves here. A place where senses deepen and most of the time worsen. And please, don't tell me Western people abuse local people...
So, how can i control myself, control my self control in this profusion and debauchery of colors, smells, lights, shapes, odours, tastes... Big time sensuality. So i cannot control as i like strong or chubby men, as i like symmetry, as i like colors, as i like perfumes... All the perfumes of Arabia cannot get a rid of me...
I do believe God didn't give us free will. He gave us. And a fuckin' few good men took the lead to hold us down. Apocalypse please, may the Force be with me. I swear to God, like did the Irish girl that i'll do eveything i can to survive, may i kill, steal, lie and abuse. My animal Instinct. I also swear i'll enjoy lights, shapes, materials and so until the day that i'll die. Because it's all about inspiration and emancipation. Religion or tradition are all about emancipation. Not copycat and blind acceptation. Thanx God i'll find myself someday, somewhere. Off a wall...
The show must go on... That's a revelation.

My post blue...

2011-09-15T16:50:00.002+02:00

It's in your vein Kenny,
It's in the fuckin' acid in.
It's in your brain Kenny,
In the purple's daily rainin'.
It's in the bottles Kenny,
And in the colors all the day.
It's in Wonderland baby,
Of blue and sad, and dark and grey.

There's no together Kenny,
But nite pitch black
Oz faded away.

It's in their lies Kenny,
It's on their words so vain.
kenny it's all about you cry
with a song to say goodbye.
There's nothin' to fight the fire,
No white powder in fire extinguisher.
There's no fairy to erase the mistake,
No angel, no Lady in the Lake.

There's no together Kenny,
But nite pitch black
Oz faded away.

It's in your bubble Kenny,
The ominous sex you like to play.
It's in your dancehall baby
But the club kids have run away.
It's in your future honey,
The picture burnt on the chimney
It's in your past honey
You still don't have the key.

There's no together Kenny,
But nite pitch black
Oz faded away.

"Where is my mind?" they say
Where is the way.
It's up to you 'till all went blue.
It's between mind, heart, hole and you.
Kenny, here come post blue.

There's no together Kenny,
But nite pitch black
Oz faded away.

Final Fantasy

2011-09-10T13:19:00.003+02:00

All my dreams have fade away but still remain my fantasies from miles away, so far away. On and on i started to see the pictures so clear, but deep, too deep. And in a minute... as i wanted it, i got it.
Yes, it took time, more than 4 minutes to save my world.
Definitions. Fantasies vs. Fantasy vs. Fantasia... last nite a DJ saved my life. The week was so cool in fantasies and fantasy. Back to Sunday when mister Dean came once again and gave me the beat to go on for hours. Sexy man, handsome look and manly attitude. Natural born sweet killer, he's a sexy gunner... AussieBum speedo, dim all the lites and Iphone... Sex, Lies and Videotapes, this is a definition for fantasies. Acting without pretending and writing my own legend, this is a definition of fantasy. Put a record on, beats and drums, bites and dreams, here comes the fantasia... Dean controled, played, put his hands all over my body and killed me so softly that i thought, for a short while, i was having the best sextime of my life. But i want more, do me more. This is a Fantasy. Worshiping, giving, taking, breaking... Licking, wanting, waiting, kissing... fantasy is that short that's it's the Ultimate weapon, the ephemeral fantasia, and the eternal sonata... But tramps like us baby, we were born to run.
Fantasy is the way to express the self. And, if it often includes people, it's all about yourself. Me against the world, people in the crowd... A long, long time ago i wanted to have sex with 2 men... and for that i needed a few ingredients. A couple, a mood, and my brain. Last nite, perhaps because Venus was close to Mars and stars above me showed me the way, i did it. Bernt and Shinji are nice men. And i'd like to thanx them for the nice moment. More than just a threesome, mood went crescendo until late at nite. From Dead or Alive in the restaurant to Bach in the bed (it's pleasant to have sex with classical fantasias) we didn't need lyrics to write the whole story. It's was just good, simply sweet and sexy. Not only you and me, got one eighty degrees and I’m caught in between...
Me and My World and My Merry Melodies... for a Final Fantasy.
And then comes to my head the conversation i had last nite about men here. Yes, i must confess i'm not into thai men for a relationship. Of course, we never know. But just a few hours with foreigners here reminded me how deep i'm European and how strong are my desire to go ahead in my life. And i just feel i can't carry on here in Bangkok. Not for a relationship. Final Fantasy is also a long trip to continue until' i can reach the limits of the Milky Way, in a train, in the dark, with the long and thin and blond Lady... as the Legend has to be a Saga.
健太郎 takes the 999 with the blondie !

どこいるの？

2011-08-24T18:22:00.003+02:00

With my head on the ground and my feet in the air... where is my home, where is my Wonderland...
Oz has closed its gates and the Emarald City's now rotten from every parts. Alice cannot sleep anymore since she has to pay the rent and she has to deal with a divorce. Dorothy lost the red shoes and lil' Toto died under the hot wheels of a truck. The Queen and the Witch won. Nowadays, there's nothin' left under and over the rainbow. The straw is dry for Scarecrow and only his shadow can make the birds go away.
Princess Ozma lost her mind as she combed her hair. She took the tea with the Queen of Heart who never had a shadow of one. And she lost. Off with her head.

With my head on the ground and my feet in the air. Mary Poppin's bag is now empty. No light, no syrup, no song anymore. She's close to old Wendy, wondering why Peter faded away. She's close with scissorhands wondering why... she's everybody else' girl... leather and lace, poor bitch on the throne drowned by Water.

With my head on the ground and my feet in the air... where is my Wonderland ? Through the mirror, through the pages, through the years, silence all these years.
Coraline, Sarah, U can run but u can't fun.
There's no escape but a loaded gun.
U can cry but all cry.
U'll grow old with tears and rye.
My super sisters... There were Jo, Beth, Meg and Amy...

So, i lost my childhood, i lost my head and heart. Where's my home... Where i am... doko iru no ?
Let's see tomorrow; let's start another chapter...
Demo, ima, hon wa tojite iru...

Hip-hop

2011-08-21T16:33:00.002+02:00

The stupid unconscious and vain 90's taught Ken a fugitive lesson which still keeps the bell ringing... Tupac was not anymore with us and both queens Aaliyah and Left Eye Lopes had still a few years to breath before they crash. Milian was not "born" yet and the music went with the flow.
... In this in-between, Ken learnt hip-hop... Snoop, Da Dog Pound, Aaliyah of course the goddess... and TCD, the Daughters. Thanx Ken's bro who taught him some sounds. Hip-hop is THE music that needs a teacher to be apreciated. It's complicated, deep and dark no matter the samples, sounds or lyrics. It was before In Da Club and the Candy Shop. Before any Emancipation...
From this holy time, far from shit dance music or euroshit, Silly Oh said the 3 girls... today Ken keeps California sounds. East coast, West coast, war was declared... Paris, Marseille, the same battle. I am ombre est lumière. This was before Ken discovered rock and glitters. But the deep things were around Casino and Sharon Stone's 57 outfits in the movie. The thing was french rap and hip-hop and... yes boy talks... Ken likes French hip-hop... Princess of Poetry. NTM was a revelation. First, i didn't like. But Ken tried again... if at first u don't succeed... u know the pont, Romeo must die. Then, love came long time after the band's early years... but still remains now. The sound so peaceful but the lyrics so aggressive... and Paris sous les bombes...
All nites longs with the last and really last but not the least Sony walkman alone in the dark with French rap and raggasound. Morning bus to university with Raggasonic on the ears... and listen to the Raggasonice groove... some Fonky Expeditions and sample to ride on... Some moments @ work between a break and those fuckin' Mc Chiken. Some nice people, Delphine i miss u bitch... J'aime les regards que tu glisses sur moi...
And Hip-hop is still the music that's making Ken feel better. Because it's dark and dull... when i can't sleep @ nite.
Today Ken downloaded a veryyyyyy old compilation of French rap; rnb and ragga performed by ladies... and this reminded those precious things he learnt in the darkest parts of his whole life. This crazybitchmadness... Some said they love R'n'roll which Ken does, but some showdown nites, Ken just needs hip-hop and jerky rhythms... Once again, thanx bro for NTM, TLC and TCD... Time went by so fast but still runs the flavor of the old school... Lord, have mercy...

In limbo

2011-08-09T14:54:00.002+02:00

Not another teen crisis... Just another "if u seek @ me" one.
Today, Ken visited a super-upper condo a sweet friend of him just baught. Nice place, cosy, creamy... somethin' kinda classy. At first he heard the price, he didn't understand how many zeros a place needs to belong to someone. Then, the iPhone helps in many ways, he noticed this place requires 5 years of his mere wage to be baught. Somethin" around 15 years of credits and debts. Very daring when Ken doesn't even know where he wants to live. But it's a very nice place. Very comfy for a PS3 nite or a sweet sex party...
So, after the visit some movie has been mentioned. But nothin' else but Captain America bullshit or the last Julia Roberts' crime. When people will understand she was only good in Pretty Woman ? So, nothin' very good on screens in Thailand, and it's not really a big surprise. Then back home, Ken and friend started to watch - oops, i did it again - The September thing u all know. Until friend decided to leave. And it was a really good decision.
Some kinda uneasiness... a deep uncomfort for Ken... just in his face... Ken, u still don"t have a place u can call yours, no target, no goal and still desperatly seeking... my name is not Susan... double quote. Great.
Currently, Ken lives somewhere over the rainbows, a place between Toto village and Muse, in Suikoden universe. Next month, his best friends will be Vivi Ornutier and princess Alexandria from Final Fantasy IX. Where is my mind ?
Ken is still the guy who sees things when u talk to him and the guy who drinks too much. He's still the same guy who doesn't like TV and the one who's bitin'on your nuts. Ken is a guy who doesn't really know where he belongs but in limbo... THE place to be before Hyde and Seek and Long Table. This is some innuendos for the happy few.
I guess Ken refuses to be dictated. And it's clear to see he refuses to understand the most of all... Too much informations kill the information. Step by step, day by day... road by road, Ken just doesn't know.
But he's not sad. Until he listens to the people and the things they dictated. Perhaps he's not free.
He's just dumb.

We need you... another syndrom

2011-07-15T13:05:00.002+02:00

'My very dear fellow-countrymen and ladies ( bastards). I'm glad to see you today ( stupid sheeps) and i frankly want to tell you ( as long as you accept we all fuck you very deeply) how much i'm proud of you !
Some say there are problems in our beautiful country. Some say there are from a country where children of unumployed people don't have the right to eat at the dining hall at school ( anyway, your stupid little sluts and their mini-skirts are only hungry for dicks and make up). Some say people are suffering and dying from heat or cold in seasons ( porks, animals, cattles. If they croak, there're more pigsties for you). Some talk too much. I propose to act (when u're watching tele programs and you keep buying what we show on screens) to make you happy.

I propose to give what a people like you (scumbags, bitches, sissies, assholes) deserves. I propose to offer the best I can for each citizen. Give my all, my everything (as long as you keep the head down twats). I propose a job for every single one ( work, creepy slaves, work). I offer a better day every single day.
I beg you to listen to me. I know you, I know your name. I know what you want ( money, success, fame, glamour, but look at you shit bags, cum bags. What u need is what u'll get). And i promise you happiness. I promise sunny tomorrows, and seasons in the sun ( real TV, seasons 2,3 and 4 it's the maximum u can understand). I promise teachers on schools (for what it's worth, your fuckin' kidds only get the a to z from MTV, i won't do more).
If you vote for me ( bastards, pricks, motherfuckers, cocksuckers), tomorrow u'll be happy to wake up (for my own private morning glory). If you vote for me, i'll be the leader of a real nation ( gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme more...) and a shepherd ( u don't even get this tongue twister since u're stupider than assholes). I'll be your guide (I'm already your messiah. Keep sacrifices yourselves for me).
My very dear fellow countrymen and ladies, I am the campaigner for a better after and happier. Me, Gilles de la Tourette, i promise myself to make you up (but still under my soles, pucky shits).'

I'm counting on you (sons of a bitch).

The Savior

2011-06-15T08:00:00.003+02:00

Think better, happier.
But deeper is bitter.
Picture, color
on the screen Savior
the thin is better.
Like a prayer,
Like a lawyer,
think better, happier.
See the Doctor,
wash the Siner
away. Stronger.
For ever remember,
"think lower is better".
Do whatever,
be whoever,
go wherever,
never after,
"think lower is better".
Don't ask too harder.
Don't try to bother.
Always think forever
I am not your brother,
and "think lower is better".
Be cleaner, shimmer,
follow the leader
to never shiver.
No big boner,
no real banner,
no brain trainer,
and always remember
"Think lower is better".

Decay "--de"

2011-06-02T15:16:00.002+02:00

Classic and traditionnal Buddhism classified 5 clues in an angel's decay. It sureley makes sense in a huge city, and in a City of Angels above all.
In his final novel, The Decay of the Angel (天人五衰, Tennin Gosui) Mishima explained this theory with his hero, Toru. The flowery crown of the Angel first withers, then sweat pours from His armpits, the robe soiled, self-insatisfaction comes and finally His body becomes fetid, stops to give off light and the eyelids tremble. In short, the Angel refuses to see the world and human as they come. Good for Him. Mishima died on 1970 but his last hero survived. 7 years later, 7 years itch... Ken was sent from the sky to the floor, like a dog shits on the street. 7 years, long time enough to be Mishima's next hero. I know this introduction seems pretty long but be patient... You have nothin' else to do anyway.
The decay runs as a river does. The decay runs through decades. And Ken is kinda proud, he came through all these years. If the previous stigmatas were physical stains of a sinner mind, the newest signs of decay deal with urban nature. In the late 60's, Mishima prophesied Japan will become a powerfull country, a monster, which will disappear and will be destroyed by an inner sin. He should have prophesied for the whole world... and then after those previous decays, new specific values like money, success, fame and glamour rose from Nowhere in the late 80's. Ken was 10 yo and already knew that everythin' will end in a huge KABOOM ! And then those values ran until the early 2000's when they ran dry. So Ken grew during those times when everything was possible, but too young or blasé, he didn't take the chance. And now, these 5 values ( sex includes) are too obsolete to be outrageous, too so obsolete to be decays.

Ken's generation put through this before the mutiny. Because he grew with those things, he takes them for granted - as his parents and the parents of his parents did before with the previous decays of life, the time has come for Ken to tame and destroy them and find newest stains.
Ken's generation doesn't give a shit of success and fame... If previously anybody could be somebody in a minute, now nobodies pretend to be someone... as if they even deserve to breath... Ken is not jealous. Money ? Ken learnt to live with and without. One month he buys Vuitton, the next one he eats pastas everyday... You know we all are parasites, bugs. Glamour ? Of course Ken is and this words means nothing (does it mean Ken means nothing? Tricky ). It's a kind of word journalists create when they don't know what to write. Ask 10 people what "glamour" is and who's glam' and u'll get 10 different answers... Then sex... Seriously... is sex still need to be vilified ? If so, Ken is happy to leave in a land of freedom.

Of course, this post is not an answer and Ken ignores what are those 5 news decays. He only knows Mishima died when he was 45 years old and that the new decade just starts... Long introduction and short conclusion... Of course... the show must go on.

Da capo, a tribute

2011-05-21T14:06:00.002+02:00

Up and down, once in a while, but don't turn around...

Da capo, more and more, to get strong and put the head on on the streets... da, da capo and the dreams come true. There's a light, i saw the sign and i'm gonna be strong, i'm gonna do fine...
Da, da capo and you dream will come true. Today's is the shit, but the Wheel of Fortune soon change the destiny... Live in the city and you turn from nada to a beautiful life... It happens that a cruel summer turn to a winter melody.
Look at the people on the streets, here come poverty, there drink the richy... and in the middle the river runs... Hallo, hallo, this can be you... in both sides one day to another. Da, da capo, and the dreams turn blue... C'est la vie.
City deals with you like nowhere else. Happy nation, happy citizen but streets seize my days. Life's a bitch, life is a flower... one day to another. Da, da capo and the things turn you. Are you waiting for magic but the shit comes true... Voulez-vous danser ? Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ? Everything can happen at nite. Anyway, tell'em we've gone too far to stop now. What's worth living if it's not livin'in danger ?

Da, da capo, all that we want, all that she wants, all that i want... cross the bridge, climb the towers, dig the subway, static is the landscape you follow all day long, all life long... Music in the ears, images in the eyes, Ken shines down the stars... All, all around, da , da capo. All, all around, and young and proud. It's in the air, on the cement, in the laments of the haunted places, in the sound of the golden palace... the maze for human race. City's a big challenge.

Da, da capo, I'm never say i'm sorry...

Ken version 2.0 一人で遊ぶ

2011-05-11T15:50:00.003+02:00

Games, toys, games, toys... u know what i mean ? It's hot... So, after this parishiltonian-like introduction let's talk about games... video games.
Yes, fashion and nitelife (including, cocktails and cock tales) are not the most important things in life... or, at least, they share the 'trimurti' in Ken's life, compete fot his own private olympic podium... Ken is a game addic. Et toc !
Present Holy Times when we can get what we want, Ken switch from one joystick to another... Kidd paddle-me, toodle doo... Last week, Ken baught a NDSi, and not a 3DS too painful for the eyes and since then, he did not stop playin' all time... to the extent that last Sat. colleagues called him during the lunch break to know if he went school in the morning. Thailand land of ghosts, Ken is one of them...
So the game started with the fabulous "Last Window" a criminal game. See the picture. Of course, DS doesn't lull you in a mood of fantasies because the screen is small and sounds are weak... But the story just bound Ken. He's in love with the hero, a 34 yo (like him) secret detective... Of course... the most important thing is not the games but the way they allow Ken to escape from... YOU ! It's time for a tribute for this girl who comes in Bkk from time to time to visit family. She'll recognize herself, so the tribute is over... บ้า !
Ken claims... games are the part of him that allowes the most of freedom. Free to decide, free to control... free to forget all what happens around him... Ken is not too big, it's the picture that are too small... The point is our society ( let's talk in singular because we are all the same on this planet) allow us to consume, use and abuse of things, objects, gadgets, toys, boys... oops. Then, in a strange way, Ken is quite happy that some material things can make him happy. And satisfy.

Ken started a version 2.0 in which he enjoys to play on his own, herself, alone... in the dark. This is like an eternal sonata, a "un"final fantasy for Ken who will never end the journey... He already wrote about that months ago, but it has to be repeated once again. Just to let u know more about Ken. Life is not like a chocolate box, but like a mechanical one. Wireless... A Free connection. A infinite Network... Ken's brain's controlled by images... Some bugs, some programs and a pinch of viruses... He's a machine... But with gold in veins and love in flesh... A mechanical animal, his favorite... way of thinking.
And then, at this point, Ken doesn't ask people to understand or accept him... just because he rejects -almost- everyone in his universe... in his leijiverse... some people will understand this last word.
Life is... shit definition time... Life is a guy all dressed in black, sipping a Manhattan and playing the very expected FinalFantasy XIII-2 on his sofa... With or without a guy close to him...
Ken learnt all the lessons well... but his most favorite of all is the lessons he can teach and learn himself, by experience. Life's a game... Ken is a gamer, not a gambler... it's funny how "not" and "bit" are close on the keyboard...
See you on the next stage... Ken has to clear the map before upgrade his weapon. It's a long hard way to the final boss... and no "GAME OVER" allowed... อะไร?

This post is all dedicated and devoted to Maetel, Yuna, Michiru, Oerba team and the next ones... 健太郎 takes the 999 with the blondie !

Love me, sex me...

2011-04-20T14:39:00.002+02:00

Sex is good with strangers. It's hot, risky, sticky, tacky and endless... Love is sweet, is tenderness, careless and hopeless... No risk, no glory. But u know what, ask me what i prefer between the two of them and i'll answer... i don't know. I fucking don't know.
Why? Multiple encounters in a huge city are like a supermarket. U like the package, u ask, sometimes you pay - anyway - and u bring it home for a delicous moment. Multiple choice in the city is not a test tere but a consumption, a personal use. This guy really suits to my shirt tonite.
What will i do tomorrow? What about my future until the 12.21th.2012 ? So, if i cannot help myself, how can i help a plus one ? By the way, exit the stupid songs in which i can help myself and i need a sugarpie to make my day. Ken used to be in a M. Husband+1 relationship where he was the +1. But after life made them part, after breaks that turned into separations, after pain and suffering, yes Scarlett, tomorrow is another day, but Ken turned from M. Husband+1 to him+ a possibly, maybe probably 1... Shitty tricky equation.
On the other hand, sex is a STR and good enough to, most of the time, see the best of the partner. Once, two times, three times and C U soon... Keep in touch... my ass. But nowadays, with 34567 friends on the Facebook, three times is already a LTR.
Love takes time and efforts, love involves sacrifices, choices and plans. Then, u're quickly tired. Wake up in the morning, look at the clock. Back home after a long day at work and set the clock... U're already more than 35 years old. And u're exhausted. Love, i mean relationship allows to forget the clock from time to time. But no time for sex with M. Husband. Little by little, M. Husband is not your lover anymore. Then, little by little, Eros fall from Xtra to "nada"... This is for one person... so imagine what happens in a couple.
Sex is good with strangers because it's freshy, and picky. U decide who. U decide when. U decide where... sometimes how much. Love is really good but just cannot fulfill our fantasies and body. Is that selfishness to want Love and Sex together ? It doesn't mean and i don't believe that sex is the most important thing in a relationship. But cut a leg on your vintage Marc Jacobs pants and u're naked and... unprotected.

Meds

2011-03-23T14:54:00.002+01:00

It's all about shit. Kenny did you take your meds today ? Did you watch on TV the news they gave ? Did you understand well that in North all the humans are good and in the South, they're all bad. Did you listen to the Lady in Black and to the Mister Nice Tie, how deeply sad they were about Liz's death, how excited they were when scientists found out Japan approched USA. Because pictures tell the truth and only the truth. Because it's such a relief to stand on the right side of the planet. Did you applause for the reciepe this morning on your fav' show ? "It's so good to see you, I hope you're doing well"... Did you take you meds today ?
Did you read the new today ? Free news for free papers. Good enough for you but hardly good enough for shit... Daily Post, Bangkok Post, NY Post... Post Blue... This is the new shit. And then you read the obituary because soon you'll be one of them, and then you read the sports because this is the only things you can understand, and then you read horoscope because this is your only hope. The first page is up for compete with old scandals and terrorism cases... Did you take your meds today ? They feel bad for you.

