Diary entry, august 16th 2013

Strange, very strange summer. Its start was pretty badass, with London and Star Trek and Andrew and all, July was rather quiet, and August is fast and tough.

You may-or may not-have noticed that the last few posts were all about pesting and moaning and raging against fandoms of all sorts. Musers have lost it, the Benedict surroundings are being pretty fucked up too, and as for the latest addition to my very reduced list of beloved actors-Zachary Quinto-it has been quite bumpy and stupid too. And don’t get me started on White Lies fans…It is like fandoms feels the urge to misbehave at their own rythm and style, eventually. And it is really, really exhausting.

I am walking on a thin line, lately. For several reasons. My oh-so adorable mother has decided to fuck me up once again, wich is something I can fight and battle alone, but added to a whole lot of other things, I don’t fucking know. And my health is slowly but surely getting worst, feeding with stress a condition that didn’t needed that to be worrying already. So it is kinda hard to get my head out of the water on a persistent way. I’m taking things one day at a time, and figure things out like this. The past three months have all been stained with pain crisis and external manifestations of what is hitting me. More than it has in six years altogether. I knew it would happen, I would not get cured magically, but it does not make it less scary or less painful. A lot of things are going on inside of my head, and I can’t quite get it tidy and ordered.

I am lucky. The most important thing of my little world is being a fantastic addition to it, thing that I knew already, but he’s been a very good companion so far, and my love and faith into him is only growing stronger movie after movie. He’s possibly one of the funniest, most interesting human being, and I have been getting the feeling that he follows me lately, since I work a lot with the fantastic team of Cumberbatch France on several interviews, and drowning myself into it and laughing and adoring him even more line after line is quite a delicious feeling. Since I am surrounded by extraordinary fans, those with a strong head and a smart heart, things are going easily, smoothly, and I don’t really care, personaly, about the dramas and all. I am with the best bunch of fans ever and it is a bliss to evolve and get to know him without the constant fandom parasite. And even when he’s not making the smartest of choices, I don’t really care. I’m mentally shaking him a little before running back towards him and digging more and more his talent. He is this year’s gift, and if things goes well, he’s my decade’s treasure.

Yes. Finally. I had left my blissful discover of his talent away for a few weeks, but I came back to it last week, and I’m going for something like one per week. And last week was Hawking.

Why am I going so slowly ? Well. Let’s just say that I am often left speechless and moved and facing an ocean of emotions, and it is not that easy to handle. That is why he is *that* important. Not anyone can do that. Actually, no one else can go this far into the feeling process.

So, yeah, Hawking. Even if I was a bit lost with an edit that was, in my opinion, a bit rough, Benedict was beyond fantastic, but it can’t be a surprise, not anymore, can it ? I don’t know what I’ve loved the most. Probably his way of showing that beyond his condition, Hawking was and still is one hell of a brillant mind, and you can almost guess the storm in Ben’s eyes. Actors are usually liars, they are paid to make you believe they are someone they aren’t, but Benedict is one of the only actors who are not lying. He is absolutely into the character, and that’s when the magic happens. And with him, magic always happens. That’s why it is so great to have him around. He’s a constant surprise, a permanent delight. His talent is not only a matter of work, intelligence and luck. It is an actual gift.

I have watched War Horse too. Well, the movie was a bit dull, nothing quite unexpecte or surprising in there, and clearly, 15 minutes of Ben are not enough for me. It was a nice movie, but not one that will left me shaking and breathless. Spielberg should have used him more than just the few sequences shown, and I was clearly pissed we never knew how the character ended. Prisoner ? Killed ? No idea. Not without taking a little bit the piss, I heard myself saying “well, he should have given to him the horse’s part”. He would probably have made a better horse than the horse himself

Well…that is one other side of the story of this month, and it is not the best part, to say the least. White Lies.

Big TV is five days old now, and half of it is genius (first half). The second one is a bit…Meh. I will probably get into it later on, but as of now, it is like the album is a six track EP since I have those six tracks on repeat since monday.

As expected, the charts are tragic out there. 211 for the deluxe edition and 294 for the regular on itunes. There was one only interview on Obskure, and that’s it. But I don’t worry anymore. France never made a difference, and it is not going to start now. They don’t do anything to help, mind.

