Project Talk.

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Ten out of three hundred and sixty countries on this planet, are not fighting a conflict. As we speak there are rather reasons for violence, than proof of peaceful actions.

Culture of war gathers global truth on the way to the existing century. My army is throwing me firsthand, on the premises of research, at the wolves of urban biological warfare. Some would ask. How could I have volunteered for such a fight? Saving the world is dangerous endowment. Lots of people have said, this seems far more profitable than peace. We are talking about saving people’s lives. Our ways of living are so intricated with conflictual politics. Not to mention the profits gained from these battles. Profits which allowed all of us in the west, survival for the past hundred years. For a long time, before we were counting night and day. As far as history takes us, and beyond. Preceding thieves and prostitutes. There have been men protecting land and its habitants. On the day humanity was born, some endorsed the role of soldiers. The legacy of it is felt individually, as a trend of our time. We cannot even imagine Peace. Around a planet which gives Tyrans and injustices, all the choices. But to fight, wars that are so unpredictably recent, leaves no childhood to the kids. Some countries are historical enemies, oponants, some fights are nationwide. When yours is precisely home. To determine a winner is not a quality of it. It usually goes on, until there are no more battlegrounds. Or, in the event where the army takes over the Law. The moment it had occurred to me, has being at a new frontline, happened in the late 1990s. After they had transported me to an Oxygenated room, I woke and walked out. A nice officer slowing down, offered to take me to town. I was around 25 minutes from the nearest center and 2 hours from my home in the city. From there, they categorized me missing. It took another six months before I would show, for a follow up appointment. This time at the Downtown Program of Intensive Care, section Homeless Intervention. From there the drugs were upgraded. For what is design, to be Active and In Action. But then, distant voices and souvenirs kicked in. The Officer who decided my faith, has been transfered to Car Thief and Burglery Sections. 

Choosing A Diet.

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What I preferred, is getting passionate about tons of things. My devotion for Chess and New York City, has brought me into passionate discussions with my ex-boyfriend. My taste for the green color shades is renowned. I like raw foods above all; Ceviche, Carpaccio, Sashimi, Tartare… The appreciation I have for my own parallel life, in dreams, makes me a little bit lunatic at times. With his three years old mental age, I understand my cat is a toddler. I care for my spouse as if my life depended on it. Reading and writing is my whole life.  

  • Nevertheless, the fuss around my mental health, have felt like torture for a long time. 
  • Over here it’s a Zoo. At every corner you find a uniform cop for traffic. On Ste-Helen’s Island, its Fireworks all summer long. The cars race from the suburb to downtown, and back. Teachers and nurses are striking for better pay.  

PTSD.

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My memories are sharp and limpid. My conscience is closer to a vivid dream than reality. Sometimes, a white curtain of frost seems to float in the room. Most days, I avoid going out of my home. It is my whole universe held between those walls. The ambiance is the one of souvenirs, recollection of events, good and bad luck, it is a tribute to my past experiences. Therefore, I would consider the flat my own private paradise.  

Chapter Two 

What we created here, this bubble, helped me get over a lot. The sick, exhausting, lowlife part of this illness can be bad. Nightmares are the worse. Along with a crazy impression. Where I believed in a supernatural force, replacing the people around me with counterfeit.  

Gypsies paying rent.

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My entire family had left town. My mom bought an apartment in what reassembles a Paris Cité complex. My dad rents a large, high end, expensive flat in a new construction with view on the autoroute. My stepdad moved into a small modern house, on the north shore. My brother purchases his first home at forty years old, deep into the suburbia cliché. But my half and me, we stayed. We choose the city center, partly because we are refusing to get a car, for different ethical reasons. Mainly, we like the urban feeling. It tends to remind me of any other exotic places. I can pray to be in Europe, America or Asia, to be downtown his like the center of the universe. Certainly, the world looks smaller from this point of view. There is a small piece of space in this, which I know is at peace. Within the noisy city, we created a retreat made of heaven. My main occupation has been to keep it safe and sound. 

Hell’s Kitchen Theory.

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Chapter four 

Then, the millennium, a fight started. It was as ugly as it gets; a psywar that is intended to take over. From America to the latest refuge in Asia, all the way to recluse Africa and civil-war, Middle East. Someting to discourage the crowds. In the only advantage an army has been found. The soldiers are following the path of a fragile economy. Considering political leaders have truth tellers. Incidents happened. Only overtaking the future of citizens. Demanding more than a couple of tanks in the streets. The ruling of any war is far beyond what we expected of a deployment of forces. It is usually about how stressful daily life can turn out to be. Creating the kind of basis which only futuristic views on conflicts will explain. This machine, this imposed worry, will change lives as it did in the past. It would take other appearances as we move toward an era where war does not traditionally mean armed conflict. Especially in the west, the second millennium seems to bring to humankind more surveillance, more multi-cultural issues, more citizens disapproval. My Country sends soldiers anywhere from Africa to peacekeeping missions all over. Its beliefs are democracy, capitalism, local entrepreneurship, free health care, fair trade, decent housing. Above all, its goal is for the citizens to keep spending, putting every cent back into the economy. Therefore, the government itself pumps a lot of funds, distributed among start-ups, ngo, multinationals and individuals. It was not this sort of fight, which can make you a soldier. At the most, you could be an advocate for a cause. Liberal ideas ruled here, doctors and lawyers were your decision makers. Evil meets new opponents, who are mostly innocent victims of its taste for control. 

Chapter five 

  • Efficient, your turn Mivan. 

About telling the truth: My life has brought me to war, since. My experience remained misunderstood. We do it, otherwise we do not like it.  

  • Pleasure at war includes my own city, political gossip, living in hiding.  
  • You have travelled a lot before. 
  • As a kid my father had taken me, to Europe and South America. Later I made my way to New York and, returned, returned, returned…  

Around, seventeen was the time I started travelling alone. Way before being diseased and way after, I visited the South of the border. I made friends with who, we spent many adventures together. Most of them have moved on. Myself as well, nothing in the life with Him, resembles my old existence.    

She Haz is a cop, with problems  who are covering a deficit of goods.  Besides, the only wrong ideas about them, are Envy, Jalousy, Covet, Money, Passion.