Of course, the reign of terror keeps you tuned and scared. You're scared so you're easy to control. Of course, everybody says control is elsewhere, only in countries tamed by a tyran, only in lands of war. Happy is the one you read and see those atrocities on the paper or on the silly little square. Television, Internet and Publications rule the nations. And you like this, it's so comfortable, so nice to be like the family next door... They like you; they watch you and accept you as long as you follow them. But pay attention, this family next door is probably abusing poor illegal immigrants, the daughter probably likes sex and the son is surely free in his mind, free to decide... and he has a jigsaw under his bed.
Just smile, relax and take a nap. It's enough. But don't forget to take your daily meds. Poor creature.

- Kenny, did u take your meds today ?
- No, i didn't... Screw you !

Celebrity Skins or when i hate masses...

2011-03-12T15:32:00.003+01:00

Have you heard this bastard ?
Have you heard these cowards ?
Lemme tell you about this fashion designer vilified by a stupid dumbass who yet regrets his act... Did you read this case of this tyrant who sold the world... Of course, we all know these news because masses only pay attention on what they say on TV or on the Internet. If they say you have to hate this one, then masses hate him. Last seasons Evil was in North Korea ? For this season He's under the Libyan sun... And every boday hates, yes everybody, "clap your hands"... Last years Devils was wearing Prada ? This fall He'll fell for Dior.
Of course, masses love the Good guy... Vote for me, Heal the World, make it a better place... But did they only know that King of Pop also performed for the current Ennemy of Earth.? Of course, they don't. CNN after fouled His Pedophile Majesty of Moonwalk made him a God... And then the masses redeemed.
So now, ennemies are fashion designers. Drunk and stupid man, of course, but only a drunk one. But this shitty society masses beg for prohibits alcohol, cigarets and sex...
Hey, have you heard those bastards ? I say, have you heard those cowards ?
Celebrity skins have to be hatred to be accepted. Modern Christs, no matter is their religion or star upon us, masses have to hate them to feel comfy on their own. Stupid bastards. It's so easy to judge without knowin'... Also easy to judge someone who declare he doesn't give a shit of what happen here and there when masses only read news on the Internet, in their chair, waitin' for the wage to fall and buy some spirits... If only alcohol could make them spiritual... Yes, this month, poor Libya, and fuck off Korea. Because, as i heard today " we don't have any news from Korea"... So it means, everything's in the right place there there...
But when comes the rain again, and this man, all dressed in black masses scream the Beast is back. But we're good people. Because we don't do anything... but we're better than you, because we refuse to speak in tongue... and clearly declare we don't give a fuck...
Yes, i have heard those bastards.
Yes, i have heard those cowards.
Oh yes, i hate those masses... I like to be alone, with my happy few, with or without you... I can't feel sorry for somebody i don't know. I just cannot pretend i feel sorry for somebody i don't know. Don't want to be good to be true, i can't tell i'm sorry when it's not true... 'Caus i'm True.

4 minutes to read the post

2011-03-05T13:23:00.002+01:00

One nite i dreamt of san Pedro and since music makes my world go round. And makes me hectic with a young voice that shrilled on the early years and slowly became deep'n low. When i'm borderline, when i feel deeper and deeper, when i cherish i think of her. Her music inferno makes me jump and don't stop the party. She gets me into the groove and makes me wanna die another day.
My first memory about her was during my childhood, of course. My parents went out home and i was alone, listning to records... did U remember them? This used to be my playground. Then i heard True Blue. Very old fashioned for me, and i wondered "who's that girl" ? the voice was bad. The sound was obsolete... I felt sorry and asked for someone to rescue me. That's true, until'now, each new album of her to me is a bad surprise at the start. I need to get used before i apreciate. For each new album i feel like a virgin. First, it's different from what i expected... And then, to much vocals, too many DJs and too mechanical... But soon delectable... even if, sometimes, lyrics are poor... she already did her act of contrition. She's not excellent, nobody's perfect. Sometimes a bad girl... We can also critice how material girl she is. And cheap sometimes... gym clubs, clothes... But i don't give a fuck... Because it's amazing what she can do, i cannot stop myself. I just wanna dance everytime i listen to the radio.
She helps me everytime i feel bad, everytime i feel love. She helps me to keep the beat goes on. She inspires me when i invite a Beautiful Stranger home for an erotica moment. I was accused to love her when i only liked her. She's not me, i'm not her... But jealousy and bad inspiration can put two men in love miles away. A man did it to me, and yes, I did it... I probably like her too much, i probably needs to admire some people who certainly don't deserve it. But i'm like that, it's human nature, it's my nature, u can like it or not.
I don't know how i can justify she's my favorite performer. She can't sing that good, she can't dance anymore, and she's boring with her philosophy and her will to save the world... She's almost everywhere, she's too present... And she keeps talking too much during concerts about peace and fraternity. Such annoying topics for me... But she's a performer... She got the secret to drive me musicaly horny and her words cut like a knife... she makes me unleash the beast within', inside of me.
And, i don't really pay attention to the things around her. I just need to apreciate her music. Don't tell me she's ridiculous tryin' hard to keep lookin'young. Don't invite me to any stupid facebook group against her of any public people.... Because forming a cabale against someone else is just pityful and frozen. You just don't express yourself but only take a bow like a coward. But i do have some opinions about them.
I really do like Madonna. For many years... and until' death do us part. Keep it together. It's time for a celebration.

The Coffee syndrome

2011-02-28T05:06:00.003+01:00

What 's the fuck some men take you for granted once they gave their dick and decide to kick you out of their arms. All that they want is fuck, fun and friends. It's obviously okay except that they refuse to pay everytime they misbehave. None of them deserve a post cup of coffee...
Lemme tell you, cup of coffee is the tragic and shakespearian moment when lovers say goodbye. Some kind of catharsis to purify bodies after battles and attacks... Must be sublime. Ken loves coffee...
The Coffee syndrome is the way those cowards try to keep you on his side. Pathetic doesn't make tragic. Black coffee is hard, bitter, tasty... Men who are suffering from this syndrome try to copy that. They try to be strong, to have character, and try to let you a sweet taste after they run on your throat. But they just propose a un-tasty cup of joe. Cup of coffee is the urban version of the white flag, with a super ego... They're not hot enough, and their temperature doesn't burn you longer enough. They're too pale to be dark, too sweet to be hard, forever wearing a cup between the legs. "Listen babe, it was good but... We can take a cup of coffee this week when u'll free"... sms is the shadow of a man. They don't deserve a cup of coffee.
Yes, they want everything, but the point is the previous men already drank all the cup. And from now on, they have to grind beans and fill the filter before they taste. They won't have anything before. Not a single bean. Ken can be your coffee breaker... let's take a cup after work and talk about us and play cup-and-ball. It's nice to be your coffee maker, in the morning, after "grande" nite. Sometimes it's sweet to be your coffee healer, you can confide in me i'll cure the death-cup that poisonned you... but not too much, devotion is not my cup of tea. And Ken can be your coffee fighter, need the World Cup...
Some come on coffee man.

The Placebo....

2011-02-21T15:11:00.002+01:00

... as a reply to the last post... Lastest post was too dark to be Ken, of course it wasn"t him, but the nicest part of him. Better say this part deserves to be forgotten... Anyway, Ken is back for sure and, of course, he has the secret reciepe to make the other guy better... You know, this guy who started this blog years ago and wasn't happy.
Yes, the previous post should have been :

You want my love,
take it all.
You want to watch it all come off,
take it all.

Come on now,
show me how
you can take it all.

You want my glove,
are you enthralled?
You want to see it slip away
and watch it fall?

Oh, we know it´s your show
so take it all.

You want the movement
to see what the hips can do.
Come watch the slikny girl,
see how the pasties twirl
to make your bells all ring
fulfulling everything you ever wanted.

So go ahead,
take it all.
You want my soul,
take it all.

It´s time to leave,
if I´m to live
becase I have no more,
there´s nothing left to give.

I watch you rise,
I watch you fall
while I am standing with my back
against the wall.

Now it´s your turn to finally learn,
you had the world,
you had your fling,
you wanted more than everything,
you got your wish,
you got your prize.

Now take it right between your thighs,
you grabbed for everything, my friend,
but don´t you see that in the end
there will be nothing left of me?...

... But someone new.
Ken has the secret to make himself happy... Bad news, bad guys, dirty bastards can do nothin' against the magical potion.
So, enjoying a Friday off then 2 weekend nites, Ken came back to the origins, beers, music and animation.
Special Asahi, Daft Punk's immortal anthems and some episodes of Matsumoto's sagas... Ths key in not in flesh even if dick is good. The key is not in love even if abandon is the hottest sacrifice Ken likes. The Key is on the keyboard, on the joystick, on the piano... The key is seclusion... Me and a gun and a man on my back... oops, this also can be good Tori, but when Ken is sick of men, sick of people, sicko Ken, nothin' else matters than Maetal, Final Fantasy and a super dry Asahi.
Ken is a geek.
Ken is a fashionista.
Ken is a fetishist.
Ken can be everythin' you want...
Ken likes animation, and everytime he watches Maetel or Harlock and the screens, he wants to cry. Because he's happy. " Next time we'll meet, i'll probably wear black"... eternal sonata of the blondie diva...
Ken is happy after all... Geekly happy... Otakuly happy... He was born to make him happy.
He deserves it.

During this post, Ken was listening the "Nine" soundtrack he discoverd in Japan last winter...

Unglorious bastards

2011-02-19T12:25:00.003+01:00

This time Ken, shut up. The mask is the gloss is the shield is broken. Time to Speak in Tongues, time to show my own colours. There was a time I used to Ask for Answers. But not anymore. I don't know why, in a very usual way men use to keep silence when they don't want to see you anymore, but it's a bit irritating. At least, I guess I still have a long life to learn how cowards they are. I'll learn and I'll learn untill The Bitter End. Am I so stupid that I cannot understand the reason why they don't like me anymore ?
The point is I don't really give a fuck if they like me or not - oops - but I ask for respect and truth. And I won't shut up. My Bigmouth Strikes Again. I want you bastards to tell me directly, not with silence or around a crowded table, when it's over. I don't want to analyze their decision, it's up to them. I'm just fed up with dumbs who want to change me, my tastes... and they fuck' me up. Shut up guyz who wants me to stop listening music I love. Screw you man who wants to fuck me and then suddenly disappear...
I was so happy the Days before You Came and then Post Blue because you abused. But soon Happy You're Gone because you abused.
When I love or like someone, it doesn't meant I'm a disposable bitch. I'm not made of glass, I'm not fragile or petite. No, they just hurt me when they decide to ignore me with the pale silence, like a Bruise Pristine. I also don't need a long explanation. I remember this drama one who claimed he didn't want to hurt me, he didn't want to make me cry... tryin' to keep silence until" I forgot him...
I hate this part of men... I mean, the coward one. Frankly, I respect more the one who talks about sex and clearly tells me he just wants a screw, but, please, don't pretend. Don't lie.
That's true, I love men. Centrefolds, Flesh Mecanics, but no Nancy Boy. I can love all of them. For one nite, one week or one life. I just want a real talk and a straight act. No U-turn, no metaphore, and no more vain seduction if they just wanna sex with me. F*** me I'm famous ( enough for them). For more details, it takes times. If you really like me, I'll be Yours. If you want some fun - shit another wrong quote - just knock at the door.
But please, don't lie. Every You, Every Me... we can make each other happy. I know I can shock. I am pushy, I am trashy sometimes. I have respect for you and more for me but I am terribly bitchy. But I'm true, and I'm real. I don't lie to men untill they ask me to betray myself. I'm crazy like a fool... what about you, Daddy Cool ???
Being a man is not only have muscles or huge biceps. You unglorious bastards.

Causin'a commotion

2011-02-14T09:45:00.004+01:00

I like to listen Madonna when i'm in a bad mood or in my best temper, it drives me crazy.
I like to sit on my sofa, sippin'white wine and readin'a Balzac's novel. It makes me fantasize.
I like to walk in Ichigaya area in Tokyo and take a look at the last Mishima's temple before he died. It makes my cry.
I like to watch a Matsumoto's animation and discover Maetel when she's not invited. It makes me shiver.
I like to cause people a serious commotion, revealin'them they're alive. It makes me feel like Isaac on the stone.
I like my ass on this picture because you know Man, it's all dedicated to you. It drives me horny.
I like to hear Daft Punk's Aerodynamic's eveyday because it's the climax of my life, it makes me feel a-live.
I like to think about tomorrow because i sacrificed the last day to Him, it makes me carry on.
I like to pray to God when i'm fine, 'cause He knows i'm Go(o)d,it makes me alive.
I like to dance under the stary skies @ midnite because i'm one in a million. It makes me sparkle.
I like to listen to the music because it makes me come together with myself. It makes me happy.
I like to think about Queen Marie Antoinette and the plans i have for Her and I. It gives me hope.
I like to prepare myself before a dinner because i know all eyez will be on me. It makes me sexy.
I like to dance with the Devil under the Moonlight because i just can't control myself. It makes me pushy.
I like when i just don't know what to do with myself because this is my imagination. It makes me creative.
I like to paint and write @ nite because this is my Creation. It makes me full of me.
I like to think of my like a doll i can dress and undress because i'm my model. It makes me dolly.
I like to sing on my toproof after class because i'm my idol. It makes me dream.
I like to watch at my paintings and pictures on the wall because i realize the things i crossed. It turns me quite.
I like to watch at an empty wall because i realized i did not realize enough yet. It turns me nervous.
I like to shock people, they're talking about me, i"m more valuable than them. It makes me evil.
I like to express myself and enter the Burlesque. It drives me wild.

Today's my B-day and somethin's huge is approaching... i just woke up from a fuzzy dream and i just looked at the miror and saw my face... All my dreams are alive... What's next ?

Abnormally attracted to Sin

2011-02-08T15:06:00.003+01:00

U can steal him boy, U can harsh him or harass him but nothin's better than deflect him from his original way for a time with impeccable peccadillos, seduction or fatal attraction.
Once Ken tasted the apple, he wanted more. But collect fruits or discard breads is not enough. Challenges have to be set and overcome. " And if i die today, i'll be the happy phantom".
Actually, challenges are more important than rewards. The point is not focus on the solution or the way; but on the inspiration. On the first idea. Consequences are irrelevant if the preliminary choice is not interesting enough. It's all about the good time, the good guy or the good situation.
Once, Ken tried to seduce a guy, a monogamous one with a girlfriend. The closer was the girl in the house, the more delicious was the guy who run out 10 minutes later, when Ken just finished to collect the opima. Another example, screw with a student can be fun. But the game is to have it in a classroom a few minutes before class. Yes, all is about the good place at the good time. Like a new job. Ken was suddenly shit in Bkk when i had this job offer... Ken belongs to the race of angels... With a pedigree.
Praise of the vice, praise of the shadows... Impeccable peccadillos, all those little stories are such chillies in the Violet Sauce, violet color for the gay communauty in Thailand. At the same time, Ken has some personnal challenges, private revenges. He knows he's not hot or sexy, or handsome. But increasing both his self-esteem and sens of seduction, Ken often invit gorgeous men to visit him.
The Bad and the Naughty once visited the Garden and then they found Ken laid in a bed of roses under the pale Moon. First the Bad kissed him. But Good appeared who purified Ken's lips. And since then, Ken doesn't give a damn about Good and Bad. And then came Naughty who leaned to kiss Ken, slowly, smoothly, suavely. And then the kiss woke Ken up. And then they had sex. Moral came, but too late and then was so touched that she refused to interrupt. Since then, Ken has not other morality than let the things happen and enjoy every single time, abnormally attracted to sin.

Sex on 57

2011-02-02T14:56:00.004+01:00

First mentalks.

Joe - Greating from Joe krub. I look forword to meet U soon. What day is the best for U. I finish work at 5pm on Silom.
Ken - I finish quite late every day. I'm home at 9pm both on Mondays and Wednesdays. Or on weekends. But Saturday's really far.
J - When are u at home on Tuedsay ? Can i "cum" visit ? I'm not free on Wednesday.
K - 9pm as well. Late classes.
J - Wanna meet up and play a bit before bed tomorrow ?
K - Or tonite ? Up to u. You're welcome home. Send you the map on Internet.
J - Thank you but i have a dinner plan tonite. Tomorrow can blow our minds and cocks together.
K - OK. It's a date, oops, a deal. I hope you're sweet...
J - Sweet or not, you need to taste me then. Kisses.
K - Yep... c ya Mister.
... Later
J - Dancing on the roof now?
K - Prepare for dance and then dinner. Send a picture
J - Thanx for handsome picture. Are u sending for any application ? If so, i must say you're approuved to work @ my office. I'll force my boss to hire you. Handsome.
K - Want you underneath your cloths.
J - No ! You only want my mouth and lips. Right ?
K - Not only.
J - OK OK. See u tomorrow for sure. I'll be ready for the surprise na'. Send a picture
K - You're cute on this one. I'd like to join your arms.
J - So to speak. U want me to hug you. Sweet. Me too !
Ken sent a picture.
J - Umm, you definitly have a cute expressive smile. Thanx for the pictures.
K - Time to kill the lights. Have a sweet nite. send a sexy picture.
K - Good morning Sir... Did u sleep well. By the way, what color do u prefer for underwears ?
J - Thanx for the picture. Look like the perfect bedmate.
The day after... Ken sent a picture, a sketch of a selfportrait.
J - Hahaha, thanx for the stylish sketch. Very stylish man. I like white or yellow. But lately i bought 10 colors at once and love the lavender, yellow.
K - I'd like to try u on lavender... or white.
J - White for tonite mayby nothin' afterward...
K - Hahaha. I know how you can full (fool) me ! Can I have another picture of you to make my day before you make my nite ?
Joe sent a naked picture. At this time, they still didn't meet... All about fantasy. Risky.
K - Can't see your eyes. But you're hot and i'm now so hard, in class...
J - You'll see my eyes when we'll kiss. have a good day.... I'll get to my lab. I'm working on a deadly virus. Did i tell you i'm a vet ?
K - Really? Great ! Have a nice day doctor... Then Ken sent a picture and propose some wine for the nite.
J - I like white men... oops, white wine. But like many Asians, i am red after a few sips. You don't wanna kiss a WaterMelon face ?
K - No... so, we'll taste wine a next time Mr. Tengmo ( watermelon in thai)
J - Sweet thanx, sounds like we 're dating. Don't put yourself too much expectations. I am an ordinary man who has some flaws but i'm a good listener at pillow side.
K - No, no, no. I don't expect a date. Just a pleasure for togayther tonite.
J - I'll enjoy you friendship so much ! You're a funny witty guy. Not only sex that bring us together ! No date is cool but who knows what and where tonite will lead. Kiss.
K - This nite will lead u in my sheets. Perfect first travel.
J - If the nite leads us to bed bluntly, how can we make conversation about family and haistyle ? hahahah I should raise my pet-conversations ! Lol. C u @ 9?
K- Of course.
And then they had sex...
K- Goodnite handsome. Tonite, you burnt my flesh so hot ! Thank you, i like you.
J - Thank you sweetie. You are wonderful company and a hot sex mate. I like to spend more time with you. Have a good nite.
Ken sent a sweet picture.
J - Good morning sweetie. Did u sleep well? You gave me a sweet dream last nite !
Have a good day start na'. And don't work too hard. FRENCH kiss.
Ken had a very lite schedule on this day and told it to Joe.
J - How cum you finish early today ? What are you doing tonite ?
K - Nothin' special. By the way, if you desperatly need to see me today, i'll be to Silom Complex untill 5pm.
J - Desperatly is a strong word. How about "dearly missing" my friend? I can be there at 4'45 @ the basement .
K - Of course.
J - C U then.
After the tea time.
K - You're so charming.
J- Are you drunk ? hahaha. Have a good japanese class.
K -Sorry but i want u and i want u to want me too... First french lesson, " Je veux t'embrasser". ต้องจำ.
J - อะไร? English please. What are you doin' on saturday nite?
K - Perhaps you should visit me a few hours. Want you close to me... 8'15?
J - OK... 8'15 pm. No dinner i guess. Good nite and kiss babe.
The day after, Ken sent a dirrty picture.
J- Wow, you make me hard ! i'm teaching vet students now.
K - I'm happy.
J - Thanx for your hourly updated pictures and hourly face expressions. I want to take your face picture when u get spasm to complete my collection na'. Very sexy.
K - I'll be glad. I like your voice... makes me horny. I'm so tired now in class...
J - You can't be too tired without giving my french kiss. See you later. Will call you when i'll be on my way.
And then they had sex again. Joe came with his huge dick and some pastries.
K - Goodnite Joe. Sorry, my ass is not porn star enough. i'd like to sleep close to you. Thanx for the cakes.
J- Good nite hotness. You should eat more. It was a lovely nite with you.
K- You're a nice man. Smart and gentle. Quite rare nowadays...
Ok, Ken started to fall... shut you fuck up !
K - Can't wait for our first nite together. Exciting but i'm patient. Can i be your sugar guy?
At nite, Joe visited Ken who ate his ass with passion.
J - Morning Hotness. Somebody was naughty yesterday. Wanna be my top guy. Huh? Beware if empire strikes back in your hole.
K - Ken can't top but still want make u cum with his mouth.
J- You're suppose to teach now าจารย์. Don't get hard when u think of me eating your ass. Hahaha.
The day after.
K - Sawasdee krub.
J - Morning sweet. Sleep well ? Busy today ?
K- Slept like an angel. yes today's quite long. Kiss you handsome.
Then an electricy gut happened on class... sexy ?
K- Electricity cut at Empire Tower ! Scary !
J - Lit your candle with the red head... Boys and girls will thank you ! ahahahah I'm a dad house celebrating Chinez New Year one day before with all the culture and stuff...
K - Enjoy my dear. I finish soon and then cook, movie and book. I think of you.
J - Thanx dear ! Keep chatting with dad cause i won't be there tomorrow. How's your evening/dinner ?
K - Students just left. Relaxin' with jazz. hugs handsome. Send a new picture...
J - Whoa ! u're naked with the sweet... Good nite Hotness.
K - Goodmorning Sir. What could i do for you today?
J - A real naked portrait would make my day na'.
Then Ken sent a very dirrty hot picture...
J- Wow, now that u make me horny. Can i lick and suck you deep for long.... before you suck me back and taste my cum...
K - As if ! I'm not a toy !... But i like to play with your joystick.
J - I was tired and felt asleep after lunch. Silly me. Out going everyday for whole week and no gym at all. Need somebody to massage me real good na'.
K- Can I relax you tonite Sir ? Free entrance start 9pm.
J - Free entrance to ? Ur back door ? I go to gym after work today? And if i stay awake 'till 8 i may want to be entertained. But be warned i'm tired and near to collapse !
K - up to you. But i know i can make you hard and cum on my...

The end.
The point is... Joe is a very nice and sexy man. 41 yo, tall and strong. Nice ass, good kisser. Tender and caring... But...
What's next ? Who's next... Some guyz are very good and made for you. Be sure of that... You twat !

