Howling at the lost sense and last tree in my brain
Every word you never said becomes a final fact
My breath stops filling my lungs
(I hate when that happens)
Whispers; loud and clear, turning into clouds
Thoughts are colliding with the edge of my spiralling circles
The voices stop dancing with my mind
(I hate when that happens)
Out of lust and love and touch
I am losing feathers from my wings
Never free to fly. Crazy.
Et au bout d’un certain temps, tu te rends compte que les gens qui te rassurent qu’ils ne partiront jamais sont les premiers à s’en lasser de toi. Les gens qui te jure un amour éternel sont ceux qui ne sont pas joignable quand tu as besoin de support.
A vrai dire, tout le monde s’en fout.
Sois sage ! Ne dérange pas les vies bien structurés. Surtout, ne crois pas que tu aies une valeur quelconque. Tu n’es qu’une victoire; une trophée.
Et tu sais qu’ils n’ont rien à faire de tes émotions.
Alors continue à galérer ; continue d’être plus qu’ils voient. Continue de te trouver toi-même. Parce-que un jour ils ouvrent les yeux et ils ne te connaissent plus.
Ce jour là, c’est toi qui sais dire à voix haute : je m’en fout!
It is late, and I should sleep,
But I am sitting here, and weep.
My dreams have been too deep.
Paralysed, I am on my knees
And the ashes rain down on me,
But I will rise.
My head is held high;
Digging my way out of the dirt,
I will fly.
My angelwings lost some feathers;
bruised and a little broken,
But I am not afraid.
Time has taught me lessons;
they are etched in my mind,
unable to forget.
To be free I need to rise,
remembering to flap my wings,
I soar and begin to fly…
I feel like sharing some more music… While last time, both songs I shared were more electronic, this week I listened to something different.
Fink – perfect darkness
Fink. The first song I heard was Too Closely. I got curious and listened to more and more of his music. In the meantime, I have seen him live, and his album “Perfect Darkness” (2011) still plays regularly on my stereo.
Antimatter – in stone
This is music I often listen to when I am writing. The reasons are clear and not. The mix of awesome lyrics and emotion-evoking music is what gets my muses going.
enjoy the music… make sure to listen the second one to the end.
Have a nice Saturday,
Cathy
(PS: why am I told that the bathroom needs a scrubbing, when I worked all week, and he was home? I am irritated and stubborn now, but eventually, I will do it, and he knows it.)
I don’t own a backpack.
It’s not for lack of trying. I bought a backpack two years ago. My son liked it so much that he took it for himself (and I didn’t have the heart to take it back again). I bought a backpack last year. My daughter took it on a school trip. And forgot it on a train. I bought a backpack yesterday. I turned it this way and that; tried it on. Paid for it and… Wanting to put it in the trunk of my car a while later, I noticed that it was broken. So I took it back to the store… And I still don’t own a backpack for myself.
Maybe I am not supposed to have a backpack.
Cathy
(PS: my writing app doesn’t like this post because I used the word “backpack” too many times)
The first story I ever wrote was fanfiction for the show Brothers and Sisters, and it was written and published on the 6th of July 2012. My main focus (and the one of my friends from back then,) was the gay couple of the show, Kevin and Scotty.
I have been writing for almost exactly six years now. Wow. I haven’t stopped writing ever since. Good or bad, you be the judge.
Brothers and Sisters – Patience
My cheeks are coloured crimson from embarrassment, and I wonder if I really should share this link… But that’s the story that started the journey that landed me here, and micqu.livejournal.com was the first home of my words.
Now, if you are going to read anything on there… Remember these are my very first writing steps and English is my fourth (!) language.
Enjoy or laugh with me,
Cathy
At the other end of town, a middle-aged man was pacing the length of his office. Every once in a while, he looked across the room at two burly men who didn’t dare to look at him. They tried to be as small as they could, given their sizes and the confining space of the leather chairs they sat in. Giuseppe’s rage made a large vein on his forehead appear. It looked intimidating and as if it would pop every moment now.
