Im in Montreal now. Im in Montreal and I have no clue of how I got here. I know that I’ve been working on something for so long that it’s expected to eventually hit a dream land like Montreal. I’m in a bar at the moment. It’s called Majestique. I haven’t slept that much in the last 3 days since I’ve been on 4 flights since the day before yesterday. Sleeping in a different city every night. Yesterday somebody asked me if I was jet lagged. I don’t know. I don’t know if when I’m tired it’s cause of jet lag or cause I haven’t slept that much at all. I was in Barcelona a week ago and then LA and now I’m here, Montreal. I didn’t know I was going to be speaking so much french… I’m glad I studied it in school. I’ve been encountering nothing but friendly people, beautiful minds and frankly just a breath of fresh air since you can just talk to someone here. No expectations. Just a friendly chat. There’s a lot of places on earth that you can talk to people. Not where I live. Specially not my neighborhood. I live in Hollywood. The land of broken and sometimes… very rarely, built dreams. A place where you get jaded just from striking up a conversation. People are “fake polite” as I like to call it. A coworker taught me that term. Is the term where you are fake “cool” just cause that’s “good manners” cause god forbid someone thinks you’re an asshole. Ive decided to actually loose that fake politeness. Of course it sticks on you. LA is a place of such transitional people that you encounter so many different cultures you don’t know what to adapt to. You’re adapting to one culture one second and another culture next second. At the end everyone just adapts to their own thoughts and in that process loose sight of how to be kind to other people. Also everyone spreads there selves too thin around this place. It’s just the way the system is built here. People are so jaded, distracted, lost in their thoughts in this city. Ive opened the door for so many women that walk by and don’t even acknowledge the entity that open the door for them. I guess the door just magically opened for them cause they’re soooo worth it “not”. In my culture… forget it. I’m sure you understand. Why explain? Truth is I understand why women act that way as well. Men in LA are so aggressive on so many levels it’s just normal that a girl simply looks at you and sees you as another douche bag that speaks well at first and then thinks that calling women bitches and talks about rap and money all day is cool. Or even worst. Sees women as an object to hibernate their genitals into for 30 seconds and walk away… an imitation of a man. Oooooor maybe just a boy becoming a man. It might be a man in process. Everyone learns their shit. EVERYONE. Anyway back to Montreal. I’m in a bar, the girl serving me is cute. People here are different. There’s a mix of culture. European and American. (American as the continent ) its surprisingly natural and conservative and free at the same time. It’s nice. It’s refreshing. You know what I wish? It’s simple. I wish this girl would give me one hint of liking me or being attracted to me. Whatever. So I could just end the night smelling her hair, kissing her lips, feeling her skin and falling into deep sleep. Waking up, looking into her eyes and knowing that what I just lived was an experience. One worth while. One worth remembering. One worth talking about maybe,Cause most of the times it is. Not because of bragging. Because of sharing what experiencing a person is. Did you know people, sex, conversations, food, are just experiences? Experiencing with your senses… and you put the label on them. Good, bad, so so, never again, more please.
What if it all was just … what it was. No labels. Just what it was. Experience.
Like Montreal. It’s an experience…
Just asked her for her name. It’s Marie Anne. In my language and country that translates to Mariana. The name of the first two girls in my life that had such an impact I genuinely thought I was going to marry them. I don’t believe in signs though. When it comes to that, it’s a simple coincidence… I guess. I don’t know. Of course hers is in french so it sounds…different. It sounds like an experience… i love experiences. But how to stop at, the sound of your name as an experience when I know there is so much more… anyway, everyone knows that the true story of tonight is that I leave here go home and have a good night sleep. Get up and go to my meetings tomorrow. Hopefully get some good results. Which Ive been getting lately. An extremely good response since I’ve been here. So… Montreal. Montreal huh? The land of the 40 above and 40 below.
Maybe that’s where it has to end…That experience of leaving the bar only knowing her name.
Maybe knowing her name in itself is an experience…
Maybe the whole feeling of wanting and not getting to know more, is the experience.
One second… she just asked me something.
Yes, old fashioned , thank you.
God her eyes… she’s not even my type you know? But they never are… I’m so picky.
But what new experience is going to be your type?
Her name + 2 Old Fashioned = $28
This is the last chance!
Hey, I will come here more often for work but would like to maybe keep contact? I think you’re very pretty and since I’m coming here often it would be cool to know someone…
With a French accent : what’s your name?
Well if you’re going to be coming back Nicolas, you know where to find me… drink this… you’re welcome.
What an experience.