Straight right to the past, an evanescent guy

2011-01-24T11:12:00.003+01:00

The Importance of Being Earnest from Oscar Wilde was played for the 1st time a 14th of Feb. the day Ken was born. Even without green carnation, Ken tries to keep the show runnin'... It's a passion, an emotion, it's a fashion...
Being earnest, faithful and constant is pretty hard. How can u stay urself when life mold you in a different way every single time you stripe the day on your wall... How can you be the same everytime you have to turn to the right, go to the left, cross the road and take U-turns... Just play fair. And respect your vision first.
Ken's kind of guy who suffers a lot when experience makes him grown a lil'bit wiser. Because he likes the time of innocence, the time when everything was so possible and new... The first time he put the Atari games on, the first time he watched "Who's the Boss" or "Fame" ( he loves Doris and Leroy), the first time he saw Captain Harlock on TV... Forever young, he wants to be forever young... Stay in the past to tame the future... and if they try to stop you Kenny i'll call the N double ACP.

It's all about acting. "I am big. It's the pictures that got small" said the decaying superstar... Living in the past made her sick and weird for the other people's point of you. But she prefered not the see the tricky way the life usualy goes on and carry on...
Past is not a lesson because everything lies in a déjà vu, all over again... No, past is just the golden time when Ken enjoyed life and now, sometimes, a ray of light on the sunset and reflected in the mirror of a cab reminds sweet images from childhood... a late shopping reminds late parties outside in summertime when he used to play hide and seek with events. It's in the air, listen in the air, the answer is in the air... The wind comes from the past to erase the present and slay the future so violently... happy.

The Importance of Being Earnest that Ken performs everyday is a lost path to follow in order to accept the present life and deal with it. Be faithful to the childhood... constant in his evanescent acting and choices... like a kid. Better to see things and people in a brand new way everytime he can... new games every month, new book every week, new watch every "time", new guy every nite... Longtemps je me suis couché de bonne heure...
Constant in the re-invention. And what if this involve acting selfishly since Ken is really inocuous, quick temper and passionnate. "It's just a jump to the left..."
Is there another way to fight indeed ?

Frances Farmer will have her revenge on Seattle

2011-01-15T12:07:00.003+01:00

The other kind of kids, with all apologies.
This other kind of kids doesn't understand why there are doors marked "No entrance". This other kind of kids doesn't accept parks with forbidden patches of generous grass. This other kind of kids doesn't understand why illicit and unlawful things are so close to them and available. And they all reject your questions. Where did u sleep last nite ?

Here comes the time for a reaction. Evil and revolution, only an evolution. We don't give a fuck, things have to be thought with a pennyroyal tea and a piss off cake joined by the cat in a hat.
It's easy. Let these kids do what they want to do and nobody will be hurt. Everywhere, everything smells like teen spirit. Just let'em rule the world. To all the kids with heroin eyes, give a lil'piss off hope.
I've been a son, i had a dream. About a girl. She's blond, she's tall and thin. All dressed in black. She takes me to Heaven, crossin' the clouds until the infinite with a one way ticket.

I dont need any ideology, I don't have morality. The other kind of kids is building his own mythology and is writting his personnal anthology. On the radio.
My room is unsafe since i live in. My mood is megalomaniac. I just have to open the palm of my hand to catch the whole world, which i won't do since world is already mine and i spoil it.
The new kind of kids will have his revenge in Seattle. A silent one, a sleepy one. Then, nothin' will change since this revenge will only be economical submission, hope atheism and fast joy addiction. The man who's selling the world. The new kind of kids will raise again and battle for the sun to burn, armed with a loaded gun and smashing with bubblegum.
This is a prophecy my friend as frogs felt from the skies. For the new kind of kids the show must go on with decadence, falling down and loss of expectations. We don't need your education, we don't need your brain control... We're stupid enough to delibaratly brainswash ourselves. Please unsave our souls.

I had a dream. About a girl. She was blond and tall and thin... And all dressed in black... She brought me until' the end...

Shopping in the cities

2011-01-09T15:06:00.003+01:00

In Paris you're not even a shit. In London you're like a ghost. In Bkk, mostly a chore and in Tokyo a challenge. Merely philosophical but just a little, shopping in a huge city is such an experience.
Should i start with European place, Paris and London, baby you can keep... customer is treated like a miserable cockroach, not even a credit card. When you enter the circus it's just so many tamers along the Tames and weirdo scenes along the Seine that keep you in distance. Then, shopping is more a job interview that a real pleasure. Money or not, you're nothing but an unexpected cancer, a gangrene, a stichy scab. Even in basic shop... You just wanna tell the clerks "You're nothin' but a servant, my servant, and the nice shirt you wear everyday is not even yours"... Who's pathetic ?
Let's go to Bangkok where shopping is more fun even if everything is standardized. It's hard to be surprised in a good way here. No surprise with clerks' attitude as well. First, everything seems to be unavailable. Not your size, not the color. But, P'June can ask P'Fah who can ask P'Neng to check... if any they're willing to be professionnal. Anyway, most of the time the answer is the same, the fatidic "No have, sorry"... Understand, "I'm now digesting my meal, so i don't give a shit about your shirt"... But, if they're a little lazy for work, salespersons are polite... if only you consider smile as an expression of thanks. Shit, i'm cynical.
Six hours flying trip to Tokyo and you discover a total different way to sell. Extreme sophistication and extreme sophism, japanez salesclerks are prolix but efficient, polite and really careful. You buy a watch ? They offer you a seat and settle the size of a bracelet the time you prepare the money. If you need to change 3 times, they do it. You buy a wallet, they wipe it with a soft piece of cloth rag and then propose you some polish to protect the leather ( here, i degress. There's nothin' better than milk for baby skin to clean and protect the thin leather goods)... It's a very special experience to shop in Tokyo. People can say it's almost slavery but the point is it's more comfy and pleasant to open your watch packed in a round box inside a square one and discover your new best friend on a pedestal. And the smell of the leather out of thin piece of white fabric... nothin' compares to this. The result is clearly important.

Difficult to deal with the overconsumption. Temptation is everywhere. But both in Paris and Tokyo it's a real pleasure to look for the piece of you hidden inside a small shop. In Bkk, rare are the small shops. Nothin' is forbidden, eveything is wide opened. As a result, it's less exciting.
Overconsumption is not the problem but standardization. There is some kind of paradox in Bkk, such a huge place where most of the people dress in the same way. Department stores and markets propose the same outfits. Plus, the quality is not that good.
On the other side, in Tokyo it's plain to see styles are mixed but different. I noticed last summer in Paris all the ladies looked the same... H&M and other Zara superbrands, rather than make fashion more popular, only imposed limited dresscodes. Pity ! Such brands are not that popular in Tokyo... Basic are more local, and people like to fit them with expensive details. Vintage and super-chic, old idea in the USA but still the best for me.
I now remember my friend calling me shopaholic during my holidays in Tokyo. He's probably right... but i'm sure there's something deeper and deeper... I prefer long sessions and un-packed it slowly... Isn't it enough to carry on shopping ?

Happy New Years

2011-01-08T11:38:00.002+01:00

I accept to live in your world.
I accept this everlasting unfair order predicated to the white supreme domination,
I accept to win and spend money taking into account that poverty and misery of some citizen of the world are not my daily concern,
I accept to save money on banks one day.
I accept the illusion to be a master since the real slavery puts most people in chains and that makes me relieved.
I accept to sign your evil declaration of war.
I accept to win the battles as far as i'm fighting against somethin' i can see or realize or against weakest people.
I accept the slow and deaf agony of Mother Earth since i prefer the dead seasons,
I accept the falling of the planet as i accept mine. We belong together, but i'm more important,
I accept your plastic packages inside your plastic boxes inside your plastic bags since i pay for recycling.
I accept the iniquitous and wide differences between North and South as i'm a Northern in a Southern part of the planet. And to save this, i refuse to watch the horrors your show on our screens everyday.

I refuse to change your world and make it better for you and for me and i promised myself i will fight for my comfort and survival.
I do accept the establishment whatever happens, wherever it leads me, whenever my deadline.

Happy New Years...

Buy Me

2010-12-15T11:07:00.002+01:00

"Buy me". Remember all those little cakes in Alice's Adventures in Wonderlands with the "Eat me" mention ? Some clothes are the same when you look at them, there is this irresistible "Buy me" label.

Clothing is all about copy, reproduction and therefore forging and falsification. So how can i be myself if i'm dressing like common people ? Seasons, collections, tendances and trends are futile concepts and they've absolutely nothin' to deal with who i am. Actually, if there are rebels in fashion industry, most of them are evildoers, falsies and fakes. And because i am a total stranger in that world, and i really don't wanna get into, but a first grade customer and shopper, i can claim that that those fashion-makers are all usurpers and impostors. I don't talk about designers and couturiers who are artists, this is not the topic; but about this iconic stars of nothin', those tyranic publishers and other critics who spoiled artists. I don't have to wear to be someone. No need to say "fashion is out of fashion" or " fashion is what i wear but not what the other do" which is already obsolete.

"Buy me" is sewed on clothes and people together. I strongly believe than reproducible outfits fit to reproducible masses. I don't want to critice and i won't pretend i'm above this or different. I'm also to be sold in some ways. I'm not free and i really don't believe in any Liberty theory. Fashion is a message to me, clothing is not. Fashion is a visual art, and clothes have to be seen as tools, brushes, films and so. Creation is the final result, the dressed person who is a customer. But because i'm me, i don't find or express my identity with outfits. Clothes don't reveal personality but a position is a group, a mass. Clothes are only canvas, and i'm the painting inside. Most of masses are just sketches. But i envy them. They have no conscious, of course, of what they do or undo, but they're still full of hope which i lost. I'm just a hidden hieratic and hectic masterpiece. That's why i can be myself and survive among masses. Just myself enough to keep breathing.

I am definitely not fashionable. But when i'm pushing the door of a shop, i have the same feelings, expectations and curiosity as when i'm opening the doors of a museum or the pages of a book. I'm just lookin' for a brand new piece of me somewhere over the rainbow. My style is the same for ages. I don't need or want to change it buyin' the newest nicest item. I just want to buy myself.

And i'm a shopaholic.

2010 Outcome

2010-12-13T03:37:00.003+01:00

" So i went to Tokyo, i wanna be a star, i wanna be a singer, i wanna be famous, i wanna make people happy and my dreams came true". Starting a making-up with both a famous quote from bygones and plan for the future is quite tricky but... obviously irresistible. Furthermore, making-up is the time when past meets future and the second fucks the first in a present point.
There, Ken revisits the whole previous months eatin' one of the most delicious ไข่เจียว of them'all. In an old artistic way of chronological range, 2011 won't start on Jan 1st but right now. Let's get a rid of 2010. Review career, people, emotions and styles. Oh my God, this omelet is really delectable.

So, carrer is OK. Great expectations, some more plans and ideas. People are people and this is OK. Not a shadow of a new real emotion. Making-up also about men. And this is quite good. So emotional, but totally recovered from L, almost 0 tolerance tears... A few good men, two special thanx and absolutly no regret. Ken is just stressed, waitin' for the result of the traditional HIV test in a cosy bakery on Silom... About style? No many details but 2010 blossomed with silks and leathers, blacks and greys and some pinches of colors here and there. 2011 will be the heir and let's start the challenge in Tokyo next weeks.

A making-up is also the occasion to think about skills and learnings. If Ken slowed down with literature this year, he explored other places. Some personal things on class, some Personal Jesus on arts and efforts in japanese language. This is a hard language, of course, and the JLPT level 5 was easy. But Ken made stides... what an improvement ( but still ironic about the self). Thanx Miki for your last e-mail : "test was easy cake for you, Tokyo will be a real challenge..." Japanese people can be so caring sometimes...
Learning and sketching fashion and paintings. No comment please, Ken tried and he's quite pleased with some works dedicated to Vuitton or Westwood. Some sorrows, of course, about Lacroix and McQueen's death. Feb was a cruel month this year. Some leaving girls from Europ came back to the old continent. Ken definitely hates farewell parties and the next one will be terrible. But outrageous. Ken hopes.
On screens (yes, it's also time to be totally irrelevant and vain), Ugly Betty stopped as Melrose Place 2.0 did after only one season. Too bad...

But the sea of fertility won't stop the flow and will never dry. So, welcome 2011 inside of me. And let's start the year with a negative test.

Let's build a home, Innuendo

2010-12-07T04:27:00.006+01:00

The whole debate is not to buy or not to buy, expensive or cheap. Money's just a tool. If you don't have a hammer to build, you cannot make a house. Everything lies in the head and heart, and only tools can make magic happens. So let's built a house.
Shopping is inspiration. It's better no to think about what you're gonna buy before throw the seeds because life's an ironic bitch and you finally dig up unexpected harvests. Be sure to buy items you like whenever is not your aim today. Picture yourself, you want this pair of sunglasses, really, deeply, madly but you can't find the perfect one. On the other hand, there is this pair of trousers that look at you with love, truly, deeply, madly. Just a pair, a dirrty pair. You try them, for size, just to watch. If things don't fit your eyes today, other thing surely fit your legs or feet. Think about of that. Just some tools to make you comfy on your own today...
So, finally you motivated yourself so wisely today that you baught nothing. Time after time, the idea of these pants grows in your head. Then you go back to the bloody mall and... many scenarii.
First, you find the trousers and buy them. Happiness never comes alone, you also find these super-cheap Prada sunglasses 50% off today ! Perfect ending. But seriously, things never end like that.
Second scenario, at the second sight, you don't like these pants anymore. Why? Because today's another day. And if you don't like them today, you're probably like them next time you'll visit the mall. And then you realize that today you wasted time and money on cab and you feel frustrated because you didn't buy anything. Worst, you're up to buy the first thing to cum, oops, to come. And that's too bad.
Last scenario, you wanted to buy these pants but too late... there's not your size anymore or the bitch before you already baught it. You'll end your life full of regret, or at least, your day. Shit happens.
The moral is, you better take the things you like before you change your mind or they disappear... Oh please, i'm just kidding... There's no moral in that irrelevant story. Just experience made me rich; but not enough for the brand new Banlanciaga bag collection. Remember how borderline orgasmic, almost vulgar and exciting it is when you feel silks and leather shoes on your skin like his breath on you... And this is a home.

Btw, if any you found some resemblance between pants and men... this was a total coincidence.

Sky My Husband...

2010-11-04T10:33:00.003+01:00

Indeed, God acts in strange way...
Ken is a dreamer, a stupid little dreamer. In fact, it's better said he has plans... So many, so huge. And God is the puppet master Who played with Ken. But Ken is a gamer, is a gambler, as many of you already know. So, rather than stop and asking "why?"; he prefers carry on...
Ken has two main plans... and NO, malicious gossips, they dont involve Gucci or Prada this time, even if Ken treasures these little pleasures.
So, about these plans... Ken wants to fly away in Japan to get a job and he wants a bf. Last month, after a long time of sexual entertainments, Ken asked God to bring him a guy. Not too stupid, not too shy. And then He did. And then Ken was happy. Ken and the guy met for sex, of course and then they talked for 2 hours after that. It was the first time for Ken to let the guy stay a while after "work". It was good. And then they decided to meet again the nite after. And then they did. After a few times, they became closer until the day the guy had to go to Europ for a one month trip. The nite before the trip, they went dinner and conclued that their situation was quite good. And then the sex, and then the conversations. Ken waited, so kindly. Just a little kiss to a "friend".
And the guy came back with presents and Vogue issues and Ken felt happy. But after a few days, suddenly, the guy broke and washed away all the things he formerly about sex and conversation. Anyway, Ken is good at conversation and He's, euh he's not stupid. No need to evoke the bad faith of the guy. He's too handsome to be deep.
So, it's time for the tragic question "why????". No, kidding. This is my theory about Ken's destiny... He just met that guy to make him remember that his biggest plan is to go to Tokyo. And a relationship is irrelevant in this project. Rather than punish Me, euh no, me, God showed him the way like He used to do for everyone. Ken's just one in a million.
Sky my Husband... i just get the word play !

Autism...

2010-10-21T09:05:00.002+02:00

... when loneliness turns into something different from choice or rejection. Loneliness reveals special needs that no one else but Ken can provide. So, he leaves out of society and he denies all the social rules.

Ken's way to autism is not a psychic trouble. Actually, it's a personal Jesus, a freaky out of control thing and a secret ark.
Autism can be alienation and alteration. Back in the days when life was so nice and easy, childood - my juvenile - is a state of mind that strikes back from time to time to put Ken dep inside an eerie loneliness. Then, communication becomes impossible, and mere are the way to express the self. "Those are my toys, my games and my cookies"... Easy to understand why each time kiddy Ken suicidely take the risk to entrust his heart to very different guys. It's a bit challenging.
Autism can also be seclusion. "I need time, I need space, I need... me" This situation appears on holidays. It's a huge make over, a deep cleansing of the head to wash away all the stupid things Ken used to hear on work days. This autism is a total isolation. Everything is closed from heart to doors and it's time for intellectual stimulation. Reading, writing, painting, planning and so. It's a very painful moment when Ken has to tear down the darkest part of his mind. Once again, no one is welcome. Ken can speak nothin'else but violence and brutality. Words are stones to be shut and Ken needs time to sculpt them.
Autism is adoration. The perfect consequence of the previous one, but also the scarcest one. Mostly Ken is reproached to be a guy who doesn't like things when other people adore. Then, Ken becomes a total control freak - compulsive - and he spends time and money buyin', collectin' and playin'. In short, he enjoys life. On single times, sex is also a way to express himself in those moments, but only as a consumer good and men as joysticks.

Autism must be seen as a remedy to the social network as it intrudes in Ken's life. It's a painful digestion of a stomach full and sick of everything that hurt. Step by step, all that used to be an adolescent dissidence turned into a Chinese wall. Rather than keep raging against the Machines, Ken pregressively closed the doors. In this way, all the bad things stay on the stoop and under control, like junks or social mottos. Autism is a stitch when there's a pain in the arse, a "kenny" solution to deal with the world around and stay himself.

J'ai le Blou de toi...

2010-10-13T13:48:00.003+02:00

Pour copier Du Bellay je dirais que

Je ne veux développer tes théories sur les nuits bangkokiennes; "loin des soirées belles à Sienne" , mais je les partage.
Je ne veux empirer les choses, mais je comprends ton ennui.
Je ne veux paraître triste, mais...
..." Et les Muses de moi, comme étranges, s'enfuient"...

Je ne sais pas si on ne s'aime pas assez... ou si, tout simplement, la médiocrité avoisinante nous étouffe au point, pour mon cas, de nous infecter. Je veux dire que "Hélas ce mépris de Fortune" et pardonne-moi de citer les poètes renaissants, fait de moi une personne arrachée entre le dégoût certain pour la masse des autres et un dégoût pour moi-même qui, nombrildumondeseument, n'arrive pas à les surpasser; ces autres.
Ainsi donc, je m'aime. Mais je me déteste de ne rien pouvoir réaliser. J'ai longtemps cru que faire et créer des choses me donnerait la fierté de vivre. Publier un livre, obtenir 3 diplômes universitaires, "challenger" l'amour en tissant des relations avec un étranger, un malade ou un gamin égoïste... Mais c'est faux. D'où mon amour pour les morts, et les plus sombres si possibles... Oh Gloire. Oh Mishima et autres démons... Heureux qui comme Ulysse a fait un beau voyage...
Oui mais voilà, la fuite n'est rien... un beau voyage, mon cul... On voyage sur soi-même et "La première fois que Mathieu rencontra Mathieu, il le trouva franchement laid"... jusqu'au happy-end...

Au passage, pas de "h" à litanie... j'envoie valser toutes ces prières... toutes ces formules magiques... et "au Diable nos adieux", comme dirait l'autre...
Je ne pense pas qu'on s'aime pas... mais le fait, pour moi, de n'aimer rien d'autre qu'une poussière d'humanité fait que je me sens prêt à tous les sacrifices pour un homme. "Et si c'est un homme, si c'est cet homme, lui parler d'amour à volonté; d'amour à volonté".
Tu sais, on a pas besoin de se comparer à la misère des autres pour se sentir mieux... C'est lâche. Plus que tout, ne pas faire face à ses propres démons c'est ça la lâcheté, et non ne pas oser aider un enfant qui mendie ou vend son corps dans les rues...

Quant à toi, tu referas un week-end romantique avec ton capitaine Haddock. D'abord, parce qu'il doit virer son regard de chien battu - et au passage rappelle-lui que je le trouve canon et qu'il a un beau cul. Et puis il faut profiter de la vie comme si demain tu le voyais plus et que tu avais une offre en or au pays des pizzas et que le Caravage tu proposais la pire des infamies... à accepter, bien entendu.

Refus de lâcher prise, dis-tu. Volonté de maîtriser ce qu'il se passe... Oui, c'est assez vrai.
Me concernant, "me, myself and I", c'est plutôt une protection. Me protéger des autres en contrôlant l'animal asocial en moi dans l'animal instant qui m'anime.
Tu dis que l'Enfer est pavé de bonnes intentions... je peux "poncifer" à mon tour, clamant que l'enfer c'est les autres. Car "s'il était quand je l'eus de grosseur raisonnable" mon amour pour les autres n'est pas plus gros, désormais, qu'une noix.
Si je me sens responsable de mon auto-anéantissement, et j'entends par là vouloir me détruire plutôt que de subir les outrages de l'existence, alors je dois confesser que les autres m'aident dans mon chemin de croix à satisfaire ce dégoût du quotidien.
En clair, je n'aime pas manger, je n'aime pas baiser, je n'aime pas sourire. Voilà bien une chose que je rends publique mais que, bientôt, je devrai regretter; surtout si Mathieu lit ces lignes - car, oh oui, elles seront partiellement rendues publiques.
Mais comme le chante Frédéric François, " Laisse moi vivre ma vie!!!!!!!"

Alors fais-toi une place dans ta vie. Que tu t'aimes ou pas, fais-toi une place.
Tu es la seule personne à valoir le coup...