“One thing. Just one thing,” Giuseppe seethed, pointing a meaty finger at his minions. “That stupid little…, how could you lose her?” The boss was not amused, and the look of his lackeys did nothing to soothe him. “I want my money, and I want the girl. Bring me both. If not, your future is sealed. Now get out of my sight. And don’t come back without Mildred.” Giuseppe rubbed the bridge of his nose to fend off an impending headache he felt.
“Yes Sir,” Tonio and Richard answered in unison and left Giuseppe’s office.
Exhausted, Giuseppe dropped down into his chair, massaging his temples. He looked left and right, making sure that no prying eyes were watching him, and then, out of a folder, he pulled a picture. On it, a younger version of Giuseppe was leaning against a tree. Next to him, another man stood with a little girl on his shoulder. Looking closely, one could see the men holding hands. Lovingly, he traced the other man’s face with one finger, wishing he would be able to touch more than just a fading picture. He remembered the day the photo was taken vividly.
Giuseppe and Connor had taken their daughter on a picnic in the park. They had played ball and fed the ducks; they had played catch and eaten fresh sandwiches Connor had prepared for them. And later in the afternoon, when the girl had been tired, the little family had found this large tree that offered shade for them all. A timer had helped to take this family picture, and minutes later, little Milly had fallen asleep in Giuseppe’s arms.
That time was long gone. Twenty years later, all Giuseppe wanted was revenge. Milly had stolen from him. Not only had she stolen Connor’s heart, but she had taken money that wasn’t hers.
Giuseppe slipped the picture in the folder, hiding it again. He had sought revenge for such a long time; he didn’t know how to stop anymore. If he let Milly go, he would appear soft to the other mobsters around, and his reputation would be damaged beyond repair. Silently and secretly, Giuseppe only wanted peace of mind. He wanted his family back, and he wanted to spend the remaining years of his life in the presence of his little girl and the love of his life. Neither was at his side for now, and as long as he was chasing Milly, she would not be back without a fight. Giuseppe sighed and cursed. Life was complicated. He just hoped Tonio and Richard would not kill Milly when they found her. “Where are you, you silly girl?” Giuseppe asked into the empty room. The question echoed off the walls without a reply.
“I had these ideas about you and now none of them are true…”
“Like?”
“Well… You’re a smoker.”
“Been one for 30 years. What else?”
“You’re smaller than I expected”
*He groans, rolls his eyes and puts his cigarette out with the heel of his sneaker. She’s embarrassed and nervous, trying to find words to say that aren’t offending or insulting in this awkward situation.
“Go on…”
“You are much more handsome than on your pictures.”
*He smiles. She’s back on track.
“What else?”
“I said “no” when you asked about being intimate on our first date. I meant “yes”.”
*The admission leaves her timid and waiting for rejection. She puts a lock of hair behind her ear. It jumps right back to where it was. He stands straighter, anticipating what will be happening next.
“I can’t see how this has anything to do with the way you imagined me to be”
“I judged you. I don’t know you.”
*It’s almost an apology. Almost.
“We spoke on the phone for two years.”
“I know.”
“You know exactly who I am. Maybe not my mannerisms or my daily habits. You know the deeper me. You know me better than anyone else.”
*It’s flattering to hear these words, but she is sceptical. Does he really tell the truth or is this his way of getting what he wants? It doesn’t matter. Who cares? She gives in. No reason to fight the feelings she doesn’t want to fight.
“You had me with that smile, moments before you said hello.”
“Two years ago I told you that I would never fall in love with you and that I only want sex from you. I lied.”
*She blushes and smiles at his feet. She still doesn’t know what he sees in her; she is short and overweight; and he could have every girl he wants.
“Come here… We don’t have a lot of time. Let’s make the best of it.”