Things would go quite easily if I did not thought that they are turning into a stubborn bunch of spoilt idiots. What happens on twitter lately is pointless and give me the feeling that they don’t give a flying fuck to people, like, true people. Fans. And it’s not even the feeling of being royally ignored here (and not having one single reaction when you tweet them their face on the front cover of a french magazine is quite ironic), there is also a matter of them fucking up the oldest fans. They encouraged people to beg for a follow, tonight. I just feel like they need to grow up and mature a little bit, and I am bittersweet because I know it is just a matter of years and settle down. I’ll just be patient, and hope that the fandom is not going to go more off the rails that it already does.

Yes, yes, yes. This is Zachary Quinto, latest and very proud addition to my own top three of the best actors ever. Providing Ben is out of the top three since he is a living miracle, Zach is on his way to reach the highest position. He is ridiculously good.

I mean, he and me were not really meant to be friends, but thanks to Benedict, I’ve seen Star Trek, and noticed that he is one hell of a Spock. So, we’ve been catching back on his carreer, and the least I can say is that he is amazing, both as an actor and as producer.

No need to come back on AhS, the long article earlier this months betrays me on the subject. As Oliver Thredson, he is absolutely fantastic.

We got him on short movies here and there, sometimes as a comedy role, sometimes not, but he is always great.

We’ve started Heroes too. Sylar is one hell of a villain, he’s bloody scary. I love how he can go from being a good idiot to a bad smartass in a second.

 

And we’ve seen Margin Call, his first actual movie as a producer, which was one terrible yet perfect experience as a watcher. Story how about traders fuck this world up, with some of the best actors ever in there (Kevin Spacey, Jeremy Irons, Paul Bettany, etc…) I just could not advice people enough to watch it. An incredible movie.

It is nice, and I like the character too. He’s a charity man, like, he does a lot for the gay cause and for animals too, he is pretty sweet and fun, and he is very straightforward and honest, which is rare. Plus his instagram account is the nicest collection of daily captures I’ve seen in a long time. It is a delight. The pretty cherry on top of my very Benedict cake.

See, as ever, things are floating, sometimes on troubled waters, sometimes not, but the one thing I am sure of is that I keep fighting really hard to make sure things are going the right way. Well, maybe not the right way, but one way anyway. And it’ll be the right one, eventually, because I don’t have that much of a choice.

Life goes on [en V.O 6]

Well, haven’t posted in a little while, have I ? I’ve reached a hundred posts, job done.

Not that easy. Anyway, I’m back !

Had last week and this week end a rough patch. My mood is rather fabulous, it is my health that is going off the rails quite badly, but I did warned you about it all, right ? So no tears or insane worries. It’s just the way it should be. I’m celebrating the brave and freaky sixth anniversary of the “I give you two weeks top” thing next month (yes, it is an actual anniversary of mine, I’m *that* creepy within myself) so once again, telling the story, but not complaining. Aside from pain. I complain a lot about pain, but if you never had a twisted ovary, then you don’t know how much this thing can just dry out everything, energy, will to fight, even strength to think. I have people I genuinely dislike a lot, or even, for some of them, hate, and even to them, I would not wish this thing for the world. No one deserves this.

During major pain crisis, I still wonder what the hell did I do wrong to deserve this. I’d give up for surgery in a second, dropping therefore all of my fears of not waking up and dying on an operating table. Which would be one hell of a loser’s death. I am sick and I carry on the consequences it can drag with it only during those moments. The rest of the time, I simply genuinely forget.

So, yeah, tough week. I think I’m back from it, once again, one more time, and I fight hard for it not to be the last one. I have a couple of tests to make in the foreseeable future, and I can’t and don’t expect them to be good. Where I am now, I’m just hoping for a not-too-bad issue.

 

Aside from that, I’m back on a writing mode. First time in months…Actually, first time since the storm has put one hell of a mess in my life.

vi, c’est toi la tempête. Pardis.

Once more, I was planning on speaking about something, then I illustrate my thoughts with him and therefore screw up my own concentration, feel like someone has turned the heater on and if I keep on playing that game, at some point there will be shivers.