Take care na'
Mat"

The Peter Pan syndrom revisited

2010-09-30T14:41:00.003+02:00

A shoot of "Goonies" philosophy, a pinch of "Never Ending" stories and stop before the last scene of the "Breakfast Club" and...
When Ken grew up on the 80's, he forgot to grew old. Thinking too early that adults were all stupid then the young people, first classmate then teacher, mostly misunderstanding all of them, Ken decided to build his own bubble in between; somewhere inside their society but not really among them; not better or worst but personnal, which is often criticised by both adults and youngest.
Peter Pan syndrom needs to be redifined. If Ken really enjoys kiddy life is, of course, because it makes him more comfy and free in his life. He looks @ everything and everyone with the fresh eye of a new born. But it's not a disease, not a mutiny, Ken doesn't express himself to be different - exit the passive agressive provocative - it's just him against the world as they see him and not as it is in real. It's not a war declaration... Ken doesn't want to fight for him against them, he knows he'll loose and he hates this. Ken is mature in his way, but still a kid. 'Cause he can do things by himself, takes his own decisions, deal with the consequences... and so. But it's easier with candies and video games.
The modern Peter Pan is not a renegade or an outsider. He belongs to the society and doesn't really it to change. Because, simply, he doesn't give a fuck. Everything's perfect like this. Et tout est pour le mieux dans le meilleur des mondes possibles. He has friends and fiends, funs and furs and fings to do... But many and varied ones, opposed in some ways. The modern Peter Pan succeeded to tame life with no compromises but inner balance. Try to make him abandon what he likes and finally you'll hate and leave him... Ken is a teacher but he teaches adults and treat them like kids. He's also a student and like being a brat in class from time to time. He likes to be exposed because home is a nest. Last nite mom told Ken did not like easy life and easy things. She's right, actually.
The modern Peter Pan has many weapons. Don't you see him carrying a bag everyday ? Even Mary Poppins, this poor bitch, is jealous. This bag is a treasure and Ken uses to say this bag contains his whole life. At home, it's better to drink orange juice in a 500 thai baths glass rather than in a plastic cup. It's better to play-station only wearing some drops of Guerlain naked on pillows and sipping vodka with strawberries marshmallow candies inside. And...
Adults sell childish dreams and kidz ruin adults hopes. So, the Peter Pan syndrom needs to be revisited. The kid is on the wall; he doesn't need medication or education, freed from control. He also refuses homeworks but DaftPunk ones, no homeworks but 宿題 he enjoys to do, secretly, deep inside... Full of expectations and never satisfy, enough is not enough, the modern Peter Pan just can't get enough...
Rather than stay in the time of child pure but infertile innocence, modern Peter Pan syndrom is the way Ken likes to lead his own life. This is a Never Ending Story.

During this post, Ken was listening 80's american pop standards and talking about sex with mister Oak.

S'il vous plaît, dessine-moi un mouton

2010-09-26T15:35:00.002+02:00

Les contes philosophiques, on le sait, c'est chiant. Lire 140 pages d'un mec qui veut découvrir le monde mais qui passe son temps à fuir par couardise et au final, épouser une gueuse, ça fait pas bander... M'enfin... Deux types qui discutent couleur de peau et civilo-civilisation autour d'une table le soir à la chandelle, ça vend pas du rêve. Pourtant...
C'est l'histoire d'un mec, d'un môme, d'une fleur et d'un renard. Un truc de gosses, donc, un genre de conte de fée, mais... pour petit garçon. La morale n'est pas de faire du lecteur une bonne épouse soumise et féconde, non, il ne s'agit pas de grimer de vieilles l'oies conjugales... C'est seulement et humblement l'histoire d'un mec que la vie a chié au milieu de nulle part et qui croise une personne paumée, tout autant que lui, et qui est incapable de toute relation humaine. Et cette personne, jeune mais bourrée d'expériences douloureuses, de lui arracher des douleurs profondes et des larmes opimes. Non, non, je parle pas de mon ancien amour avec Louis... non, non, c'est bien le conte à dormir debout d'un gamin paumé et d'un adulte à la dérive. En avion, mais à la dérive quand même.
Bien sûr, le môme, il en a croisé des hommes dans sa vie, avant le parachuté. Des plus vieux, des plus cons... Pis le parachuté est tombé à pic. Il a essayé d'apprivoisé un renard qui demandait que ça, mais qui savait pas comment. Il a choisi de rester dans son petit univers, porte ouverte sur la totalité d'un univers en boîte.
Ce conte, c'est l'histoire d'une personne perdue, qui rencontre une autre personne perdue au creux d'une nuit sans fin et qui finit par en être abandonnée. La morale c'est qu'on atterrit tout seul sur des dunes sans fin, qu'on le reste malgré nos luttes infinies et que personne ne nous comprend vraiment parce qu'on ne le veut pas vraiment. Et dans tout ça, on aime. On fait des rencontres et on appelle chaque claque dans la gueule une "expérience". Mais ça nous fait détester les autres encore plus.
Qu'on ne m'accuse plus jamais de vivre dans ma bulle, qu'on ne m'interdise pas de regarder le coucher de soleil en tout lieu où mon paysage se trouve. J'aime la courbe de mon coeur, parce qu'elle m'offre une fin de partie infinie.
S'il vous plaît, dessine-moi un mouton...

Strange Little Houses

2010-09-26T11:31:00.003+02:00

In a huge city, there are places to be, other to be seen and last ones to avoid. Un-social Ken also likes strange little houses for a cosy corny lunch or a sleepy tiny break in Bangkok. The point is you have to enjoy as often as U can because everythin's moving so fast here and closes so quickly.

SalaaDeng located Peony ( see the pictures ) is a charming placed called itself "teafé". This place is also an art gallery, so naive. In a phoney dated "roses anglaises" atmosphere, the dircreet team kindly welcome you. First good thing, they never stay all around you during your rest. Cosy nook, tables of heavy wood and flowers printed pillows and sofas, Peony offers a simple continental breakfast oriented menu. Cheap but not cheap. Calm mood lulled you with famous covers of american standards in a bossa-nova - lift sound - music so "à la mode" nowadays in Bkk. It's all about peonies and carnations, stains of pinks and other chiffons. English summer rain seems to last for ages.
Head to Ari soi 5, Puritan is also a nice place to rest. Nothin' s sophisticated but widely barocco, this pastry "à la française" house propose a fusion cuisine. Don't hesitate to order for a tex-mex-thai tacos or a mixed apples and nuts salad. Deep into to mood, no loud music, but the voices of the lazy sunday-ish visitors in a comfy heavy second hand furnitures of leather or antic materials. The place is a messy but clean topsy-turvy bazaar where european sculptures deal with old erotic chinese pictures of the last 20's. The staff is the cutest on earth. The bad point is that Puritan is very difficult to find; a treasure hidden in a island of roads and smoke. Once opened, it reveals the phoney richness; portraits, carpets and magnets, apple pies " à la mode". It's a old house, with garden and darkened by huge and massive trees.
Perfect places when Ken wants be alone but not lonely, these strange little houses allowed a good time to finish a book, listen music before another class, a date or a cab ride across the Siamese capital.

Megalomania

2010-09-16T13:33:00.006+02:00

I would like, if i may, introduce myself in the exciting world of... me. I was born on a Feb. 14th, in a crossfire of hurricane, under a pouring rain, somewhere over a rainbow. The first day, under the ray of light, trumpets sang my Great Awakening. Surgeon's scissors clapped my birth with their blades and then stripped off my virtue. I knew some gods were invited. Dyonisos came first, touched me with Art, Beauty and Cabotinage, the ABC of life. Then; Osiris, IAO, arrived and tought me the origin of love. The last, but not the least was Adam, the Earth and the goddest of them all because a simple man. He awared me against the forbidden things so wisely that now i cannot stop myself yield to the best things on earth. So, i was born in a Middle of Nowhere, some East part of Eden.

I grew old reigned as a King on my toys and dolls. They made up my mind every single day and i shone for them to live. Childhood passed and i got my halo.
Then, came the tempest. Long was the road out of Hell, there were not 7 but 15 nights in this forest pitch dark where knowledges and sciences are for ever severely kept by a stupid army of happy few. In each battle i snatched a victory and; day by day, i designed my destiny. My Rome was not built in a day. Deep inside, everything combined to bring my own glory. Each time i foiled evil traps, i won a brand new braid made of silver and glitters.
And then, my mind flied to the skies like the smoke of a cigaret, thin, light and evaporated.

A long travel; i got my wings. Fly away far from me, i just found myself. So high, so high, i opened my eyes. And i realized my Greatness lied in my decadence. And i started to burn my halo and wings. And i began to put some make up on my shame, some wig on their blame, and i fancied my name.
Now, here lies my fame. This is my (r)evolution. I needed a resolution. I had a reservation. I reserve, i deserve.

During that post, Ken listened to Balavoine " Le Chanteur" and " Vivre ou survivre"...

From a.m. to p.m.

2010-09-06T05:04:00.004+02:00

9 am. Wake up in the early morning, Say hi... It's Monday, Ken is off... What can happen in the other City of Angels ? Today's program ? Huge. 11 am. Start with a breakfast @ *buck's, Peanut, butter and jelly...
Then let's head to Siam for a sweet time of urban poetry, the French, English and American issues of Vogue. 2 pm. It takes time. And It's so amazing.
Some shopping, images and raw flashes of department' cold neons and another coffee break. 4 pm. Few dayz before, Ken recieved an invitation for a Chanel catwalk. Just one call to grab a plus one and let's go for some minutes of fashion show. Many people there. Ken is not the kind who exposes himself but he thinks " I'm really good and it's plain to see When U look @ me"... Show is over. 8 pm. Not to mention today skiped the japanez class...

Evening time, Deep it low. Ken is a good boy, really really good boy... Everyboy wants some fun 24 a day 7 days a week, no? 9 pm. So, let's head to Esplanade for a concert. Placebo is runnin"tonite... Pure sounds and pure evening, Ken get Twisted...
11 pm. Concert can finish but show must go on, so let's get loud... And choose some other place. Cocktail time, Ken enjoys top roofs and grab a cab with fellas to the Nest on Sukhumwit. Nobody can says one nite in Bkk is not enough... It just can change your vision of L.O.V.E. But it's not the point here. Hights make Ken thinks about sweet things. Hands on me, Oh Daddy and Hot boy... 2 am.
Ken really loves nitelife. If only sun could never wake up, especially in this scorching and blistering place. Dim all the lites and put a record on. Lyin' on a carpet or a bed outside on a terrace. Stay at home viewin'the city from the balcony. Sip a glass of vodka. Invite a man until' my cloth comes off... There's so many way to live the nite through the break of the day.
3 am, time to sleep. Ken is full of lites, shapes, skins and pictures he saw the whole day. Tomorrow, he'll teach @ 8 am, the eyes drowned in all the pretty things he likes and the head full of the next things to happen... Just a little bit more.
From a.m. to p.m. life in Bkk never stays the same... Ken like this way of live right now. Tonight.

During this post, Ken was listening... you know who. This is a special dedication to Louis... "The media talks so bad'about me".

止められない　TABOO

2010-09-02T16:48:00.005+02:00

Define "taboo". Is that thing we don't have to talk about or just somethin' you have to brave to be famous @ least during 15 warholy minutes ?
The most exciting, first of all, and because it's a pretty paradox, is to name something a taboo. Braver than live it because live a taboo is only and simply express the self and be free. Name somethin' a taboo is some act of bravery because it's a judgement, an opinion, something pushy. It's risky, but at the same time, terribly vain and dry. Call something a taboo is such a cowardise in many ways, is some act of contrition.
First, it means you refuse to understand something new or different. This is shit.
Second, this is a weaky way to refuse to see what's inside of you. Call something a taboo is an escape, far from its own desire. See " American Beauty"...
Third and last, this kind of catharsis involves you're interested enough to watch another different way of acting just to make u comfortable about yourself. And wash away your sins... and redeem for them at the same occasion... This is shame.

Because, clearly, u can't stop taboos. 止められない taboo. It's so easy and healthy to live its own passions. No need to remind Oscar Wilde, but refusing to yield to your taboos is refusing to freed from them. It's not healthy.
The most shocking people are those who don't express any taboo... because they don't express anything creative, innovative, new or personnal. In short, they don't create anything. It's a crime.
Define taboo, 止められない taboo, is just a gift, a lift and swift.

Can make U happy

2010-09-01T17:16:00.003+02:00

I surely plan to much,
acting like a butch,
club one of them into rich
or treat this one like a bitch.
Can't make U happy.

I did drive them crazy
and turned some things risky.
I wrote some line - fishy.
I loved them but... Deeply
I can't make them happy.

I will send you flowerz,
Will give you more power
and be your alien sex fiend
and blow your mind... Clearly
I can't make U happy.

When U'll crown me your king
and give a ring,
then U'll art me and pet me
and lemme be...
I can't make U happy.

Happy anniversary; socialize myself !

2010-08-26T14:34:00.003+02:00

Happy anniversary Ken. One year ago, U did your real first steps into the bangkokian social life. For one year, Ken, u're doing things on your own, on your will. And you do them better. Lost in the huge siamese pandemonium of noise and souls, it's plain to see you changed. U've come from a long way babe, congrats.
The plot ? Everything starts with the MOST saddest heart on Earth. After a few weeks of drastic social quarantine, Ken decides to put himself to the test. Socialisation is acceptation. First encounters were only bedtime stories, featuring the Girl with the Hermès scarf as the "Diva". Then arrived a new colleague and fella. Introducing the Tall Girl aka the "Forever late Girl" in the season 2, the main character met many new people -mostly european girls but not only- which opened his eyes. Facebook turned from 80 contacts to 40, which is a very good sign. Socialisation is contradiction.
Contradiction is the kind of socialisation Ken opted. The more u fuck, the more u want to; the more u socialize, the less u get attached. So, the best way is to focus on the good people. Socialisation is selection. There, dialogues must be short but incisive, a few good quotes for a few good minds. No irrelevant allowed.
Ken also opened himself to some students. In bed first, then for dinners and shopping dates. During the season appeared the singlish style as "Brenda". The second season was struck by some special featurings and episodes like 'Voyage à Tokyo", "Catwalk @ Chanel" or "Placebo Effect"... Must watch. Socialisation is education.
The new 3rd season is radicaly sartorial. Featuring outfits and accessories more than brand new people, Ken plans to change the script because routine kills his own audience. Less speeches, more labels for love, the current season must be seen like a magazine. The 2010-2011 issue.
Socialisation is radicalisation. Be yourself, but don't stay the same. Ken on the Multiply... and re-invent his universe. Because, accepting socialisation is only interesting if u're the center of the universe... at least, your own. Ken is definitely not a featuring, but the urban hero.
Socialisation is celebration. Stay tuned, it's showtime !

Kid of the 80's

2010-08-24T14:44:00.004+02:00

Glory of the 80's; like this blond chick who sang "Bette Davis Eyes". I am a kid of the 80's, "nothin' but a body with a voice. No mind"...
Kid from America, my whole childhood was influenced by american mass-culture. Now i know how much this era moulded me. On TV, on the radio, on movie and - believe me ot not, even on Fashion. Isn't it obvious i am the kind who dress like in the 80's.?.. I'm a "Breakfast club" kid, a "Goonie" and what's good enough for you, is good enough for me. Some shocks, here and there, Angela Bower's outfits of shoulders straps and Tony Micelli's ass in "Who's the Boss?" still remain in my mind.
Although i prefer dancin' alone in the light, 80's made me wanna dance with somebody. For a huge while, i didn't understand the lyrics and messages. 70's went wrong, future exists. 80's were gloomyly sad and still deadly attractive. Mostly, they remind me END. End of fun, end of color, end of hope. But still there's a future. This time introduced a dead future, a Mad Max vision in a sorta Terminator way. Later, 90's tried in vain to bring back to life and renew the mass-culture, but everythin' was just a whiter copy of the older times. No "Fame", no shame remember my name. 80's understood and taught us that everythin' is in its right p(a)lace; for God or Mad.
80's also build me as a man, not only because i grew in this holy era, but also because they told me how to accept end first. End of life in that time where AIDS use to kill "only gays", end of fun; dim all the starz of flesh and art like Andy, Jean Michel and Keith. THE END of the cinema (not dead, just finished). "Black Rain", big in Japan, "Wall Street"; chequered love, "Trading Places" and so... made my days.
I belong to these 80's because they decide to end themselves rather than die with so much ado about nothin'. C'est la vie. Too much fun, to much life, to much communication. Enjoy the silence. All today's disasters are just copycats of the catastrophic epidemics of the 80's. All i keep from them today; it's i must gamble every single day, dress me up in my love until' i just can't get enough. 80's gave me the epitome of who i am and who i'll be, which involves i am a glory of the 80's.

Past < FUTURE

2010-08-10T06:51:00.005+02:00

A few years ago, a famous French author wrote about all the little pleasures daily life can bring, hidden in many details or insignificant actions. This man used to link all these precious things to childhood, nest of the Golden Age.
Rather than a poetic rebirth or glam revival, i do believe that all the daily pleasures make me happy because they have a deep influence on my future. They make my day, because today is tomorrow, not yesterday. Even English grammar tells wrong. The day is in the future, not in the past. And a 'Madeleine' is only a cupcake, and his meaning is now 'delicious' and tomorrow 'regret to get fat'.

Shaving, for example. It's a very exquisit moment. Not only because i'll get fresher with the mint cream, but also because after that, i turn into an handsome creature, with an engraved face, as smooth and white as a marble tile. Beard is not a tribute to my grandfather nor a remember of my childhood. I don't believe in Santa Claus anymore and i prefer sugar daddies hair. Not mine.
A brand new outfit, especialy a vintage one, is not back-in-the-dayz-when-i-was-a-teenager because, obviously, i was ugly and invisible. This new shiny armor i can match with somethin' new to be my next best thing, for all tomorrow's party. We all know the recipe for a perfect wedding after all; somethin' borrowed, somethin' new (no, i don't wear blue, ok?)... They match.
And i won"t talk about the pleasure to spend money everytime i can for some precious 'bea-utility'. Read the girl with the green scarf for that.

So, let's back to the future. Everythin' i do now only helps for tomorrow. I don't forget the past, it made me who i am. But it's vain to be so close to it. The only thing past reveals it's that nothin's done yet. Punk is not dead , not either the Olympian gods. They only learn to catch the future and re-invent themselves. I'm sorry, i'm gonna be late. Tomorrow is just another past day...

Love is the enemy

2010-07-22T14:09:00.003+02:00

Summer time, blessin' time, enchanted time.
"Blossom nipples freshly naked, skin that shows here & there, flesh that shines in patches, rude boyz pon the replay and don't stop the music". There goes the bridge of the seasons. Summer time, every guy can pretend to be. Tonite, imma let u be the captain. This is a definition of summer guyz for Ken.

Sex is not the enemy. Even if... Experience made Ken so rich and doubtful about his own skill for love & sex with the same man. Although his love shines an eternal flame, fires of passion decay step by step, day by day.
First, Ken thaught the problem was his own pleasure zones and because he was not comfy with himself. Illusion. Yoyo-Ken knows it's not because of some numbers written on the scale. Each time, relationship turns Ken into a real teddy bear, a mix of a fa(mo)ther and a marshmallow. And then desires disappear. Tragic kingdom. Even now, a simple encounter with a young man changes Ken in a huge-pinky-chewy-creamy Barbapapa... Pathetic, chay may?

Love is the enemy. Ken cannot match sex and love right now. Which one sacrifice ? He's ready for crucify sex in the name of love, he already stopped sex for almost 3 years a decade ago. But what about his partner ? Will he really be ready to abandon flesh ?
Abandon love for sex ? The easier way to go. But is it the definition of happiness? Anyway, sooner or later, we all sleep alone !
This is a shitty status quo. Right now, Ken has no answer. He just enjoys the moment, remember some good times, wondering what next will happen.
What else ? Another oldie but goodie, like for a video game, each time, Ken grows tired of the body and sex of the man he loves. It's dramatic, isn't hit ? Seriously, it's very painful when u love someone you don't desire anymore... Yes Miki, Yes Louis... so pathetic.
Even if Ken always love his partner more than his own flesh and soul, love is the real enemy...

Notorious D.I.C.K.

2010-07-14T21:38:00.002+02:00

Sexy city, sexy Paris.

Fed up w/ politicaly correct, i was happy to visit my friends in Paris. I'm not afraid of who i am, and yes, i need to share experiences with my friends. Of course, we talked about sex... and yes "I fuck, i fuck, i fuuuuuuuck"

They said i changed since i'm livin' in Bkk... I just opened the doors. I needed time, but since i'm very handsome, i'm ready for more. Mister R. & I finally have many things in common. Both of us are real fans of "Melrose Place" but there's more. He's already done treesome i wanna try, but i was glad to hear i was in the good way and positive thinkin'about organization. Furthermore, we had a serious and exciting conversation about ass licking and we both noticed we liked this. Bitchy R. gave me some good advices about new positions i should try. I am so curious.

Miss E. expressed how much she needed sex with her gfriend and how difficult is to live w/ someone who doesn't really need or like sex. I just can listen to her, and i'm really concern about her situation.

Mister H. and i talked about escort boyz he has in Paris. I also invited him to visit me in Bkk. I have some job to do for him, find some information about fees and organization in the siamese capital.

They say Paris is a city for romance, but i see the place like a huge bed swept by a sexual healing. Lyin' in the 'Jardin du Luxembourg' or crossin' the 'Rue du Bac', each place is a secret garden.

I really like the guyz here, the way they walk. Different styles, different aims. Teddiez, muscles, thin-nyz, or average. The look in their eyez. Jaws, arms, ass, voices and legs. "Young, rich & dangerous"...

All these conversations put me to the top, and i put a spell on me. My trial is to find a guy before i leave France next Monday. And I found one for Sat.

"Hey, what did u expect?"

In bed with...

2010-05-25T19:11:00.002+02:00

What's my bed in Bangkok ?

Successively a nest, a library, and so, my bed slowly became a ... a what ?
I can't say my bed is now a symbol, but it's more than a place to sleep or fuck. It's a real shield.
Some people asked me why i didn't move when L. Left.
First, of course, i wasn't strong enough to pack and start again.
Time went by, and i discovered that my sheets were made for two. But feelin' some other guy breathing close to me after fun, this disgusted me. This bed became a comfy compromise between desires and sweet pictures of the past.
It's clearly a protection. I mean, my bed is a condom against love. Men come but don't sleep. This bed is now made for stupid things. I keep the bed to remind me not to fall in love anymore. Like a dog in the frontdoor of the garden. And if any a guy stays there, it's the start for a decay of passion. I just changed the sheets because, seriously, i really cant' have sex in a Doraemon printed set.

I didn't even try to change my side to sleep. About my past, i only can answer with the future. About my love, i only can answer with the future lovers. About sweet talks on the pillows, i only can aswer with harsh words whispered in the ears. Some magic spells and psaulms i chant @ nite.
I just think i follow the Sun right now... but i cant' clearly see it yet.

Marches and rallies : my Bangkok is burning me !

2010-05-18T06:33:00.003+02:00

Times are hard in Bangkok and Ken is on fire. How define the feeling on this huge burnin' place ?
So, get into the groove.