*She nods. Their eyes are locked and their breaths mingle, moments before their lips touch. Her heart races and her knees feel weak. Electricity. He tastes of cold smoke and she can feel his smile on her lips. His hands find an immediate way under her shirt. The heat of his skin on her back leaves imprints on her soul that she can never wash off. She needs more of him. All of him. As much as he is willing to give. If he lets her in, she will submit to him, surrender to his needs. She will become his everything. With an urgency, they find the bed behind them. Clothes are quickly disposed of. There is no time to waste. Not even to appreciate the nakedness of the other. He used to ask her to tell him that she loves him. For the first time, these words leave her lips without being a lie, just as he enters her and fills her in a way she hasn’t felt in years. Completion. This encounter is more than she ever expected it to be. It is less too. Two lonely humans giving in to their primal urges after building up to this moment for more than two years. Everything they ever said, everything they ever wrote; every picture they ever shared – everything led to this moment. The moment when two became one. And although everything that was happening right there was ordinary, nothing about it was, in fact, ordinary. Moans, sweat, the scent of sex, the creaking of the bed. Two people who stopped thinking. Only existing.
Suicide… It’s a tough one to talk about because judgment is everywhere. Most people will never experience this utter helplessness, the crumbling under the weight of your own thoughts. And I wish that you never will.
Just be kind, smile at someone. Listen and hear what people are saying.
Truth be told though, when I was suicidal, I didn’t talk about it. I made plans at work and with family, knowing well that in my mind I had other plans. I didn’t openly complain and I still don’t do. Openly: to my friends and family. This blog is for my rants, my hopelessness. My silent screams. The place where I unleash my inner demons.
I don’t know where these feelings are coming from. I just know that they were amplified when I lost someone who was so very close to my soul that I was disintegrating when he left.
There is light in all of us… Never let it go out.
And again, I make no sense.
This blog used to be about music… It really was, but I am not a critic, and my tastes are a bit weird at times. Most music is gone, but I am thinking about bringing it back. I used to have a Friday 5, where I would post five songs I liked every Friday. Maybe I should post on Mondays? One song? Starting today on this Sunday? (I am a woman, I am supposed to be indecisive and inconsequent in my decisions 🙂 Or maybe I am just a little more upbeat than I usually am.) I will not review the music I share, as I feel I am not qualified enough for that, but the songs you’ll find here have touched me in one way or another, or they evoke memories in me.
The songs or links I share don’t belong to me. Support artists you like – buy their art. Pay for music… Lots of time and dedication, as well as money, are put into the songs you like.
Here are some songs for you:
Cardhouse – extra mile
Cardhouse is the project of Daniel Cardoso. Daniel Cardoso is an excellent drummer and producer (he worked with Daniel Cavanagh, Antimatter, Anneke van Giersbergen…), and he is part of the band Anathema. The song “Extra Mile” is taken from his solo debut “City Blur.”
Felix Räuber – wall
This is something very special. I have never heard a song like this before, then again, that doesn’t mean anything. The voice of the singer is unique, I admit it might not be for everyone, but the arrangement of the song is brilliant. The song “wall” is taken from the EP “the Wall” by Felix Räuber. I had the pleasure of briefly talking to this artist years ago when he toured with Maximilian Hecker. Very nice and talented man.
Music has a lot of meaning for me. It takes up a lot of time and place in my life, though, I admit, not as much as it used to. I have been listening to the same music and their satellites for many years now. It has been a while since I heard something that totally blew my mind. But I am very hard to please too. Rest assured, this blog will not turn into a music blog again. I will probably never share the newest songs, and my tastes are various and random, but it is another part of me. Another layer peeled away.
I hope you enjoy the songs. They are both quite electronic for someone who is usually more into prog or singer/songwriter…
Cathy
My book is still available as a paperback on Amazon… It is a collection of poetry I wrote over the course of the last six years. If you enjoy my poems on this site, you will like the book too. I looks very nice too.
If you prefer a signed version, get in touch via catherine.micqu@gmail.com and we will figure something out. I ship worldwide.
Thank you,
Cathy
Combusting
Crumbling
Talking in my sleep
There is nothing to understand
Bleeding
Healing
Starring to the ground
There is nowhere to run
Growing
Fading
Going home
Nothing left to burn.
My daughter gives the best foot massages and she does it on her own accord, not because I am asking.
