Bon Jovi was like my secret mentor.
In the morning, I would get up at 5:30 AM, do floor exercises, and always start with Bon Jovi’s songs, particularly my favorite one: "This House Is Not for Sale."
It reminded me of all the hassles I had gone through in that house for twenty years, but now it was mine and I was going to live there for the rest of my days, every day, without ever being able to leave.
Oh no.
Oh no, I won't stay stuck between these four walls ad vitam æternam. No! I was going to become like Bon Jovi! I was going to sell just one little song, and I would be popular like him! I promised myself that.
And that’s how the exercises piled up. I was determined to lose weight and write, like Bon Jovi, hits.
Bon Jovi’s energizing songs gave me the courage to continue what I was going to undertake, something phenomenal.
But while doing my exercises, I was learning: I wasn't just listening to the melody, but the lyrics, the rhythm, the word cuts, the beats, the music, the drum and bass guitar jams. Ah, that music was so vibrant.
Then, I would go have breakfast.
I had already tried writing with one application; I was so afraid of losing everything.
Before getting in touch with Bon Jovi, in March, I had written: "J'en ai marre" (I’m fed up), which reflected my state of mind after deciding to retire. I was fed up with everything.
And I had written "On est ce qu’on est" (We are what we are). Two cool little songs. And "Stranger."
On one app, and everything had been screwed up. It wasn't tip-top.
So, I started with another application: Mureeka.
But yes. The strong woman from the Gospel had to learn everything without a tutorial, nothing. You figure it out, and that's it. The site was even under construction, no interface.
In short, there were issues with the United States, and I had decided to write a patriotic song.
I was going, we weren't going—the entire Canada wasn't going to let itself be taken advantage of. So, I had written a song.
Except for the snag: I didn't have a good video. Mureeka gave me mediocre videos. I was writing super beautiful lyrics, but they gave me awful videos. Totally irrelevant, not at all. I had to make my own videos, but I didn't have the programs to edit videos, collage photos, and add my music. No, that wasn't possible. And, for crying out loud, I don't know why they didn't recognize my music.
And I was writing on a cell phone. It was frustrating in the end.
But I had my daily appointment every morning with Bon Jovi. I would watch his video and listen to his songs, and that gave me the strength to continue.
If I could only make one song...
I would write my song on scraps of paper. Then on Note in Samsung, then I would paste my song onto Mureeka. Then, I would spend long days choosing the rhythm.
How do you tell Artificial Intelligence what you want?
So, I had to ask Gemini to look at my song and it would tell me the beat my song might have, but it didn't work. First, writing in two languages doesn't work. Writing in French, even less. The application's program wasn't up to par.
So, the only thing left was to state my case.
Nothing was working.
But the process was also full of life, despite the technical snags. I would spend long evenings rewriting my songs. This music, although created with difficulty, was not incomplete: it reflected exactly my state of mind. It allowed me to put everything into song—all these emotions anchored inside me for dozens and dozens of years, never voiced out loud. Everything I wanted to express, especially at work where we always had to smile and say thank thank you, even if we were sick of cleaning up messes, even if we were sick of eating next to the toilets... All these repressed emotions poured out in my songs. I was filled with an incomparable joy and satisfaction. Despite the fact that I didn't have a real band, I was blown away by the result. And after those long hours, I would let it all out: I would dance or sing at the top of my lungs while washing the dishes, turning my kitchen into a concert hall.
And the choice of singers... ah, so difficult and never to my taste. You can spend years refining your song, but I didn't have time.
I was going to die, I was old! I wanted to live today, not tomorrow.
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