First Act. Tuesday evening, canceling class. OMG, big time sensuality... เร็ว, เร็ว, Ken has to leave the school before everythin's happen. Grab a cab, เลี้ยวขวา, go straight and run away... 6pm in the city, God dims all the lites... but not the stars... Burnin' times, open the doors and the show begins. It was on March ( oh, gods thou shoult act in such ironic ways!) 23rd @ Siam Paragon : Ken saw his first Chanel "défilé de prêt-à-porter". in the Siamese capital.
Who said fashion don't deserve a few minutes of rally ?

Act Second. Another " March Attack " 3 days before. Saturday evening, in a land of No-stars but a few stupid korean bands, fellas & Ken had some tickets to ride. 2010 is a really the best vintage-year in Bangkok for Ken. This Sat. 20th Placebo offered him a great rock show @ Esplanade, THE place to be... and Ken felt like he was eaten alive.
Who said rock'n'roll don't deserve a few hours of rally ?

"I find Beauty in the grotesque, like most artists. I have to force people to look @ things"
A. McQueen

'I am nothin' but a body with a voice. No mind !"
B. Davis, "All about Eve".

"Times are shocking me, they have no respect for me"
Ken.

3

2010-05-16T11:00:00.003+02:00

1. Where you come from ?
2. What R U doin' here ?
3. Can i stay tonite ?

This is the 'ouverture' of each erotic opera played in Bangkok... as usual as a simple "hello", the 1,2, 3 situation is like a chorus everytime a guy comes home. Sometimes they live far, sometimes they're rilley tired, sometimes they're lazy... so much ado about nothin'... They say Ken is crazy, but he don't give a damn... he don't want'em stay in his bed, he don't want'em stay close to him when he can't sleep, deep in the nite...
1,2,3... the situation should be more exciting if they spoke more about biology. Ken don't even wanna know why they want to stay... and speak, speak, speak... Guyz are welcome, get naked, breath on me, they can tease Ken on the msn or a phonography online, and get a ticket to ride. Ken wants the whole of them... Mmm papi. But, OMG, he don't want any confession on the pillow... The day after, he forgets everything... feel like he lives in a dream and in a mellow smoggy amnesia morning souvenir.

Ken likes guyz bringin'him on bed, for the be(a)st and the worst. He loves watch'em play with him for hours... on the radar. Sleepless moments to be shared in his sheets. Awaken dreams to share. Enter the circus, put off your lace and leather. But, bring'em back home after the show.
Just now, Ken looks for the unusual you, the guy who'll be able to change the number 3. The real Toy soldier up to start with a sweet sweet fantasy... some unusual quotes and kind of magic. A guy who can rock me in, with outrageous lyrics and real...
Ken is not a heart for sale...

State of Independance

2010-05-08T14:03:00.002+02:00

I put my finger on the trigger, and
I put the spell on me.
I'd like to express my extreme point of view, and i'd like u understand.
I need space, I need time... I need me.
After those few famous quotes, i would like, if i may, declare my State of Independance.

I'm not one of your circle, i don't belong to any group and i'm not from your tribe. I'm not chain to the exclusive and ultra-self-centred French communauty of Bangkok. I'm simply free and i prefer choose when and in which circumstances.
I'm not a Citizen of the world, i don't give a shit about this. I'm not into caring or peting people.
I'm totally faithful in my own comfort zone. I do have friends and family, but I'm far from them. I had to learn to be myself without'em.

I'm not one of your circle, i don't belong to any group. I'm not in love with him or devoted to this one.
I do apreciate a dinner with my fellows and chicks and i know apreciate another one with totally unknown people i met, my students or mysterious guyz, and especialy in Bangkok.
I have no commitments with nobody here, I owe nothin' to nobody here, I want to be me and i am multiple, I want to be a Master of Disguise. I rilley am myself since i can be "we".

I'm free to refuse invitations since people refuse mine or because i feel uncomfy with you. I'm free to stop seeing anyone who's drivin' me boring. I'm free to say "yes" then "no" because i'm tired. And since i'm all alone in my love life, i'm free to list my lovers from A to Z.

I won't suffer any whimsical attitude and I won't accept any guilt trip. I want my fellows to accept that and understand i need my freedom and my own resolutions. I want to follow myself and my heart will go on (oops...). I won't participate in any masquerade you create to make your world better if i'm not really into. I'm probably less selfish than you are, even if...
I can trust people, but i first have Faith in me and in what i accomplish.
I'm free to be so politically improper. I am polite outside, but not clean and not polish inside.

"This is who i am,
U can like it or not"
555

Sexcrimes

2010-04-21T16:14:00.002+02:00

Classic, he keeps his socks, he doesnt' wear undies or -worst - large and colored trunks, he can't kiss, he speaks to much, he ... all these classic things, these eternally analyzed things...
Let's talk about self-experience and let's see what should be a modern "Sexcrime"...

Once, Ken had a date with a guy he met on the Internet... Good pictures, man attitudes, easy but weel-aimed words... Spoke in tongue...
It was enough for Ken to follow his instinct... So they met in real, one shiny day of i-don't-remember-which-season, had a lunch @ the guy ( let's call him Bundy). Very nice (' cause Ken also like nice intentions before games), Bundy picked him home...
What a surprise when Ken discovered how SuperMan turned into one of the 7 dwarves... Anyway, the pictures didn't lie... they just show the shadow and the line of a real lover. So... no way to go back... Ken jumped on the car...
Cooking time ! When Ken was cooking, Bundy said nothin' but just looked @ him with a strange empty gleam in his eyes. Not even a sexy look, not a lil'glass of wine. Nothin' but... nothing.
Happy meal finished, Bundy drove Ken to the ... Living-room (not the bedroom...) for a "nap" boring time, talkin'about nothin'...
-Some music ?
-Yes... Ah Celine Dion... Euh, let's talk louder ! (Impossible, of course... La Dion was shouting)
So, after an interesting conversation about family and job (Bundy sold flowerpots... ), after some kisses (the promises were so... promises... and so they stayed), Bundy - God bless - acted like a rough male... and drove Ken to the bedroom...
Ken was lyin' on the bed when Bundy started to cuddle and caress him... and Ken turned to look @ Bundy and discovered... A wall full of Seashells ! And then Bundy started to explain the story of each shell. Where he found it, the name, the size and so...

Sexcrime and the death sentence is the word !

Stay Tuned

2010-04-14T17:55:00.003+02:00

Do you rilly want to hurt me, and do you rilly want to make me cry ?
Because tonite's the nite i want more... so Gimme more...

A long long time ago, Ken was a young lonesome cowboy... After class, everyday week day around 7'30pm, from 1992 to 1999, he put the TV on to watch THE show... the beloved MELROSE PLACE... During many seasons, he rilly was into the program as if Amanda and so lived with him...
More, with his bestf riend, he found a place in the town they studied that reminded'em the famous 4616 cosy square. They used to count the university years like seasons fulled of friends & foes... and gave' each other nicknames from the heroes... But hush hush, this is such a shame !

The plots, the lifes and loves of a group of young adults around a swimming-pool and dealin' with sex, love, death and money... "Money, success, fame, glamour"... U know the song, Club Kidz !
After 7 years of rilly well-done stories and dramas... the show stopped, Amanda and Peter on an island, Lexi alone in the beach, Michael too, Cooper left, Megan happy and so...
No more analyze, but Ken felt very exciting everytime the show started... He put the music on his first cell phone as a ringtone and collected some magazines.
Ken can remember how hitchcockian many episodes were when Jane semt to be double or a premeditary murderer, when secrets were revealed and things turned into a very bad ending.
The show stopped a few years...
But on 2009, Great Re-opening... New staff, but not completly... Once again Amanda came to save the series... How adorable was Sammy-Joe in Dynasty, how bitchy she's in MP... This time, things started strongly and roughly. More sex, drugs and rock'n roll, more sexy, naughty, bitchy... Gigantic turn of events, Sydney was not dead and then the show carried on... Dramatic turn of events, Amanda re-appear to steal such a mysterious painting... Around this revival, new characters w/ their own problems.
Ken had a crush for Violet ( Syd's psychotic daughter) and Ella ( see the picture), sorta kinda Amanda Woodward... more fresh and more... everythin'...
But this time, the receipe failed and it seems there won't be another season... We stop so, with Amanda in jail, Michael almost sue and the newbies in the mood of love... So, nothin' changed... but an endless end this time !

Ken wishes MP 2.0 continue this next Fall. So please, sign the petition against the cancellation !
http://www.petitionspot.com/petitions/saveMP

PS : during the post, Ken was listening Metro Aera...
PPS : very special thought to "UGLY BETTY". Season 4 is also the burial of the serie... So bad :(

Pagan Poetry

2010-03-30T17:43:00.003+02:00

Turn the lites off,
Close the curtains.
Here comes the terrible April
With the shootin' stars and the ill
The saddest month, the bad April
No spring on the Hill.

Turn the lites off,
Close the curtains.
Then come the men
Their love is vain
Then comes the man
He's all villain.
Turn the lites off
Close the curtains.
And the regret
Never forget.

The Queen on her throne,
All dressed in red.
Prince of my kingdom,
I'm so afraid.
You're all i made,
And all i paid.
Then will come times,
bitter as limes,
When i shall throw
And you will go.

And then we'll meet,
And all forget,
All the regret.
Then here i'll wait
For you, Poet.
And i love you
And i miss you.
คิดถึงคุณทุกวัน

Turn the lites off,
Close the curtain.
The show is off,
I've been waitin' in vain.

Togayther in electric dream

2010-03-16T16:58:00.002+01:00

Urban legends. Love also deals with urban legends : love @ the first sight, desperatly in love, love call, one-way love... and so. She's a gay-addicted girl, He's an unknown gay boy, and so...

Togayther in electric dream, technologic connection was the way we started to love each others... Time passed and we met, and stayed tuned in an electric dream...

F***, i promised myself not to talk about us when i started this post. Once again. I can't do anythin' now...

***

No, i don't want to talk about love, but sex. Sexy, sexy, sexy him. Nothin', nothin', nothin' me.
We meet sometimes, far away from each other. France and Thailand.
This is my urban legend. Everytime we meet, i can feel that i like your smile, and i love your all. Then start the fight "U're so handsome", " No i'm not", " Yes you are"... and so. Of course, he's a love call, a love @ the first sight, and one-way love... But i'm still addicted. You're my urban legend, the picture of the man i'd like to be (with)... Strong, comfortable, dark and cruel beauty like the old legends...

Hopelessly devoted to your body, urgently devoted to your booty... Put the cam on, i put my head off. U smile, i cry. U show yourself, i hide my eyes... and i like that... I wanna see. " I know you, i know your name"...

You're my urban nasty legend of a man who loves the star... My one-way ticket to Nowhere...

I wanna be with you, togayther in an electric dream.

Tu es si beau...

Deadline, a social love

2010-03-10T12:07:00.002+01:00

Love's unkind, unless when u like it to be like that. What kind of life should a guy deserve when everytime his choice gets involved in a magic grand affair but complicated. Me, and a gun and some men on my back...

Love is only for 3 years max', it's a pretty good gathering for Ken. Bang, bang, Ken's heart is a self-aimed revolver. At nite, sometimes the ceiling looks @ him and asks him what is all about, this short time contract.

Of course, mirror mirror repeats acid short stories are more poetic than boring long novels. But, wish the mirror once cracks from M to R.

Just Ken has to be. He has to know that the best Mr Husband for him is no one but Himself. Anyway, he knows someday the Prince will cum. So, why are u keepin' runnin'away ? Keep hold the finger on the trigger.

There's a deadline for love that Ken just can figure when it's in the air. According experience, after a foreign student, a "positive" painter and a sensitive inner bomberboy - same age, older and younger - a clearly timed first relatioship, a sicked second one and an indecent magnificent last one __ "C'est Satan Trismégiste" __ who's the next ? A wilde and lonely bullet-sailorman ?

Mais lui c'est différent,

il est né sur l'océan.
C'est un grand capitaine,

un amant monument.

The answer is, obviously, there's no answer. Otherwise, life don't really matter. Anyway, there's a deadline on the dancefloor and a shotgun on the party. Ken just keeps an eye on U. Deadline is set, and the last date is a planned last dance.

During the post, Ken was drinkin' a famous cup of joe and listenin' Camille...

ミラクル・ロマンス

2010-03-01T10:36:00.002+01:00

Once upon a time...tuned on Wednesdays...
In the morning, @ school, Ken suffered from 2 hours of boring Economics followed by 2 hours of boring History... Talkative teachers, Ken was around 17 yo and not really into studies. Last year of High', wondered about next year @ university and all about life will turn into...
Anyway, stayed tuned on Wednesday, Ken back home afterclass for the ladies.

"Magical rose... c'est une rose magique..."
Once upon a time, a long long time ago, only speaking French little boy Ken tuned everynite after boring class and boring homeworks... (He now realizes why he's a teacher, question of revenge !) First years of school and last years of naive, Ken wondered nothin' about nothin'...
Anyway, stayed tuned in the break of the day, Ken back home for the Lady...

Year after year, young ladies, on and on, waited Ken after class... Very close relationship, some kind of love, everyday, もう一度ふたりで　weekend, on and on, once again on weekend... And, OMG, pleaz, give us a happy end, 神様　かなえて　happy-end...

This is an eternal romance between you and me, and i shall never forget some good moments close to you, in the bed, the sofa... I shall never forget melodies, clamors and tinkles... The first time you appeared like a Lotte on the screen. And the first time i touched you in your warm enough glossy paper image... Shockin'colors and agressive draws... On my hands, in my bag, in class, far from the teachers.
思考回路はショート寸前. My head seemed it was exploded every 2 months when i met you at the book shop...
It started 15 years ago... Girl, you'll be a woman soon, you'll turn 20 very soon and i love you. I will always love you, Girl.

Midnite mail

2010-02-23T18:02:00.002+01:00

Pegasus is circling in the Midnite sky... Pleaz Pegasus, make my dream come true !

Moi aussi; mais au final, on se détruit que nous... et c'est le meilleure chose qu'on fera de notre bitch de vie Louis.
Je te hais pour avoir été mon rival dans la destrcution... Heureusement, ici, je contrôle rien et - sans seulement parler de sexe ou de mec - j'ai jamais aussi été bas que certains soirs...
T'es pas une pute, t'as tout à apprendre sur ça... t'es encore en apprentissage.
Toi et moi, on finira surement mal et alors ?... on s'est aimé pour ça... tu ne m'as plus aimé pour des raisons de merde et moi j'en ai eu marre de toi pour des raisons de merde.
Tu imagines que j'aurais été le seul à te détruire comme tu le mérites et tu aurais fait de même pour moi... What else... on va juste se retrouver en Enfer toi et moi... et alors ?
On mérite bien ça, chai mai ?

The show must go on...

2010-02-23T16:35:00.004+01:00

It was many years ago... la petite fée verte...
Today, @ class, Ken talked about "Moulin Rouge"... Satine. Remember, the first time he saw this movie. Of course, not a real revolution... Some deja vu... but It was on a shy sunny Sunday, on bed, in a unknown guy's place. The nite before, he had a big but soft party. Sick Sunday, Ken kept bed all day long... Watchin' Satine, "forever and ever"...
Ken really likes musical movies. Of course, U can bet he's gay so he likes this. But it's not as simple as it seems. Or it is...
Fuck, before writing this message, Ken wanted to talk about Arth... young sweety Arth... Anyway... Satine and musicals... First, came "The Chorus Line". He was young... Just remember "Surpised" he was. Then came "Grease", "Cabaret" and so...

"Dirty Dancing" was a flash in the nite of the teenage's mood...

What the definition of Ken's point of view about musical ?
Music and dance, of course... But glam and a pinch of whore vulgarity. That's why regards such a dirrrrty shame "ShowGirls" as a musical shockin' movie... And "Breakfast on Pluto" even if... But the best is the whole-sacred motions "Hedwig" and "Velvet Goldmine" that shine like stars in the skies... Ken love them all. Why ? Simply because from the first second to the last black screen he wanna cry... And he does...
What's the definition of the musical... Nothin' but a declaration... And sometimes, not a real need of music. Just a feeling, because the show must go on. Ken knows how music sounds even in a non-musical picture.... "Witches of Eastwisk" is one of them, japanez " Hush" too... and his own life too... remindin' him somethin' he hasn't live yet... remindin'him some loverboy, some star... Ken watches the stars...

Sounds of silence... even paintings and pictures are musical indeed... Nothin' really matters in this world but the Cezanne's "Modern Olympia" or the Parmeggiano "Virgin with long neck"... Musical is Ken's possibly maybe prabably life...

And the show must go on !

Joy-stick

2010-02-17T14:50:00.002+01:00

Tout est calme, tout est noir.

Dehors, les néons de la ville colorent ma peau qui se projette sur la fenêtre de mon studio. "P" vert, "E" rose, "A" bleu et "U" rouge, comme autant de triangle, de carré, de croix et de rond.

Ecran luminescent de voile blanc, voyant rouge à prendre à la lettre et qui perce mon regard. Pas un bruit mais le monologue du disque qui tourne dans sa matrice. Et déjà, les mains moites qui besognent; tu la sens douce et lisse et dure et chaude. Et déjà, ça monte en moi.

La journée durant, j'ai attendu cet instant que seul l'intimité de mes nuits autorise. L'image arrive. Les fantômes traversent l'écran, rampent et me happent. J'ai fait le choix des ombres, je la tiens - ferme - et la presse.

Plaisir et Désir (message subliminal).

Un souffle, un cri, un râle, et la lumière m'éclabousse. Je ne sais par où commencer, alors je vais de toutes parts : de bas en haut d'abord; puis je la ramène vers moi. Je suis enfin détendu. Le jeu peut démarrer.

Quelles options ai-je sinon de reprendre là où j'avais laissé la partie la veille ou d'en commencer une nouvelle... Je choisis et je charge. Lentement, je prends mon temps. Impatient et excité finalement, c'est des poignets que je joue.

Et soudain, il apparaît, le héros de mes rêves. Faiblesses et douleurs du passé, je le guide au bout de la nuit, vers la lumières. Je me joue de lui, le manipule.

Parfois, je me repose, me soulage. Mais déjà ces minutes passées sans son contact me frustrent et je sens poindre en moi un désir encore plus fort. Elle est si dure et lisse et chaude et douce.

Et ça va, et ça vient, sans frein, et me guide toute la nuit... Au petit matin, de guerre lasse, la main épuisée, je la repose.

Après mille et un mots d'amour, après une nuit de tendresse et de complicité, après tant de promesses, de guerre lasse, la main épuisée, je la repose.

NB : pendant ce post, Ken écoutait "La Ouache" de Matmatah

"X"periment

2010-02-14T20:12:00.002+01:00

Last time Ken had a real sexual enlightment was many years ago. At this time, Thailand was not discuss... He just lead a simple life in Nowhere with cutey L. with who he sometimes explored new continents...
Time passed and sex turned into basic and boring thing... certainly because of Ken, afraid - or not aware - of the several options available on Earth, with guy.
Tonite, celebrating his 33 yo with a B-day-Fuck, Ken explored another part of him... he's a real gamer. Figuring how much he liked to play, Ken just followed his instinct and expressed himself, some things he can only afford when he's feeling comfortable or positivly scandalous deep inside.
Tonite, Ken was. Both of them.
Tommy isn't such a bombshell. But, slowly naked, he's the sweetest and sexiest teddy Ken ever met. That's probably why he made Ken so comfortable about the situation. And, because he drove Ken crazy, he allowed Ken to open his mind. And so, what happen...? A weird thing.
Yes, Ken is a weirdo, but wasn't it good Tommy ?

Explanations requiered.
After a sweet fashionable and French-oriented conversation, after a drink, Tommy took Ken in his arms. Ken felt strong enough to kiss him and, la-de-dee la-de-da... " sweat until the cloth came off"...
Came the time when Tommy drove Ken to the bed and the show went on... Faster, harder, stronger, better... you know this... Anyway, time after time after minutes, the wide Ken made Tommy cum on his chest... a necklace as a B-day present is not to be refused...
And, flash in the night, during 20 mn Tommy tried to made Ken cum in return, but impossible... le divine seed didn't explode... And Ken knew why... he did not want that to happen.
Many questions " why don't U cum", "why did U make me cum"... " U don't want? U can't"... But the answer is Ken just wanna to have fun, oh oh Ken, he just wanna fun".
It's only when Tommy headed to the shower that Ken freed from desire. Tommy's back, he noticed the situation and felt lost...
" I like to play"... admited Ken...

For what did this masquerade wost ?
- First, Ken stay horny for 2 hours non-stop.
- Second, he easily focused on Tommy's waits
- Third, he had his best ass-lickin' of all his time
... Then Tommy left to the headquarter ( mister works @ BedSuperclub in Bkk) and then came the time of sms...
" I'm just strange. 555"
" A little bit. Yes"
" Anyway, U welcome here"
" Nice to meet U. C U again sometime. Good nite"

Of course, there's less than 4% of probability that Tommy calls or joins once more. Anyway, it's not that important.
Tonite, Ken learnt he was weird enough to now accept this...
Happy B-day Ken.
Tommy is such a nice teddy.

Smells like teen spirit

2010-02-13T19:19:00.003+01:00

Kitten, Kitten, oh Kitten, your house explosed...
Kitten, oh Kitten, now you have no home.
Tu as passé ta vie à pleurer dans le noir...
Baby, you've come from a long way. Babe.
You're now an adult thing
and such a human being.
It's not time anymore to run the white rabbit,
There's not time left, no encore', to chase the chick habit.
Not time left anyway, to follow the yellow brick road
Life's not gold.

Kitten, Kitten, oh Kitten, your house exploded...
Kitten, oh Kitten, now you have no home...
Plus de Queen, plus de fouine,
Baby, you've come from a long way. Babe.
No pagan poetry but spell and "Has to Be"
No lite, no fun,
Just "Cake and Sodomy"...
You, stupid man, just stupid cupid.
You have, but you don't hold.
Life's not gold.

Tu me manques, tu me manques, tu me manques, tu me manques,
Mathieu.
Tu me manques, tu me manques, tu me manques, tu me manques,
Mathieu.

Once again,
I need a spaceship.
Once again,
I need a trip.
Far from myself,
Far from the day
I met you and felt
In love.
Somewhere up above.
Do you remember the last time ?
Do you remember the first time ?
Tu me manques, tu me manques, tu me manques Louis...
Tu me manques, tu me manques et tu me manques et tant pis.

Today, so many presents,
Yesterday, so much hope,
Tomorrow, u'll still here, absent.

Glam Boy'

2010-02-10T15:12:00.002+01:00

I knew a Boy, sparkling glitters
Wavin' his back,
And came for me.
Flyin' from sky, forbidden planet,
From Pluto to the Earth
In a spaceship across the universe.
There was a Boy who cared for me.