Wow…
Give me thirty seconds to look into your eyes. Thirty seconds will suffice. Give me thirty seconds, and you will see. Thirty seconds and you will fall for me. Give me thirty seconds to change your world. Thirty seconds; I will give it a whirl. Give me thirty seconds and look into my eyes. Thirty seconds to see my love and everything it implies.
I dreamed we were walking hand in hand. On a farmer’s market. Looking for a special toy for your daughter.
I dreamed you just married my sister and hid underneath a blanket to avoid her. I found you, and you told me you’d rather be with me than with her. I hid with you under the blanket.
You are often in my dreams, but rarely as vivid as you were in these two dreams. The second one happened this night.
A couple of days I told you that I was nearly going insane on my vacation. Back home, I am my usual self again. I am a bit overwhelmed by my own reactions. I mean, I scared myself and that is not nice.
I cannot think about certain things too much. But honestly, I am glad that I left that feeling of being uneasy and unwell abroad.
Cathy
Foreign soul in an enchanted land, I’ll lay down and die for you. I’d bleed for you. Just to save you.
Foreign soul, therein lies the curse. I cannot close my eyes. I cannot stop to breathe. Just to save you.
Foreign soul, find shelter in my heart. I cannot unknow you. I cannot unbreak you. Just to save me.
Foreign soul, I forgot how to speak your language. But I understand your tears and your smiles. They save me.
Fear. I don’t know fear. I never have. I am not able to feel fear. Well, maybe I am, but I am not allowed to feel it. Fear lets one make mistakes and mistakes are deadly. Fear. I am afraid to feel it. To be paralyzed by it. To let it rule me. But here I am and I feel it creeping up my spine and spreading on my neck. Sweat is forming on my forehead, my view becomes blurry. I cannot afford to lose my senses, but here I am; blind, deaf, mute. I cannot see because sweat is continually dripping into my eyes and I can’t wipe it away or make it stop. I cannot hear because the pounding of my own pulse is the only noise in my head. My blood and my thoughts. White noise. The rest of the world is silent. I am silent too. I am silent. Deaf. Mute. Wordless. Barely existing. Nobody knows that I am alive. If I die, nobody knows that I ever existed. Fear. I was never able to feel fear. Now I do. I made mistakes. They paralyzed me. Fear. I don’t know fear. I am fear. I am ruled by it. Fuck fear. Fuck anxiety. I just want to hear, to breathe, to speak. I want to be me. Fuck fear…
The older I get, the more eccentric I am becoming. Me on vacation at a Centre Parcs… I can’t sleep because I can’t stop thinking about how many unclean people slept in the same bed. I can’t sit on the couch because of the people who sat there before me and what did they do? I have to wash all the dishes and glasses because… Ew! And the shower and toilet… Help!! I was never this bad with my OCD. And I am annoying myself. I cannot make it go away, and it makes everyone around me go crazy. Me too. Thinking about all the people who spent time in that house… It drives tears to my eyes. It makes me nervous. It makes me nauseous. And I cannot fight it. I have to wash my hands all the time. I am unwell, and I don’t know what is happening to me. I just know that it is not good. And I don’t want to take this erratic behaviour home with me.
2 more days… I hate this vacation. It is not relaxing at all…
C
I was a fellow traveller lost on this long winding road. Ready to give up; I sat and waited, but not one soul showed. The dirt and the dust were whirling through the air. Suddenly, you were there. You were pulling at my will to sit still. I got up and pasted my sweaty body against yours, and together we sailed to new shores. This fellow traveller had been found, minutes before she would have drowned. I became your queen, and you are my king, flying to the other side on a raven’s wing.
At night our bodies are wrapped in a dark veil. Our hands feel. Our lips taste. Our tongues leave traces.
At night our senses are heightened. Our fingertips feel the goosebumps on our skin. Our lips suck on erect flesh. Our tongues glide over pulsating veins.
At night everything is different. Everything stays the same. Doubts fade, only passion remains.