It’s been months, now, since I figured it all out, and it’s still having an effect on me that goes wayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy beyond anything normal. And I don’t even play a freakin groupie game, nope, too old for that shit, no, it is th actual state of “this guy has so much talent we will NEVER have enough time in ONE LIFE to reach a tenth of it”. And the worst part of it being…That I did not went further into my treasure folder. Nope ! The only thing Benedict-related (aside from breathing, which seems to be very Ben related lately) I have done since London is Star Trek take 4. And for the fourth time, I was stunned, mind blown, and ended up the thing half alive, trying to convince myself that he is not fucking human to have such an indecent level of talent.

Tu l’as dit, patate.

The thing is : I ALREADY KNOW THAT. So now I am in the absolutely thrilling moment where I have to decide where I am going next. And the mass of emotions, possible tears, and general body failure facing such a fantastic talent. It’s a wonder how my brain still works, after all, I spend my days being slapped in the head, a slap worth a coma.

On the human side of the subject though : look at that.

Incognito a Glasto. Et ça rime.

 

Moins incognito et toujours aussi fluffy aux Rolling Stones à Hyde Park. Fanboy, va.

I totally adore those pictures because they are just illustrating my point. Despite that insane level of talent, he is so normal. No weird behaviour, no pretending to be someone he is not, no expressions of an oversized ego. He is so…Boy next door, it is extremely comforting, as a fan. I’m done with oversized egos and twats and people behaving like the world owe them something. Benedict is not perfect, and that’s what is making him so perfect for me. Plus, seriously, how cool does he looks like ? Seriously, look at him. You got to love him even more (if it was even possible, which I sort of doubt)

sisisisisisisi c’est le même mec. Il est fort, hein ?

 

One day there’ll be a Ben-less post. I swear. My epitath, I suppose ? Not even, he’ll be somewhere on there too. He’s just something in my life that is both so logic and so exciting. Something I can really, blindly, rely on. A blessing.

 

Oh.

Oh.

OOOOh.

You know, I have this crazy deadline, the one with crazy requirements in terms of signs number, and I was due to make a cut.

Well, I decided not to make a cut, but to rewrite a large part of it. So that’s why I’m awake at 4 with my current shaky health. I was with Matt and Melinda. I’m rewriting their story. And it is crazy. And absolutely extraordinary to do. It’s like I have learnt from their lives what I should not do, what need to get deleted, and how things needs to be rephrased. So, without changing their story, I just feel like I’m giving it the best impulse, not just a good one. And it is thrilling and exhilarating. And fantastic. I love it so much.

Un morceau de la nouvelle version. 

See, things are going pretty well, after all. If we forget the fact that from tomorrow on, I won’t be able to see STID on my local cinema anymore.

And that sucks

 

 

Update de vie 19/02/2013

Rien dit depuis un moment. Hmmm.

• Peut être parce que je me bat avec des émotions que je n’ai pas envie d’étaler en long, large et travers. Comme celles de renoncer à quelque chose que je veux très fort au profit de quelqu’un qui le veut plus encore. Aucune envie de m’apitoyer sur mon sort, alors je ne parle pas du tout. Peut être. 
• Ou peut être parce que je fais le ménage de printemps dans ma vieille caboche cabossée. Je fais le tri, je range, déplace, remplace, répare. Ca ne fait pas de mal.
• Peut être encore que c’est du a mon emprise folle et réciproque sur X Files, depuis le temps. D’ailleurs, axyaimeXFiles.wordpress.com. Pour éviter de trop décaper le journal au profit du blog de fan, et vice-versa.
• Je réecris le roman. Pour concours. Peut être que ma chance est là. Peut être.
• Fatigue. Grande fatigue. Immense, même. Et puis migraines. Sacrées migraines.
• Muse et moi qui avons décidé, d’un commun accord, de vivre sur deux continents différents et de ne plus nous adresser la parole. Enfin, moi, j’ai décidé de ne plus le faire. De deceptions en deceptions, je finis par ôter des fragments de platine de mon coeur blessé. A force de les ôter, je vais faire sauter le point de compression de l’artère, et en crever. Personne ne peut mesure comme cela me fait mal. Ma rousse, peut être.

 

De tous les constats de cette année, ma foi plutôt douce, même si tortueuse et complexe, c’est que grandir demande à la fois une force et une folie que je me réjouis d’avoir, mais demain continue de me faire peur. Mes démons sont à la porte, à peine chassés, et bien que je sois armée à nouveau de deux forces qui ont fait beaucoup, je ne sais pas combien de temps je peux les retenir dehors.