At nite i glanced the emerald star
Flushin' inside of me.
And the Boy stood by me side,
Tellin' me bedtime stories.
" Hooka, hooka", from monkey style,
" Hooka, hooka" was the beat.
At nite i felt an emerald star
From the Boy to my heart, Him iconic.

I knew a Boy,
A mood of Love,
Who came for me.
Emerald powder, glitters power,
Hair of pink - rush manners,
From Pluto, the forbidden planet,
He came for me.

Now, far far away in the land of Cold,
His body's lost, nothin' to hold.
Nothin' to keep.

C'est un putain...

2010-01-27T17:28:00.002+01:00

C'est un putain de texte qu'on écrit à une heure où on doit dormir,
Un putain de message qu'on pond avec 4 grammes dans le sang
et autant de Paracétamol pour être plus frais le lendemain.

C'est un putain de texte,
écrit par une pute de mec qui ferait n'importe quoi pour trouver un écho.
Un putain de message pour les putes qui comprennent.

C'est un putain de texte,
comme autant de SOS
qui méritent aucune aide,
mais qui n'ont de cesse
de trouver un prochain
dans le corps d'une déesse
ou d'un saint.

C'est un putain de texte chié en écoutant
des mélodies anciennes
bonnes pour un putain d'ado.
Un putain de message
pour clamer à l'antienne
que la nuit fait froid dans le dos.

Un putain de message - un pute de pourriture,
un putain de message, une salope d'écriture,
à des heures où on dort
mais où mon corps appelle.
Un putain de message
oublié dès demain...
Un putain de texte de rien...

Juste pour te dire "reviens"
Pour prier pas de lendemain...

Macadam Cowboy

2010-01-25T09:31:00.002+01:00

" Stop that train! "

Il fait chaud, ça pue et en plus il me marche dessus et faisant la gueule... Réglement de compte... On est six pieds sous terre, direction Lollipop-land, Missouri ou Westerntown... sweet banlieue pourrie.

Il fait chaud et humide. Un café au saloon avant de chevaucher et de se faire un rail... direction nord sud est ouest.

75004 ou 10500 c'est pareil. Si loin si proche.

Le métro, on l'attend, on le prend, on le vit.
Ici, des odeurs de gerbe et de vinasse, bienvenue à Paris. Là, des relents de Redbull et de brochettes, bienvenue à Bangkok. Des putains, des ribaudes. Des filles faciles.

Arrêt Texas, tu taxes le taxi parce que les diligences ont oublié d'être rapides.

Arrêt Ari-zona, dur dur de trouver le zig dans le zig-zag des soi.

Arrêt Alabama, Pont de l'Alma la Princesse Alarica descend là.

Et ces cons qui me font chier... qui avancent pas, qui restent devant les portes et les tourniquets...

Et ces shériffs qui me font chier, "contrôle des tickets monsieur"...

A tous ces babauds je dis "nobody can eat fifty eggs..."

Pis y'a ces mecs... Visages pâles, coeurs noirs; natifs primitifs inoffensifs et passifs... Sortir le lasso, ça me lasse... tout glisse et rien ne se passe.
Celui qui m'aime prendra le train. "Loco" à Paris, "DJ Station" à Bangkok... sans oublier Shinjuku, ou London-town... propres, nets et silencieux... à l'heure, pour qui sonne le glas.

Incident voyageur, panne technique... Road movie, c'est la calamité.

Terminus.

Interview...

2010-01-18T10:03:00.002+01:00

Job?
Writer and teacher

Style icons ?
Brian Molko and Chloe Sevigny.

Describe your personal style :
Traditiurban. Need an explanation ? For eg. classic pants with wooden "geta" and and Westwood carry-all tied by a tradi japanez scarf.

I build my daily look around a color.

Personal Style quirk ?
Some shoking pink patches here & there.

Favorite designers ?
Ch. Lacroix and A. McQueen.

Favorite stores ?
In Paris, Marais and St Germain Places,
In Tokyo, Marui ( ground floor) @ Shinjuku
In Bkk, ZEN @ Central.

Most stylish city ?
Paris, because people make black a living color like not other ( both colors and people).

Favorite vacation spot ?
For now ? Tokyo.

Favorite cocktail ?
Guess what ? Cosmo.

Favorite place to search for inspiration ?
Website "Satorialist" and my mind...

I spend my weekends… working.

Worst fashion mistake ?
Printed T-shirts.

Guilty pleasure ?
Lonely ones.

Most overrated item in menswear ?
Sunglasses.

Most underrated item in menswear ?
Scarf.

Never caught wearing ?
Shorts, unless doing a sport.

When I was high school I wore ?
Black outfits, daily.

Cologne ?
Guerlain Vetiver.

Most cherished item ?
My Vuitton Speedy bag.

The first thing I look at in another's outfit ?
Shoes.

Proportion for me... is only a match-games between the body shapes and the size and colors.

I always break this fashion rule… wearing shirts under the pants w/ a belt.

I never break this fashion rule :
Ladies first.

I feel best wearing ?
Shirt, classic pants and Converse... All grey or black.

Dress to impress the guy in the mirror.

Shine your own shoes ?
Yes. Daily.

Your next "must have" purchase ?
Mulberry... please !

Sports ?
Dancing on the top of the world.

Favorite neighborhood restaurant ?
Pochana, chinez-thai restaurant in Banglumpoo...

Best stylish movies ?
"The Velvet Goldmine" and SC's"Marie-Antoinette"

Currently reading ?
Marie-Antoinette biography

As a conclusion, favorite fashion magazine ?
VOGUE Paris. French, after all...

Love love mode ... accessories

2010-01-17T11:14:00.005+01:00

I'm a poor lonesome cowboy in the Fashion-sphere... Tryin' to fin my place in any mall i go...

For a long-time i'll be such a bad-temper critic in Bangkok, but now i finally found my way...
Shpping here is not such pleasant as in Paris or recently Tokyo... It's... a different sport. I noticed this a few weeks ago with my girl Brenda... I felt once again "cette sensation bizarre" i used to feel in Paris.

Almost impossible to be different... All year's long it's hot for a foreigner, so, it's hard to avoid shorts and T-shirts ( and God knows i hate them)... and if i hardly avoid comfortable polos now, it's because i like to shine... in dark.
Since i'm back from Tokyo, i remember how dark suits me. And not even the sun nor the heat can't break me down... but often... I'm good with my grey pants and shirts, my black Dc Martens shoes and my dark bags... I also feel alive in browns with my Vuitton's leather goods... I mean, it's a pleasure to go out with a grey white stiped suit pants and grey&white Converse that i can't imagine how i could wear classic shoes with.
I remember Tokyo... my grey light pink striped sweat and my so long and squared scarf matchin' with my Westwood bag... And what i learned in Bkk it's how dark can also be greys and browns when you know how match'em with accessories.

You easily understand why "accessories" are a boy best friends. They make me shine, not different but me... and why, sometimes, I miss Paris where i could change my outfits over the seasons. The for seasons.

It's an old and vain debate to compare women and men possibilities, but i guess it's more delectable to plays with traditions and styles when U're a man because nobody's more surprising than a guy appearing differently in a crowd @ nite. And i'm on it. It's more delightful than a woman because, precisely, everyone wants them to be different and men more commun... There go T-shirts in Bkk ( the exception is, some of them have more mistakes than others. Excuse me but i definetly can't be kind with this... But God knows i'm the necessary Evil here below, don't need to redeem).

Just go outside, grab your bag and earings. Wear it lightly with a pinch of Guerlain and THIS make your nite...

Perfect match ? A nice-classy guy to take care of you and your bag... But this is the icing on the cake, fast lick, fast kick...

PS : if any my now regular anonym comments-writer could gimme a clue about his - her identity, i'll be pleased ! Thanx

Paradize (Just 4 Me)

2010-01-15T12:20:00.003+01:00

I now remember, when i was young, i now remember nothin' was wrong... Le temps a passé et me revoilà...
If U want an Apollo, knock next door, but if U want a Dionysos, push 911 and Ken will answer... so many days in paradiz, Ken feels like he'll move... Dès les premières lueurs, oh... il sombre.
Ken knows he deserve the best, because the best already happened and everytime it's back... Just that Ken always thaught that Paradiz was above his head, not under his feet. So now he learns how bright are the lights far far away... He knows how deep was the love for L. but now so far far away... Deep in the well

Chute dans le terrier au coeur de la planète,
Sépare les blancs des rouges, comme sur un échiquier,
Traverse les miroirs au péril de ta tête ,
Tout se meut si mobile, pourtant rien n'a changé.

De ce conte à dormir, ce rêve, cette poésie,
Mis en vers, mis en rond, en charade ou en rimes,
Tu seras averti tout au long d'la partie
Que ce je enfantin ne souffre qu'on le brime.

Whatever happen in the future, Ken carries on... Hell is paved with flowers along a yellow brick road...

Il n'a pas peur qu'on lui menthe, qu'on fouille ses pensées. Sa peau est lys, ses dents de lion... " Et la fleur, oui, et la fleur ? ", demande la jeune fille. Le fleur, elle a fané.

Mais le long de la route de briques jaunes, que le chemin est long pour retrouver la maison... Mais le long de la route de briques jaunes, le souvenir un peu éteint, d'une bonheur pas si lointain.

Ken thinks at nite, y'a le plafond qui le regarde... Mais si c'est Dionysos que tu cherches sur le trône, c'est la coupe qu'il t'offrira et tu seras le roi.

I now remember when i was young, i now remember i was not wrong.

La cité est un temple nu de tout horizon. Dentelée, morcelée ça et là, de métal : les tours et bâtiments jaillissent à profusion.
Un oeil attentif sait tôt y remarquer que tout semble s'unifier pour pointer les étoiles. Monter toujours plus haut, pour caresser les dieux, une main assurée y sent le froid métal, le gris acier, le minéral, des éternelles structures qui grimpent vers les cieux.
Il est des heures tardives quand il monte sur les toits (étage sept, niveau dix ou bien quatre-vingt huit), là parmi les lumières les ombres les silences les fracas. Il entre alors dans les sphères, il frappe, il s'y invite. Là toujours il regarde, à gauche à droite derrière puis en bas, les ponts, les routes les rails ; tout se met à briller.
De ta silhouette informe, je recherche ta main. Et ton signe qui pourra me guider.

If you're the guide, the messager, please knock on my heaven's door... If you seek @ me, please visit... I wanna hold your hands... I wanna kiss U in Paris, i wanna love U in a train, cross country...
But if you want Apollo in the light, close to me U'll loose your fight...
Tu as été, tu es, tu ne seras pas... Là-bas, loin de moi...

Paradize, just 4 me... I was so blind, now i can see, the paradize is just for me.
But if any, U wanna knock on my Heaven's door, sans que tu me menthes, ni ne m'envoie sur les roses... U welcome.
Quand il est arrivé de sa région de froid,
Par un dimanche matin,
'L est descendu d'auto, a appelé chez moi
Pour me tendre la main.

Lors, on s'est retrouvés dans la ville vidée,
Lui et moi, à deux pas
Séparés l'un de l'autre, mais proches par l'idée
De se chauffer les mains.

Dans les buées d'hiver, dans les lourdes fumées,
Nous nous sommes échangé
Des mots, des contes, des verres, des regards amusés,
Des paroles par les mains.

Au fil de la journée, au noeud de la soirée,
En cette éternité,
S'est tracé le dessein d'hier et de demain
De deux paires de mains.

Et quand il est parti, dans la nuit infinie,
Et quand je suis rentré,
Nos deux coeurs déjà pris, nos étoiles et nos vies
Reposaient en nos mains.

Aujourd'hui encore, et bien du temps a filé,
Lorsque l'on se retrouve,
Je pense au temps ancien, à ce dimanche matin,
Et je lui prends la main.

Since then, Ken's hands are cold.

Eve

2009-12-25T03:29:00.002+01:00

Sex and cyber together, is a too old debate... But can U imagine another sexual-cybersome relationship than in the Internet ? It's all about Ken last nite, when the DJ didn't save his life...

All day long, Ken ran playstation, Final Fantasy X-2 ( just before the new one) and enjoyed the time with the ladies ( Yuna, you rule !).

After that and before dinner, Ken steped into the roof to dance for one hour or two. Megasound on ears, revival of the showtimes ( RE-invent myself), get into the groove, Ken missed two calls from 063-9999999... ( Don't forget never answer the 999-999999 number in Thailand, it's like watchin' a cursed video in Japan... Beware !)

So, after shower, after dinner, Ken went back home ( or rather 'den', we talk about Final Fantasy, and about RPG, Ken can be as wild as a bear, sometimes he don't even shave for a while... It's holiday, OK ?) and continued gaming for an hour when the phone rang once again. "This time, i know it's for real", Ken picked up his new Sony-E Aino.

P. was calling because tonite, after work he was alone. 2 days before, Ken went out for a coffee break when he was painting and he met P. who asked once again Ken's number. So, Ken, if you give your number, U answer. P. came to visit Ken ( remember that Ken was playing, it was such a delicate decision to take !) and they drink, speak and eat together... X-mas bonus ? They jumped on the roof and enjoyed a very beautiful view until P. start to... Ok, very erotic time, close to the skies, the skins and the cameras of the condo... Outside but private time. A few minutes of real sexy preliminaries before another hot time... But once @ home, P. started to put off his clothes, all alone and U know how much Ken hates this. This is his job...

Mechanical animal, P. starts to play Atomu's vision of sex and made Ken very uncomfortable. So came the boring time of calculated kisses and blow jobs... And suddenly Ken thaught about Yuna and her fellas and felt inside of him that he needed to play. Of course, very gentleman, Ken kept P. home, made him cum because he knows how to treat the guests... He's all French after all...

The point is it's difficult to have a blow job thinkin' about a video game... especially when the game is more enjoyable than the joystick... After this all philosophical theory, and washing his mouth, Ken declared he didn't want sex with P.

They slept together, in arms... the Xmas miracle happened...

During this post, Ken was listening Marin Marais, "Suitte d'un goût étranger"

And now, it's time for him to put on the Playstation...

Innocent blood

2009-12-08T15:52:00.002+01:00

Three years bofore, Ken was walking on the streets all day long, waitin' for (the son of the man? ) the result of the bloody test... It was on winter time, almost Xmas, a dark day under the rain and the wind. His boyf' was positive, Ken negative. The Lord works in mysterious ways...
Three days before, Ken was drinking a cappuccino in Starfucks coffee, all morning long, waitin' for the result of the bloody test... It was on winter time, almost Xmas, a bright day under the sun and breeze. Ken is negative, thinkin' perhaps he was positive. Roads of Hail are paved of good intentions...

Everytime it's the same problem... Ken is a fabulous drama, but whatever he says, whatever he does, he don't wanna die. Life, nothin' else matter ? Nothin' ? That's not true... Blood fucks it all... Blood is not a vital force or liquid but just a social link with social life. Innocent blood, you have no blood.

Finally, Ken is negative. Of course, he knew it before the test. But the worst is to happen... In Thailand, nazis doctors flood into questions... you have to justify why you feel afraid to be sick... So, valorous and glorious Ken explained he was in a long relationship with Mister Husband and both of them wanted a normal sexlife without condom... Ken thaught this answer satisfied Doctor. But the reaction was cruel ( not that She meant to be, but Thai Eva B. was) and made me Ken wanna cry : "it's a good decision. Like that, your couple is more official"... If the blood is sane, heart's bleeding... Thai Magda G. killed the Holy Child of love deep inside Ken's heart.

Anyway, Ken has no Mister Husband @ home, but reading the result on the sheet ( shit) of paper, he thought about the lines before. Plus, what about the next Mister Husband ? What kind of social masquerade both of them will play ? It means, if your blood is sane you're alive, if not, the grave is already dug. It means, if you're afraid of AIDS you run away, cowardly... Innocent blood, you have no blood.

Later he thought about myths and crimes, about parents killing ( Magda ?) or eating the kids. All blood crimes allowed the murderer to improve himself. Innocent blood, you have no blood, insane blood, you can live.

With friends, during childhood, we used to mix our blood to sign a pact. Links of blood are strong... Bullshit. Because blood is just an engine, some gas, to improve yourself selfishly no matter the way you take, no matter how you act. Gimme your blood i'll be stronger on my own.

Ken don't really care about your blood. He just cares about what's inside the heart. He's just a fountain of blood in a shape of a boy. But men if you're men enough, stop your bloody shits and invite him for a 'BloodyMary'

He's an innocent one.

"WIN" Words

2009-11-30T11:57:00.003+01:00

Hi guys,

today Ken was treating himself all day long. Candles, flowers and perfume, eveything to put off the icky smell of your words... Rather than knifes, your words are filthy stones because even if now Ken don't believe in them anymore, he still suffers from them as consequences...
" I don't wanna hear your words. Please take them all back... they always attack..." ladee dee ladee da !

Your words stay on Ken's skin. Of course, he tries hard, every day, to put'em off under the shower. But they stay... they stick... sticky and heavy...

" Don't analyze, don't analyze" but listen to me. Ken is a real guy... When he says he likes u or ur shirt he really means it. When he says he loves you or your smell, he also means it. The point is you like to play with words. Don't try crosswords with him... he's not a beautiful liar.

PLEAZ, shut your mouth up and open Ur heart ( and Ur brain) rather than actin' cowardly...

Ken remembers that English guy that nite ( btw, last week he baught a candle " rainy meadow" smelling like an English summer rain and that's so good) who teased him for more than one hour. Time after time, Ken proposed to continue the conversation @ home... It was late, Ken was a little drunk, a perfect situation for an English gentleman. What did happen ?
The gentleman answered he was no gay and he was waiting for his girlfirend call. Hope he was crashed under a cab...

Invitation is a so-cialize thing that Ken enjoys. Preparing a little somethin' to eat and drink, being the perfect Bree Van de Kamp, he knows well how to do it...
Unfortunatly, some guys don't understand words when they're real.

When started this kind of seduction where you fuck first and after you treat your guy ? I mean, it's plain to see there's somethin' rotten in the Siam Kingdom... A long time ago, Ken remember how attractive was " l'art discret de la séduction en ce beau pays français ". A meal, a room in a hotel by the sea, a smile, an eye... Now, if he dares invit someone, it means he wants a shag...

Even when he's not in love or in sex but only for a good relationship.

Words. Ken talks about relationship rather than friendship because now everybody is your dear friend. I mean, this word mean nothing... Anyone can be your friend and everyone wants it to be... Ken prefers talks about relationship and because you guys don't understand the difference between "friendly" and "fuckly" Ken says "fuck U very much".

Guys, please stop speaking for nothin'. Open Ur mouth for a good reason and don't play to much. You're not that special... Ken is.

Burial of the Lover

2009-11-29T11:18:00.003+01:00

Burial of the Lover

1. "April is the cruellest month..."

"April is the cruellest month "
Puis viennent mai, juin, juillet.
Les couleurs caillent, les vernis séchent.
Et la douleur,
Et les amours hier si fraîches
Rappellent si loin les jours d'été.

"April is the cruellest month "
Meurent ainsi mai, juin, juillet.
Puis vient août, avec doute
On sent mourir au coeur
La chaleur de l'été.
Tu es parti si loin, pour toi, pour rien,
Tu as quitté ma main, pour toi, sans rien.
Puis vient août, avec doute,
Qui se meurt déjà au passé.

" April is the cruellest month "
Puis tremblent ensemble,
Septembre, novembre, décembre.
Il est octobre - repos - des lumières de la ville
Mais qui s'endort trop tôt.
Et tremblent ensemble,
Septembre, novembre, décembre,
Qui chantent la fin de l'année
Sans un ris, sans un louis.
Sans un bruit.
C'est dans l'obscurité,
Pour la nouvelle année.

Louis des époques, "Futurs"

Tribute to T.S Eliot

Sympathy for the Devil, tribute to rockstars

2009-11-16T12:52:00.002+01:00

Sympathy for the Devil

Please, give all my sympathy for the Devil...
If the doors of Heaven are opened - holy doors - please send all my sympathy to the Devil.
Ken was walkin' on the streets, spending sums he hadn't win yet. If the doors of the malls are opened - beloved doors - please give all my sympathy to the Devil.
** La Vie matérielle *

Aroma candles ................. 150 B
Greyhound shirt .............. 1850 B
Izzue "dot" shirt ................ 3250 B
TopMan shirt .................. 1300 B
Giordano pants .............. 1400 B
Ipod classic case ............ 1100 B
Phone card ....................... 300 B
Cappucino .......................... 90 B

(see details on Facebook)

Ken is going back home,
home alone
home - sick.
Many hours of computing, lyin' a few lines on the darkest part of a dream. All my sympathy for the Devil. If doors of insomnia are opened - dark doors of the nite - give all my sympathy to the Devil.

Et il y a ce garçon, ce photographe.
Passé lointain, regard perdu. Sourires rares et durs.
Rien de léger... à peine le temps d'un shoot.
Si c'est ça l'avenir...
"I reserve, I resolve
I have a reservation
I have a reservation!
What you do you mean it's not in the computer ?"
Please, sent all my prays to the Devil.

Whenever, wherever... i say a little pray to the Devil.
May all my wishes come true.
Sign a pact, sign a life,
May all my wishes come true.
At the light of a candle,
like the moth close to the flame,
My words fly away,
And circle and trace like the smoke of a cigaret.

OHM-MA-LEUK-GEUK-GUEE-MA-LEUK-GEUK-GUEE-MA-LEUK-GEUK-GUEE PIANG
Make me go to Japan
OHM-MA-LEUK-GEUK-GUEE-MA-LEUK-GEUK-GUEE-MA-LEUK-GEUK-GUEE PIANG
Make Louis comin' back to me
OHM-MA-LEUK-GEUK-GUEE-MA-LEUK-GEUK-GUEE-MA-LEUK-GEUK-GUEE PIANG
Make T. comin' close to me
OHM PIANG
OHM-MA-LEUK-GEUK-GUEE-MA-LEUK-GEUK-GUEE-MA-LEUK-GEUK-GUEE PIANG
Make me handsome
OHM-MA-LEUK-GEUK-GUEE-MA-LEUK-GEUK-GUEE-MA-LEUK-GEUK-GUEE PIANG
Make me rich and famous
OHM-MA-LEUK-GEUK-GUEE-MA-LEUK-GEUK-GUEE-MA-LEUK-GEUK-GUEE PIANG
Make me fuck a rockstar
OHM PIANG

Promiz to try...
With all my sympathy for the Devil.

Pagan Poetry

2009-11-12T18:08:00.002+01:00

Deja vu
I recognize the beat
I've heard it on the street
They put it on repeat

Black is the color.
Color of Ken's mind, when blue ( Blou) is far away,
Color of Ken's cloths when he's socializin',
Color of Ken's blood when he's listening music...
After class, take my hands and follow me in Galleria... Express yourself, and lemme introduce you new people. Ken is a foreigner, but even far from everyone, he recreated some kinda small small world...
So, come with me boy.
Color of the nite. In Bangkok she comes very fast like a pourin' rain.
Color of your eyes.