Milly woke up and didn’t know where she was. The first thing she noticed was that she wasn’t in pain. The second thing she noticed was that she wasn’t in a car, but she lay on a bed. Fresh white linen in a room that was decorated in a modern way. She glanced at the window and saw trees. Lots of trees. And she gathered that she was on the second floor somewhere. Maybe a hotel? She saw two doors. One was closed, and one was ajar. Milly moved her arms and her legs and then, she let her hand wander to her injury, assessing her state of being. A large bandage covered her lower right side. He wound had been dressed. Another look around the room. She was sure that she wasn’t at a hospital. Somewhere close she heard a man humming, and the smell of food and coffee reminded her of how hungry she was. For a moment she forgot to worry about her situation. She sat up and winced. There was still some pain in her body after all. Milly heard footsteps, and she didn’t know what to do. Too many questions were unanswered. Her gun was not close by, she didn’t see it, and she was too weak to fight anyone in a fist fight. In a panic, she did the only thing she could think of and pretended to be asleep.
Josh opened the door of the master bedroom with his foot, balancing a tray with food for Milly in his hands. She had lost conscience in the car, and he had done the only thing he could think of, he drove them to his parents’ lake house. He knew that no one would be there at this time of the year. Josh, he carried Milly into the house and laid her on a bed. There, he saw her gunshot wound for the first time. He had tried to wake her up but concerned that she would come up with a fever and an infection, he had dressed the wound as best as he could. He saw two holes, which was good. It indicated that the bullet wasn’t inside her body anymore. He cleaned both wounds meticulously and put a bandage on them. He hoped that his basic aid was enough for now, if not they would have to find a hospital soon. Milly had been out cold, and Josh began busying himself by cleaning and making dinner. Time had flown by, and he decided that it was time to check in on his kidnapper/patient. He put the tray on the table in the corner of the room and noticed that her breathing had changed. She was awake, even if her eyes were closed.
“I brought you some food and painkillers,” Josh announced stepping closer to the bed. “You should be okay. There is no bullet in your body. The only concern is internal damage and the fear of an infection due to fibres of your shirt in the wound. I did the best I could, but if the pain persists or if something is off or if you have a fever, we should go to a hospital. There is not much I can do from here.” Josh bit into a cookie and sat on the bed. Milly opened her eyes, unimpressed by Josh’s proximity.
“Thank you,” she said meekly, looking anywhere but at Josh. “Where are we? How long have I been out? Where’s my gun? Why? Why didn’t you just drop me off somewhere?” Milly bombarded Josh with questions, he merely smiled and got up again. Bringing the tray closer, Milly sat up still, wincing and clutching her side. She moaned, trying to find a sitting position.
“We are someplace safe. Your gun is over there,” Josh pointed at Milly’s backpack and her jacket, “You were asleep for six hours, and you needed help.” He offered her the painkillers and a glass of water.
“Just something for the pain. I promise.” Milly looked Josh straight in the eyes, as if she was defying him, and swallowed the pills. “Do you think you can stomach dinner? I am starving.” Milly nodded and was ready to get out of bed, but Josh forbade it, bringing her a plate of food.
“You need to rest,” Josh announced.
“I need to get the money to Giuseppe. The money I don’t even have because I am not in charge here anymore, am I?” Josh grinned.
“How much money do you need?” he asked. Even though he wasn’t in his father’s good graces, he had some money in his accounts.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“How much?” Josh insisted.
“Two hundred thousand.” Josh gulped. If he gave Milly the money, his savings would be used up. He whistled through his teeth and Milly looked away in shame. No one would be able to save her.
Our souls are dancing in the dirt
Our bodies know that they fit.
I taste your lust on my lips
You are rigid and pulsing on my tongue.
Our hands are entwined
Our eyes mesmerised
I feel your tongue in me
You are exploring my wetness with your lips.
Awoken from a deep slumber
Driven by lust and love
I beg you to complete me,
You fill me so good.
Our mouths silence our ecstasy
Our bodies are united at their core
I swallow everything you offer
You make me come undone
Our bodies are dancing to the song of passion
An afterglow of our naked feral lust
I am kneeling for you
Your hands are drawing a map of pleasure on my body
Our minds are overwhelmed
Our souls are complete.