Deja vu
I recognize the beat
I've heard it on the street
They put it on repeat

Hey, mister sweet,
Ken don't even know what he wants with you, but he bets he wants somethin'.
Ken needs a friend here. A guy. A gay...
Color of sleep when nightmares strike back,
Color of loneliness when Ken wanna hold a hand.
Don't even know what to do with you...
Ken likes you, Mister Photographer...

Deja vu
I recognize the beat
I've heard it on the street
They put it on repeat

Tonite in Bangkok,
"aux lumières de la ville, des visages sans noms..."
Color of the waiters, sexy asses and big dicks in shorts,
Color of their skin movin' so sexy
"Here he comes, he's all dressed in black..."
Mister Photographer, Ken likes your smiles...
On picture, one shot...
Lady, please, let Ken be your Model
Mister Photographer, please let Ken be your Model

Color of the Model...
Deja vu
I recognize the beat
I've heard it on the street
They put it on repeat

A drink,
A party,
A picture,
A photographer,
"Sie ist ein Modell und sie sieht gut aus,
ich nehm sie heut` gerne mit zu mir nach haus!
Sie wirkt so kühl, an sie kommt niemand ran,
doch vor der Kamera da zeigt sie was sie kann!
Sie trinkt in Nachtclubs immer Sekt (korrekt!)
und hat hier schon alle Männer abgescheckt
Im Scheinwerferlicht ihr junges Lächeln strahlt,
sie sieht gut aus und Schönheit wird bezahlt - ja!
Sie stellt sich zur Schau für das Konsumprodukt,
und wird von millionen Augen angeguckt.
Ihr neues Titelbild ist einfach fabelhaft,
ich muss sie wiedersehen, ich glaube sie hates geschafft!"

Anyway, Mister photographer...
Ken likes you...

What do U want then ?

2009-10-25T12:37:00.002+01:00

When the question was " who the fuck are you?, then it was so difficult for Ken to answer". Now the question is "what do you want then ?" and it's also complicated.

Talking with a girlfriend in the worst place of Bangkok city, Ken understood many things. No need to be alone to think about the deepest things of the life...

Yes, first of all, the location is a real St. Peter desk in front of the doors of Heaven. Angels and demons united, but in a pale image of the famous italian brand... Here, tourists are very attractive. After 2 years of thai experiment and many month of loneliness and vain seduction, Ken can say " Yes, tourists, even if they're acting like big s***, are sexy and handsome in this land of no-body and empty-eyes".

Firstly, Black guys, sexy in polo shirts and tight blue-jeans. You can imagine muscles under, the CK-thing under and the joystick under the under. If clothes are the body of the body, strong Black men don't need any. They're sexy, handsome with a definitly natural healing... But, at the same time, they're so stupidly confident about themselves that they just sexy. It's not enough.

Others, often Asian or Western, chubby-but-not-too-fat guys Ken like seem to look only guys like them... strange open-minded attitude for such different people... Anyway, thanx to his gal, Ken realized they're just cute because they're all round. Many experiences showed that round things make the self happy, confident and ready for tenderness. But what happen when Ken put off their shirts or polos ? Hard to get hard !

Thai guys, OMG. Do i need to explain again. Sure, it's not enough slam for Ken who will certainly tell others real stories...

White ones ? Ken remembers last Thursday nite, after the prime time in the first described Babylon-district of Bangkok, this French guy with his bitches strictly avoid any single contact. Excuse me but, i should say "after he glanced Ken so many times and get his attention". Oh, wait a minute, isn't he a bitch obviously devoted to Thai guys ( the 3 other whores who wiggled their tiny flat ass) ?

Now, the question is " what do you want then? " It's certainly a NORMAL man. A mister nice guy for sex, for love or whatever else...

Or, perhaps, deep inside of him, Ken looks for a chubby-but-not-too-fat mix-blood in a polo shirt... ?

MISSION TIME

Braindead

2009-10-16T17:57:00.002+02:00

Once upon a time, 2 guys in love. Nothin' really romantic, but a daily life and some hopes. Some years later, one of thoses princes left the Kingdom to look for the Golden Him...

The second prince is now living alone, writing everyday, and all day long, a fabulous Destiny he erases every nite, when he's alone. Braindead.

The first prince is now far, far away. In a far far away Kingdom, and there're no red shoes or hurricanes to join him. The second prince still awaits, and he writes in vain some beautiful fairy tales. Braindead.

The second prince tries hard to tell a beautiful new tale, full of prince, dreams and apples. But the once forever bliss in now a forever winter. The words die before they born. Between the lines, the birds' songs can't reach the first Prince. Braindead.

Once upon a time, there were 2 princes in love.
Now the first has left.

Now the Second is dead. Braindead.

F*** me, I'm Farang

2009-10-16T12:39:00.002+02:00

Another nite, another experience...

Yesterday, Ken had a dinner with Lady B. in the Smalltown of Silom4, the land of go. Quite a perfect nite, good restaurant and so. Now, Ken gambles a lot : he both socializes and takes pleasure to share dinner with someone else...

So, after the restaurant, a little drink. U know, Ken loves Cosmo so much and he knows a place where both cocktails and cocks-tails are delicious... Sat on the outside sofas, Lady B. & Ken continued the nite lookin'@ the freakshow all around.
For once, Ken paid more attention to foreign guys and felt so often surprised to see they looked at him in a place where Thais boys reign ( as princesses, of course, not more...). So, between two drinks and private jocks, Ken played a new game, watches into the eyes he met like TV screens... Quite a funny game.

Western guys overecited, trembling voices and shacking legs, trying cool to seduce faced local boys, ridiculously dressed, acting like little princesses... The youngest ones, sure to have a good shag, the older ones - very desperate but rich enough to leave the place w/ a big love - praying hard to stay hard enough to cum at least not before 5 minutes...

Western man, not that young ( because the young come in Thailand to shag local meat), faced your beloved author Ken. But does he remind you that he was drinkin' pure essence of bliss ? So, by the way, Ken felt so happy to notice that Western men also appreciated him. Of course, some sights were ironic ( Ken was with a lady), other full of mercy, and then, last ones, full of curiosity and hunger... even if they were surrounded by Thai sissies...

Ken felt quite happy. First, because he's handsome (of course, fatter than Thai "no'body" dolls), natural and his look can express himself more than thousands of words. Ken is also cleaver and he doesn't need to speak loud to keep a man's attention. So, this is a special message for the pink-shirt-man : you should have to move your ass... because i could not let my lady alone... U dumb !

So, yes, Fuck me, i'm Farang... Because Ken deserves it.

Grand Turismo in... Tokyo

2009-10-11T10:56:00.008+02:00

Promise, it's not a guide i propose. Just some impressions from my impressive journey. Eight days, Shibuya, Shinjuku, Harajuku, Ikebukuro, Ginza, Azabu and more... Totemo ii des' !
I'm not a tourist so, i realized a big "sweet escape" as a real urban cowboy... Program : shopping, eating, dancing, kissing among macadam flowers and nightcrawlers... I loved everything i did... because, of course, i love Tokyo... other cities always make me sad... bla bla bla, U know the song !
On & on, and the beat goes !

In books, U can read Tokyo is clean, ordered. Everyone's polite and quiet. So, no need to explain more. That's a fact, Tokyo is clean if I compare with Bkk or Paris.
Some pictures in my head lost in the full views : dirty toilets @ Shinjuku Sanchome with bottles, sexual messages, condoms full of cum & so... A full people 'konbini' ( 7/11) waiting 4 alcohol before dancing or shagging... and me & my friends, get ready 4 the dancehall...
On & on and the beat goes...

On TV or magazines, U can read that Japanese people work all time. But because of the holly crisis, they now have more time. And it's good to spend all nite long in an 'izakaya' ( typical bar) drinkin' some new alcohol made of sweet potatoes ( ask for a imojûchô... the 'hotaru' one is the best i tasted)...
In papers, U can also read a lot about food. I'm not a food lover... but some rear cuisine are tasty ( from south of Japan), very simple, tempura, natto, all for farmers or fishermen, but quite good for a social nitefreak like me who wants a strong man...
On & on and the beat goes...

Tokyo is definetly not what i saw on the Internet or magazines. Because, outsite Ginza or Harajuku ( reminded me Camden in London), when the sun sets, everything's is different.
Pay for a song in a bar, and i sang Kôda Kumi or Amuro Namie... repeat many times Verubara ( Osacaaaaaaaar!) in Japanese made me close to Teru, my beloved waiter in a small Kuma-chan bar ( 'kuma' means bear) : バラはバラは気高く咲いて ...バラはバラは美しく散る... Happy i can read japanese.

Good experience for me, i learnt new kanjis and i'm ready for karaoke... Metro experience is not such a difficulty if you dare.
Also, shopping was my biggest happiness : i'm now able to trade in Japanese and i baught my sweetheart Westwood bag all in japanese, only after 40 hours in class... Of course, i need to learn more, but i know now i could survive in the jungle of Tokyo... Just waiting 4 Maetel's call...
Ok guys, R U a cat or a sword... If U're "neko" it means U like to B fucked, if U're "tachi" means U feel like a samurai... Neko is a wordgame from 'ne' ( means sister) and 'ko' (means kid). To-gay-ther, they made 'neko', the cat. And 'Tachi' is an old word 4 "husband"...

So my friend Miki asked Teru to give me a yellow color, but i decided wearing another one : gray one !
Yes, grey was my color all the trip long !

Talking with guys is quite hard. First, they mostly don't speak English. Sensual language is very important, but i noticed that everyone wears a label. Of course, i still was in Asia. So, difficult to talk with another neko even if U are a great cocksucker and sensual guy like me...
I said before i was wearing grey everyday. First, for me, it's the perfect urban color. I don't want to pay particular attention to urban wear in Bkk because it don't worth it, but in Tokyo, there are some differences. For eg, salary men wears striped suits until 35 yo and after they're all dressed in black. Anyway, look is very clean and sober... too sober. In Harajuku and Ikebukuro, it's different. U can meet strange creatures... but U know it well... i don't want to describe !
In short, grey color suit me and i remember a lady askin'me if i was a fashion designer...
YES, I CAN BE PROUD OF ME : i was never bad dressed and i easily can compete with japanese style. It was my biggest fear ! ^^

Every place reminded me some music. In general, Tokyo in a electric city and Electro suits her well.
But day by day, i realized my own playlist :
- Shibuya : Metro Aera ( on the streets), Koda Kumi & Amuro Namie ( for shopping)
- Azabu : SailorMoon but also Gainsbourg
- Ropppongi : Pop music
- Sumida : French chanson
- Asakusa : Ghost in the Shell
- Shinjuku : all DaftPunk
- Ueno : David Bowie & Velvet Underground on the park
- Yoyogi : Garbage and rock
- Ginza : lounge : DimitriFromParis and KidLoko
- Ikebukuro : french touch Caravan Palace
- Iidabashi : music of the streets and shops

So sounds, colors, and skins... Thank U Teru-chan for Ur sweet skin and face and 'arigatô' Tatsuyâ for Ur kiss... I never understood that U used to like me when i was Ur teacher in Paris... U're a young great boy. And remember, Birkin is great, but such nothin' compare to Speedy (thanx 4 the advice about the 35 cm !)

OK, i stop here. Just, i love Tokyo and i'll go back !

Confessions

2009-07-31T13:00:00.001+02:00

I have a tale to tell...

Ken was lyin' on my bed, tryin' hard to sleep.
Hands on his neck made him suffocate
But nothin' or no one around him.
Can you imagine the feeling, the pain
when your head explodes a lack of breathe ?
Of course, Ken could't blame Him to leave
But in another way he wondered how he still can live
When he understood that his own hands
run around his own skin.

Ken was crossing on a bridge
When lights above him called his name.
He wondered if he could talk to them
His purest deepest secret.
Of course, to reach the stars
need a big jump first.
One leg and another, that's the test.
Like a moth to a flame
Ken has no scare of shame.

Ken was listenin' music,
Imagine himself to a tin can,
Make a great journey up to the land
With nothin' or no one around him.
At the chorus he wondered
if such a place can exist.
And the glam light of the fame,
And the high shape of Pyramide of Nile
Gave him such a sad smile.

Ken was sittin' under the sea
In a octopuss' garden, in the grave.
He'd like to be an everybody' else boy
Because he'd like to feel alive.
And break all the circles of madness
And breath anew under the skies.
He tried to swin to reach the shore
Made some efforts... He Kept the score
And couldn't go on anymore.

I have a tale to tell
When Ken was lyin' on my bed
And when i looked at him finaly aslept.
I put my hands around his neck
And cluthed it to suffocate.
I have a tale to tell
When Ken was crossind on the bridge.
I came on his back and whispered
" Are you ready to jump? "
I have a tale to tell
When Ken was listenin' music.
I took a guitare in my hands
And crashed it to the stars.
I have a tale to tell
When Ken sittin' under the sea.
I can now remember well
I had a mirror in my hand
And i glimpsed strangely
I was Ken.

I'm more important than Michael Jackson

2009-07-22T16:54:00.002+02:00

God is not on Earth, neither the Devil. They're both inside of you, inside of me and because we're equal, i'm -at least - as important as MJ. But because i'm alive, i'm more important than MJ.

Once a God, once the Devil, once a King, but for ever human and dead, like a Jesus Christ Superstar. I have no regret and feel no pain about him. Now, and for everyone on Earth dyin' like me of the same disease I say a little pray. Because we are the world, and we are more important than MJ.

Alive, he was regarded as a (smooth?) kiddy-criminal. Dead - but really gone too soon -, he's regarded as a victim. Siner or martyre, he was like us. But because i'm alive, because i'm in love, because i'm sad & mad, i'm more important than MJ.

I'm a kind whose family's member disappear on a deadly stage accident. I'm a kind abandoned by the star. I'm a kind whose shadow is a ghost with no meaning. I am one of your, so i'm more important than MJ.

I'm a kind dyin' of a shocking disease. But still faithful and forever fair on my way, i'm a kind you can rely on & trust him. When i'm good, when i'm bad, when i'm fool, when i remember the time. That's why i'm better than Michael Jackson, that's why i'm more important than Michael Jackson.

Encore une douche...

2009-07-19T14:33:00.002+02:00

Encore une douche. La combien?, Ken l'ignore. Encore une longue douche ce soir. Trente minutes de nudité pour le corps et la tête, un moment intime où il se montre, parce que sous l'eau, il ne triche pas, il ne ment pas. A personne, et surtout pas à lui-même.
Il se dit qu'il pourrait tout aussi bien aller à la piscine... Mais ça, ça supposerait sortir de chez lui, de se montrer, nu devant les autres... et ça le fait sourire, tristement.

Encore une douche. Il est sorti depuis quelques minutes déjà, et pourtant quelques parties de son corps sont encore humides, ses épaules, ses yeux.
Ken, ça fait maintenant quatre jours qu'il est pas sorti de chez lui. Il est très fatigué, tellement qu'il peut rien faire d'autre que de penser en français, que de souffrir en français. Quatre jours, pas vraiment. Hier, il a dû aller au supermarché du coin parce qu'il avait fait tomber sa cafetière... elle avait éclaté en mille morceaux, comme autant de gouttes d'eau sur le sol. Non celle-ci ne s'était pas mise à danser au coin du feu. Non, elle n'avait pas réveillé de doux souvenirs. Juste sommé l'impérieux besoin d'en avoir une autre, pour boire un café. La vie matérielle.
Alors, il est allé en acheter une nouvelle. Mais pas de chance, dans la rue, il a fallu qu'il lève la tête et que la présence des autres, même loin de chez lui et à des années lumières de son arbre, interrompe sa musique. " You're in a bad way, every day is just the same... Just dial my number, i got some plan for you..." chantait l'anglaise dans son iPod. Il a hésité Ken, mais il est quand même entré acheter sa cafetière. La gentille dame lui a demandé s'il avait une carte de membre. Simplement, avec toute sa gentillesse, il lui a pleuré au visage.
Et il est rentré. Boire un café.

Encore une douche. Pour faire du bien, pour faire le point. A cette heure où il écrit, Ken aurait dû sortir du ciné et peut-être même se rendre au resto avec un gentil jeune homme. Ils s'aiment bien tous les deux. Il est sympa ce jeune homme, pas très beau, mais très charmant et amusant. Il sait plein de choses, parle plein de langues...
Encore une douche... un longue douche pour se laver de cette odeur, de cette image, de cette présence qui ne le retient à rien... Encore une longue douche pour cacher ses larmes et étouffer ses cris.
Ken, il est pas heureux en ce moment. Il se demande s'il va bien, son Autre aux antipodes. Son Autre, il savait le regarder, le toucher. Ken, il se trouvait beau dans les yeux de l'Autre. Et il se sentait en vie dans les bras de l'Autre.
Depuis, la vie est partie. Dans la maison, il n'y a plus cette odeur, plus cette image, plus ces rires... Dans la ville, il n'y a rien non plus. Dans le monde... il n'y a plus cet arbre.

Encore une douche pour retirer les dernières souillures. Pour se frotter si fort qu'il pourrait, avec davantage de force, s'effacer lui-même.

Japanese Poetry @ Midnite

2009-07-12T18:25:00.001+02:00

Math,

Ah làlà qui est ce qui te fait tant de mal et te rend mélancolique????

Ben.....toi tu es spécial pour moi,même si je suis tombé amoureux de qqun,

Ça c’ est sur.

Et je crois qu’on a avancé en partant de ce point .

En tout cas,tu dois te calmer un peu. Je l’attends.

Donne moi tes nouvelles après tes douleurs soient calmés,ok ?

Je t’embrasse

MIKI

Next in the City

2009-07-12T08:16:00.004+02:00

When did love someone become a social work ?

I know it's clumsy startin' a post with a question. But this is the most important one ever ! In a big city, why seduction is as hard as a job interview ?
Last nite, your beloved Ken had 2 strange experiences.

First act : Kuma-chan... After many many days of silence, Ken finally contacted him for the last time because he can't bear silence and need to know why someone don't want to talk with him anymore. So, after a quick sms, Kuma-chan answered and a few minutes later connected on the msn... Ken finally got an explanation. Kuma-chan can't now see him because a friend of him has serious problem with Justice & Money... So what's the link with Ken ? Nothin' but a sorta excuse from Kuma-chan who has no money too to take a cab to visit Ken @ nite. Ok... so Ken proposed to visit Kuma-chan because he really needed & wanted a (sweet or hard) time with him. But another problem : Kuma-chan live @ his parents... OK, no job, no money, but in family ... Ken felt so sorry, but for the self, not for Kuma-chan... Ken is not a social worker.

Second act : Doctor S... Doc. is a beloved Ken's contact since many months. Of course, until' May, Ken used to be involved in a real relashionship so he quickly stopped the blossom affair... Faithfuly for him and Louis. Last nite, about 2 am. dear Doc. called Ken, drunk, full of vodka & Redbull. He asked Ken to visit him. Ken also tries to contact and see Doc for a few weeks but in vain 'cause Doc. still continue his studies & Ken respect this very important situation. But yesterday Ken felt he was nothin' else but a Bootie call. 2 days before, Doc. answered a sms pretending that "Love was not a video game". Sorry, but love is neither a fast-fuck when your nite is darker than usually... Ken is not a social worker.

Ken is a shitty dreamer, beggin' for a husband, a dear friend. He's not a hotline for a sleepless guy. Sorry men, but Ken still wonders where are the real men with heart and balls... Until' the men stop to act selfishly, love or all type of human relashionship in the city will continue to be a social career... Fuck it !

I'm not sorry, it's human nature

2009-07-09T15:14:00.004+02:00

He's the greatest dancer.
Yesterday nite, one student of mine visited me for one hour of conversation. Actually, he stayed all nite long, until' 5am. We talked about many things, art, literature, religion, politics and... sex, of course. Take 2 guys together, mix'em ( but not too much, one of them is str8... i mean 'normal' in his mouth), add a fews beers (that's why i talked about politic) and let's go for oral fixation. We agreed about many things, except, of course, that he had a few questions about 'gay' and a few lessons to learn'bout ladies.
No, i won't re-open the debate about the feminine condition in Thailand, because it don't worse it ( & it's not a mistake), i mean, for me. But it was a great moment of Western points of view. The climax of the nite was my enlightment, and i'm now sure why i have to stay here.
No philosophy here, but i have now to find my way and to find myself. I promise to try...

She's a Lady.

Today, another student of mine visited me for a private class... We also talked about love, about sex, about real life, and it's sometimes to difficult to talk about serious things with Thai people in Bkk.
She's great, she pushed me. She's so cynical, critical and conscious about the society, the guys & the self that i was very... VERY... Impressive instant. She said she regarded thai guys as serious and dangerous gamblers but not exciting gamers, bad lovers and womanizers... I remember the last nite conversation when my homie told me that he could not bear the general and forever 'happy attitude' here. So hypocrite ! I mean, even thai people can't stand this now !

She's really conscious about her : too old for young guys, and fed up with gigs, she's also too young for mature guys ( here, all of them are married and you fall in a bad way if U crush on'em, old dirty bastards) or foreigners, so often selfish. Hard for good people to meet good people. Times are hard !
So, it finally was a realief for me to hear someone cleared about her situation and also assertive to find a way to be happy !

Thanx Damiano, thanx Sirilak... i like both of U !

Hard-boiled Wonderland

2009-07-06T13:40:00.004+02:00

It's pretty hard to define a guy in Bangkok. First mission, is he straight or gay? I mean, all of them look the same way, all of them walk ( i'd rather say drag the feet) the same way, all of them act the same when U try to seduce them.
Second part, when U know he's for you or not, the worst is to happened. Ladies & gentlemen, prepare yourself. Of course, where you're not in your country, you have to respect the new rules. But i'm sure they're not real seduction's game in this place...
Ken tried hard to find some signs of real seduction here, but impossible. The most easy way to find a guy here is to propose somethin' material in return : money, a place to stay for a nite, alcohol... In a place where everythin's ruled by money, it's almost impossible to create a real relationship, even for only sex or sweet times. Excuz me, but here, guys are not men...
Exit those sissy ones who make Ken lost his hard-on, the others aren't better in the game of seduction. Whatever the social class, the job or the education of the guy, he's always a coward, stupidly smilin' and there's nothin' else to expect... They're a pale movie of exciting games in Paris, for example.
No matter the way you choose : on the Internet, in real life in public places, @ work or pubs, Thai guys always act the same. They look @ you, they smile & smile & smile again ( a stupid one) and that's it... After this, Ken tries to react, to contact, because he's latin, because he's alive, because he's very burnin' inside... But in vain... Last week, Ken found a guy who sms him that he was thinkin'about him, he wanted to meet him irl... But sooner, no sign of life.
For Ken, this attitude remain an Oscar Wilde's short story The Sphinx without secret. They have mysterious deep & dark eyes, but inside, it's empty. Of course, Ken could choose a Western guy, but it's harder, most of them are in Bkk to keep a Thai boy so they don't take a look @ him.
Bangkok is quite a hard-boiled Wonderland. No real relatioship, no real love ( he suffered this), no real sex, no real tenderness... Pity !

Here, Wilde's text :

One afternoon I was sitting outside the Cafe de la Paix, watching the splendour and shabbiness of Parisian life, and wondering over my vermouth at the strange panorama of pride and poverty that was passing before me, when I heard some one call my name. I turned round, and saw Lord Murchison. We had not met since we had been at college together, nearly ten years before, so I was delighted to come across him again, and we shook hands warmly. At Oxford we had been great friends. I had liked him immensely, he was so handsome, so high-spirited, and so honourable. We used to say of him that he would be the best of fellows, if he did not always speak the truth, but I think we really admired him all the more for his frankness. I found him a good deal changed. He looked anxious and puzzled, and seemed to be in doubt about something. I felt it could not be modern scepticism, for Murchison was the stoutest of Tories, and believed in the Pentateuch as firmly as he believed in the House of Peers; so I concluded that it was a woman, and asked him if he was married yet.

'I don't understand women well enough,' he answered.

'My dear Gerald,' I said, 'women are meant to be loved, not to be understood.'

'I cannot love where I cannot trust,' he replied.

'I believe you have a mystery in your life, Gerald,' I exclaimed; 'tell me about it.'

'Let us go for a drive,' he answered, 'it is too crowded here. No, not a yellow carriage, any other colour--there, that dark green one will do'; and in a few moments we were trotting down the boulevard in the direction of the Madeleine.

'Where shall we go to?' I said.

'Oh, anywhere you like!' he answered--'to the restaurant in the Bois; we will dine there, and you shall tell me all about yourself.'

'I want to hear about you first,' I said. 'Tell me your mystery.'

He took from his pocket a little silver-clasped morocco case, and handed it to me. I opened it. Inside there was the photograph of a woman. She was tall and slight, and strangely picturesque with her large vague eyes and loosened hair. She looked like a clairvoyante, and was wrapped in rich furs.

'What do you think of that face?' he said; 'is it truthful?'

I examined it carefully. It seemed to me the face of some one who had a secret, but whether that secret was good or evil I could not say. Its beauty was a beauty moulded out of many mysteries--the beauty, in fact, which is psychological, not plastic--and the faint smile that just played across the lips was far too subtle to be really sweet.

'Well,' he cried impatiently, 'what do you say?'

'She is the Gioconda in sables,' I answered. 'Let me know all about her.'

'Not now,' he said; 'after dinner,' and began to talk of other things.

When the waiter brought us our coffee and cigarettes I reminded Gerald of his promise. He rose from his seat, walked two or three times up and down the room, and, sinking into an armchair, told me the following story:--

'One evening,' he said, 'I was walking down Bond Street about five o'clock. There was a terrific crush of carriages, and the traffic was almost stopped. Close to the pavement was standing a little yellow brougham, which, for some reason or other, attracted my attention. As I passed by there looked out from it the face I showed you this afternoon. It fascinated me immediately. All that night I kept thinking of it, and all the next day. I wandered up and down that wretched Row, peering into every carriage, and waiting for the yellow brougham; but I could not find ma belle inconnue, and at last I began to think she was merely a dream. About a week afterwards I was dining with Madame de Rastail. Dinner was for eight o'clock; but at half-past eight we were still waiting in the drawing-room. Finally the servant threw open the door, and announced Lady Alroy. It was the woman I had been looking for. She came in very slowly, looking like a moonbeam in grey lace, and, to my intense delight, I was asked to take her in to dinner. After we had sat down, I remarked quite innocently, "I think I caught sight of you in Bond Street some time ago, Lady Alroy." She grew very pale, and said to me in a low voice, "Pray do not talk so loud; you may be overheard." I felt miserable at having made such a bad beginning, and plunged recklessly into the subject of the French plays. She spoke very little, always in the same low musical voice, and seemed as if she was afraid of some one listening. I fell passionately, stupidly in love, and the indefinable atmosphere of mystery that surrounded her excited my most ardent curiosity. When she was going away, which she did very soon after dinner, I asked her if I might call and see her. She hesitated for a moment, glanced round to see if any one was near us, and then said, "Yes; to-morrow at a quarter to five." I begged Madame de Rastail to tell me about her; but all that I could learn was that she was a widow with a beautiful house in Park Lane, and as some scientific bore began a dissertation on widows, as exemplifying the survival of the matrimonially fittest, I left and went home.

'The next day I arrived at Park Lane punctual to the moment, but was told by the butler that Lady Alroy had just gone out. I went down to the club quite unhappy and very much puzzled, and after long consideration wrote her a letter, asking if I might be allowed to try my chance some other afternoon. I had no answer for several days, but at last I got a little note saying she would be at home on Sunday at four and with this extraordinary postscript: "Please do not write to me here again; I will explain when I see you." On Sunday she received me, and was perfectly charming; but when I was going away she begged of me, if I ever had occasion to write to her again, to address my letter to "Mrs. Knox, care of Whittaker's Library, Green Street." "There are reasons," she said, "why I cannot receive letters in my own house."

'All through the season I saw a great deal of her, and the atmosphere of mystery never left her. Sometimes I thought that she was in the power of some man, but she looked so unapproachable, that I could not believe it. It was really very difficult for me to come to any conclusion, for she was like one of those strange crystals that one sees in museums, which are at one moment clear, and at another clouded. At last I determined to ask her to be my wife: I was sick and tired of the incessant secrecy that she imposed on all my visits, and on the few letters I sent her. I wrote to her at the library to ask her if she could see me the following Monday at six. She answered yes, and I was in the seventh heaven of delight. I was infatuated with her: in spite of the mystery, I thought then--in consequence of it, I see now. No; it was the woman herself I loved. The mystery troubled me, maddened me. Why did chance put me in its track?'

'You discovered it, then?' I cried.

'I fear so,' he answered. 'You can judge for yourself.'

'When Monday came round I went to lunch with my uncle, and about four o'clock found myself in the Marylebone Road. My uncle, you know, lives in Regent's Park. I wanted to get to Piccadilly, and took a short cut through a lot of shabby little streets. Suddenly I saw in front of me Lady Alroy, deeply veiled and walking very fast. On coming to the last house in the street, she went up the steps, took out a latch-key, and let herself in. "Here is the mystery," I said to myself; and I hurried on and examined the house. It seemed a sort of place for letting lodgings. On the doorstep lay her handkerchief, which she had dropped. I picked it up and put it in my pocket. Then I began to consider what I should do. I came to the conclusion that I had no right to spy on her, and I drove down to the club. At six I called to see her. She was lying on a sofa, in a tea-gown of silver tissue looped up by some strange moonstones that she always wore. She was looking quite lovely. "I am so glad to see you," she said; "I have not been out all day." I stared at her in amazement, and pulling the handkerchief out of my pocket, handed it to her. "You dropped this in Cumnor Street this afternoon, Lady Alroy," I said very calmly. She looked at me in terror but made no attempt to take the handkerchief. "What were you doing there?" I asked. "What right have you to question me?" she answered. "The right of a man who loves you," I replied; "I came here to ask you to be my wife." She hid her face in her hands, and burst into floods of tears. "You must tell me," I continued. She stood up, and, looking me straight in the face, said, "Lord Murchison, there is nothing to tell you."--"You went to meet some one," I cried; "this is your mystery." She grew dreadfully white, and said, "I went to meet no one."--"Can't you tell the truth?" I exclaimed. "I have told it," she replied. I was mad, frantic; I don't know what I said, but I said terrible things to her. Finally I rushed out of the house. She wrote me a letter the next day; I sent it back unopened, and started for Norway with Alan Colville. After a month I came back, and the first thing I saw in the Morning Post was the death of Lady Alroy. She had caught a chill at the Opera, and had died in five days of congestion of the lungs. I shut myself up and saw no one. I had loved her so much, I had loved her so madly. Good God! how I had loved that woman!'

'You went to the street, to the house in it?' I said.

'Yes,' he answered.

'One day I went to Cumnor Street. I could not help it; I was tortured with doubt. I knocked at the door, and a respectable- looking woman opened it to me. I asked her if she had any rooms to let. "Well, sir," she replied, "the drawing-rooms are supposed to be let; but I have not seen the lady for three months, and as rent is owing on them, you can have them."--"Is this the lady?" I said, showing the photograph. "That's her, sure enough," she exclaimed; "and when is she coming back, sir?"--"The lady is dead," I replied. "Oh sir, I hope not!" said the woman; "she was my best lodger. She paid me three guineas a week merely to sit in my drawing-rooms now and then." "She met some one here?" I said; but the woman assured me that it was not so, that she always came alone, and saw no one. "What on earth did she do here?" I cried. "She simply sat in the drawing-room, sir, reading books, and sometimes had tea," the woman answered. I did not know what to say, so I gave her a sovereign and went away. Now, what do you think it all meant? You don't believe the woman was telling the truth?'

'I do.'

'Then why did Lady Alroy go there?'

'My dear Gerald,' I answered, 'Lady Alroy was simply a woman with a mania for mystery. She took these rooms for the pleasure of going there with her veil down, and imagining she was a heroine. She had a passion for secrecy, but she herself was merely a Sphinx without a secret.'

'Do you really think so?'

'I am sure of it,' I replied.

He took out the morocco case, opened it, and looked at the photograph. 'I wonder?' he said at last.

PS : the last paragraph is a really good definition of Thai guy, isn't it ?

You're in a Bad Way, a tribute.

2009-07-01T16:57:00.004+02:00

You're in a bad way, today. It's quite hard, you try to save your world and protect your friends. Sometimes, in a strange way, magic happens, but even if you keep on fighting you know he has already left. You cry for him, but it's useless. You know that only love can break your heart. When he's gone.
You're in a bad way. Of course, there are stars above us, stars to show us the point to reach, stars that give us hope when we fall, stars that remain that nothin' can stop us... but in vain.
You're in a bad way Ken. Every routine day, you kiss and make up, make yourself your own day 'cause you know nobody else can bring what you need, that nobody else can hug my soul. You're in a bad way when he's absent, when he's on the Net, when he's on the phone...
You're in a bad way Ken, and the boy is crying know. I remember how we used to live, and i cry. I cry and cry and cry all day... until'the day someone new make me happy. On Spring, perhaps. But now it's a forever Winter... A pale movie of your dreamin' life.
You're in a bad way Ken, but who do you think you are ? Nothin' but a thing that go straight on a sad sad road, under a pale moonlite.
You're in the bad way, my love, my friend, my bro, my all... Miss you. Ken is still worry about you... You're in a bad way, and only love can break your heart... Join our club.

A tribute to Saint Etienne.

Wake up in the middleday

2009-06-29T12:57:00.002+02:00

Wake up & get up in the middleday... another bad nite, Ken doesn't really now why. All seems so darkened and lulled in memories. It's plain to see L. left for so millions years ago.
Wake up & the head beats from part to part, and the heart screams to death from part to part. " Je suis seul à crever et je sais où vous êtes... Je voudrais arriver, je reste, je me déteste..."
Wake up, look in the mirror & what does he see...? Ken wonders if he's a real human being or just a sorta concept.He's not tall, not small. Neither thin nor fat, neither white nor black, neither dumb nor smart... He looks like nothin'else he knows. Just a "fountain of blood, in a shape of a boy"...
Wake up & cursed by the day, waintin' 4 the nite it comes with the rain. Alone in the dark, alone in the past. Ken would like to carry on, to find a way to smile a different way. But there's nothing good to be done 4 him.
Wake up, soon, on holidays. What will happen to Ken ? He doesn't give a fuck now. A brand new day is synonym of another nightmare. Illusions all day long, memories of merry past, merry loves, merry smiles.
Wake up in the middleday the heart broken from part to part.

***

Hier encore, je sentais ta voix, je touchais tes mots.
Et encore hier, je buvais tes mots.
Rien n'étais impossible, tout était à panser.
Dans les sentes, les jardins, les parcs les forêts,
Quand on se promenait.
Et puis tu es parti.
Depuis, tu es parti.

Hier encore, j'entendais tes bras, je sentais ton corps.
Hier encore, je goûtais ton corps.
Tout étais possible, on avait tout à écrire,
Dans les rires, dans le pire, les toujours, les jamais.
Quand on se regardait.
Et puis tu es parti.
Depuis tu es parti.

Hier encore, je buvais tes mots et je goûtais ton corps.
Tout ça, je le faisais hier encore.
Maintenant,aujourd'hui, à cette heure de la nuit,
Puisque tout ça est mort,
Moi je dors, je dors, je dors.
Depuis que tu es parti,
Encore et encore.

"Chansons pour Louis", "Futurs", extrait

No sex in the city

2009-06-21T18:07:00.003+02:00

Every single day, every single conversation i have now is about sex. Perhaps, i'm very careful because i'm now single, but all is about frustation for my girls in Thailand. None of them have a real sexual relationship because all the male foreigners fall upon thai girls, and all the thai males are too frail for a frenchwoman.
So, let's talk about no sex in the city. Why sexual relashionships are so difficult in Thailand ? It's so natural and so easy in western part of the world. And every try is as vain as the worst play written by a drunk writter. But, back to me, let's focus on gay relashionships.

One nite, after work, a young 30 yo guy went and visited a friend with a colleague. Here, he met a guy, straight, but with a weak heart. The 30 yo guy ( let's called our hero Ken) felt the pressure between the guy and his girlfriend. Very friendly, Ken proposed a blow job in the guy's room. Of course, the other guy refused. Some men can't have sex if they don't ask themselves. Poor them. But, very brave, Ken asked his colleague the phone of the guy in order to strike again later... the same nite. The Lady obeyed and 1 hour later Ken sent a sms " Please, come now i wanna empty your balls", explicit lyrics. No answer, obviously. The day after, Ken got a sms from the Lady who felt sorry : she sent the wrong number... and you know what, she sent the number of another colleague @ school...

Days passed, and Ken felt ready for socialize with a new boy. He put his best cloth on and make up and went to the shop where the boy works. Just a little stress before the confession, Ken called the Lady ( the same, she is a curse !!) to get stronger. He finally made for the boy but here... everything became so confused. Ken could not speak in thai ( didn't know why), and try in english with his worst expression. " I wanna know you... This is my card..." but the card didn't remove from the box... sticked in the bag by a strange spell... Seconds went by and Ken felt himself red and ashamed, speaking in french ( his worst expression, one more time!). Suddenly, the card gushed from the box. " This is my msn, my name 4 facebook and my phone"... tears in the eyes and trembling voice. The boy only answered 3 cruel " khrap"...

PS : on this day, Ken also exploded a bottle of soja sauce in a restaurant and also burnt himself with hot water @ home...

Of course, when nobody looks @ you, you feel so invisible. When only your friends look @ you, you feel so pityful. When only your dog does ot, you feel so dead... But when You look 4 someone and there's no answer and you act in vain... you just wanna hide your face away.
And one day, a guy look @ you... Je t'attends.

Message in a Bottle

2009-06-11T18:30:00.004+02:00

Perhaps this letter will never arrive on the shores. Perhaps you will never read it...
Perheps it's better, perhaps not.
I'm now praying that you'll realize that i was the best person in your life. I can't bet it, so blind you are. It's plain to see you were made for me and i was made for you. But you still face the problems the same way : it's all about you and you don't even care about us.
It's sad, but that's the way you like it. I have to admit, you have to redeem. But can't you understand this situtation, so selfish you are.
Be happy, be briliant because nobody but you can't have any importance in your eyes... None of us, not even me, your family, so traitor you are.

Yes, perhaps once you'll read this message in the bottle. I can say it won't be too late to come back to me. But i can't promise i'll wait for you... I'll make you coming back from Hell i pushed you once.

Of course, i have to stand your backstabbing... and i want to. Because it's make me happier in a ( weird ) way : the worst you were, the most dead i felt... But there's a hope in my eyes. Sad, until one day that i'll stand on my legs, and i'll put my head on. For now, i'm just a worm, lost here. Because of you, so coward you are.
It's pityful to explain such anger, but it's a relief. The most i hate, the most i live. Until the end of the hole when i'll rise again and i'll fuck it up...

It's a message in the bottle. Perhaps nobody will read it. Perhaps it'll never reach any shore. Lost in the ocean of tears.
But this letter had to be written and thrown tonite. Because of you, so missing.

Liar

2009-06-09T08:08:00.002+02:00

You look so peaceful, pretending there's nothing you need to live, so calm & quiet when evrything around us shivers and seems to be threaten.

You, liar, you only show what you want to show. What you aim is a secret, a code i have to decipher. So, you successively can be fine, primitive, classic & modern. You're a master of desguise. I now realize that, all these years, i did not really understand you as you were ( as you are, and you will be), as you deserve...

You liar, in your secret garden, there's a colorful hidden chest, full of shapes and technics. In a blink of an eye, in the sounds of silence, here you stand... On the walls, on the streets, on the dreams... In a room full of gap, in a heart full of black...
You liar... You're so meaningless, but when you try to speak you say to much or not enough. When you try to justify your act you become useless. I love you because you're nothing but beauty, nothing but a dream, nothing but an ideal life. That's why you are a liar... Figure yourself such an evidence, you're nothing untill i name you, you don't even exist until i see you.

You, art.

Another Day in Paradise...

2009-06-02T19:05:00.002+02:00

Wake up Ken, it's time to go. Take a shower, pack your purse and run Ken, run.
Today's not like other days. It's a special occasion. You woke up in the morning and realize you're now all alone for, at least, a big time. Big time sensuality ? You don't know. You run.
And all breaks down, your pain is universal, but only yours now... Nobody but you, Ken, nobody can understand.
Many cries, so many tears... And vodka, and other, running like rivers.
One eye is now opened... You feel better ? Take a shower and pack your purse, it's time to go & work. Make your special smile, face the students... Because you make their morning. They came for you... Others leave you, some come to you. It's difficult to understand.
Last nite, your bootie call phoned many times... 'Ken, miss U', finally wrote the boy. But Ken was slept... deep, very deep among the nightmares... And in the morning, Ken takes a shower and pack his purse. It's another day in Paradise.

" Encore une fois, je suis cassé, encore une fois, je n'y crois pas... "

So, keep'on running because long is the way to Paradise. And you wonder why you're crying ... because of loneliness, because of his selfishness, because of scare of tomorrow ? Finally you don't really know why. But every nite, like a secret preach, you do it again, thinkin' about tomorrow. 'Here he comes, the young man carbuncular, "Le garçon délabré qui n'a rien à faire que de se gratter les doigts et se pencher sur mon épaule...", the whore, the Nancy boy...

Ken read somewhere that " April is the cruellest month"... May, June are the brothers, before summer comes, and Ken thinks they're the same. Far from home, from him... instead of love, there's nothin' but nothingness...

Another day in Paradise, Ken, pack your purse. Because tonite is a promise of another drunk, another fuck... Somethin' borrowed, somethin' rotten... " Et ceci dans l'air d'un peu vain, de candide..."

Another day in Paradise... is the secret key of an happy tomorrow. So, take your glam, take your heart and let this blowin' in the wind.
After all, tomorrow's another day, another day, another day...

Blank in the city...

2009-06-01T13:21:00.002+02:00

Almost 15 days, Ken lives alone in the city... L. left. Farewell the good times they shared. Blank in the city...

Today is the first Ken leaves home to go in the city. Days before, he drank as soon as he came back home after work. Workin' drinkin' sleepin'... Too bad. Almost 15 days. For a new start in the city, Ken decides to change something. So he goes for an eyes make up and he likes that. The contact with others is finally not that bad. Of course, these last few days, he did not always sleep alone. Quick drunk, quick fuck for a quick tenderness. But in the morning, blank in the city...

Everyday's lulled by a slow melody. Everything seems so slow. Everyone acts like ghosts. Ken feels like is faded to grey, is faded away. " Always stays the same, nothing never changes... ", nothin' but a blank in the city...

Ken knows well it's time to carry on. Put the head on. Everybody around him repeats phrases like a spell, " & tomorrow will be better ". Ken lives with tears, stress & sorrow. Tears for water, stress for flowers, sorrow for vase. Bouquet of pain during classes, all nite long, day after day. Bouquet of pain because there's no more together, today or tomorrow. So L. " je vous envoie un bouquet..." et tout le gouspin pour que tu comprennes... Mais tu comprendras rien de toute façon. Tu crois que tu comprends avant les autres, mais tu sais même pas parler. Just some good memories here & there and a blank in the city...

The only thing you can rely on is that you can't rely on anything...

Blog'n the Cities

When Peter meets Cindy

Lost in translations... again

Vir Eroticus

Happy New Years

Enchanted interlude; a modern fairytale

Post sex blue

Heal the World, my ass !

3

Lonely Planet

'Till the World Ends

Radiant Mythology; thanx Mircea Eliade

Alice in Borderline

All the modern sins...

My post blue...

Final Fantasy

どこいるの？

Hip-hop

In limbo

We need you... another syndrom

The Savior

Decay "--de"

Da capo, a tribute

Ken version 2.0 一人で遊ぶ

Love me, sex me...

Meds

Celebrity Skins or when i hate masses...

4 minutes to read the post

The Coffee syndrome

The Placebo....

Unglorious bastards

Causin'a commotion

Abnormally attracted to Sin

Sex on 57

Straight right to the past, an evanescent guy

Frances Farmer will have her revenge on Seattle

Shopping in the cities

Happy New Years

Buy Me

2010 Outcome

Let's build a home, Innuendo

Sky My Husband...

Autism...

J'ai le Blou de toi...

The Peter Pan syndrom revisited

S'il vous plaît, dessine-moi un mouton

Strange Little Houses

Megalomania

From a.m. to p.m.

止められない TABOO

Can make U happy

Happy anniversary; socialize myself !

Kid of the 80's

Past < FUTURE

Love is the enemy

Notorious D.I.C.K.

In bed with...

Marches and rallies : my Bangkok is burning me !

3

State of Independance

Sexcrimes

Stay Tuned

Pagan Poetry

Togayther in electric dream

Deadline, a social love

ミラクル・ロマンス

Midnite mail

The show must go on...

Joy-stick

"X"periment

Smells like teen spirit

Glam Boy'

C'est un putain...

Macadam Cowboy

Interview...

Love love mode ... accessories

Paradize (Just 4 Me)

Eve

Innocent blood

"WIN" Words

止められない　TABOO