life

small reminders

/ mycatisafrenchspy / Leave a comment

for the past few days rain rolled through our little town and now cold winter air is drifting through the open window once again. i’ve been keeping my words quiet because i’m unsure of many things right now.

i’m slowly getting into the meat of things again and i’ve been accomplishing things, all the while fighting through uncertainty and unsuredness and half the battle is to quiet my brain which is screaming fearfully. i keep lecturing myself to breathe and take baby steps.

on friday i had a chat with horus’ doc regarding removing his feeding tube. he asked me to bring him in if my primary vet doesn’t do it. i already checked with my vet but she was unsure of it as she didn’t do it for a while and i was reluctant to drive a screaming and stressed out kitty over 2 hours just to get his stitches out. so i got home and watched a you tube video on how to remove a feeding tube and as i am a scientist and i thought how hard could this be as i have dissected out the brains of fruit flies. so i proceeded to remove horus’ stitches after properly sterilizing my eyebrow scissors and removed the goddamn feeding tube and cleansed the area and put a collar back around his neck so he won’t scratch it. after i removed the tube, he pouted for an hour but he came back to my bed and slept. i checked the wound site on sat morning and it’s healing nicely and i am keeping an eye on it till it’s completely healed. the biggest problem was to keep him steady while i was trying to get at the stitches as he kept moving. i wasn’t sure but i think, he pulled it out himself the moment i snipped the last stitch as he jumped off of the counter and all i saw was this tube flying in the air after him.

my friend jack keeps asking me to go running with him around 5 am on sundays and excuse me ! what’s with white people and running ? it’s well and good for you, as you have flat chest but have you seen me ? my boobs are like halves of a pineapple and there is no sports bra on this planet which would contain them tight enough so they won’t jiggle and move when i run ! even when i was thin as a rake, i had them and i used to look like a stick figure with boobs ! and not to speak of the time jack was proposing ! 5 goddamn a.m. !! is he crazy ? i ain’t getting out of my bed (even tho i am awake for all intents and purposes) at that ungodly hour, on a sunday, unless my house is on fire…. scratch that, unless i’m on fire.

at work one of my colleagues also asked me if i would consider walking from down town to amtrak station which is a few block and i laughed and said, may be ! walking isn’t bad but the humidity in my city is intense and it plays a number on my lungs.

i’ve jump started on my spring cleaning as my kids were home all the winter and quite frankly the air is getting a bit stale. and oh, this weekend an indian movie actress died at a young age (54) and i think it’s a shame. not a very big fan of her’s as she always acted similar to lucille ball you know how bimboish she acted and trying to give an impression of a complete airhead and i don’t like such people and frankly it takes my all to not slap them on their face and say “use your fucking brains”. and oh, i also read somewhere that marilyn monroe put that kind of show in spite of being very smart because that’s what men like; a complete moron who flutters their eye lashes and coyly say “oh sir, aren’t you a genius”. how ridiculous ! it’s just not them who flutter their lashes and at least they have an excuse, but once i was watching an interview with katie couric and she was fluttering her eye lashes like there is no tomorrow and i was super angry. i know men are weaker sex but i would never take advantage of that. i would rather stroke a man’s dick rather than a man’s ego to please him if he isn’t deserving. some men are intelligent and i would genuinely compliment them.

well, this weekend my friend and i made plans for his visit in march and he wanted me to return with him to new zealand for a few days and it’s appealing to me. the traveler in me had to take a hiatus due to my panic attacks which i developed after i lost my child but i am hoping i would be able to travel to all these gorgeous places i have maps for and i keep marking the routes for the same.

i keep wandering off to all these faroff places with the boy i am in love with and keep telling him all these things i haven’t said. being in love with someone from this distance feels more bittersweet than i expected and i keep pressing my fingers to my heart. i think it is okay if you get quiet at the wrong times because i do that as well.  and it is okay if you get wrapped up in moment, tangled in what should have been said, if you tie knots around the word you don’t have courage to say.

i don’t know if i would be able to leave or if he would stop me. for all those faded friendships… i have a fire in my finger tips and i want to believe in this, in me and in you and the way your eyes burn when you look at me….. why won’t you believe in us ?

for still being here, and i’m not ready to give up the fight

all the stars

/ mycatisafrenchspy / Leave a comment

IMG_2658 (1)

an excerpt from our night. anubis et moi, rocking to “all the stars – kendrick lamar”

i’ve finally submitted my application y’all for an mba and i’m chatting up people so i can move ahead and use my intelligence appropriately. i’m excited to learn something new but i’m already tightly scheduled with no time left for myself but my circumstances have made me work harder so i can’t relax yet but i keep reminding myself that this is only temporary and yes, one of these days i too shall enjoy crème brûlée cheese cakes, and pastel sunsets and hopefully it will be with sandalwood or on my own as “places are so much lovelier when one is alone – du maurier”

sandalwood appeared on my doorstep with a guacamole grilled cheese sandwich and i must say, for a pretentious person, i love grilled cheese sandwich and i ate it for the first time when i came to america and julien and i were visiting one of our friends and she lived on a farm and the sandwich her mum made was yummy and it was julien’s first as well and it was a tremendous joy; but i can’t cook one even if someone put a gun to my head and oh i tried to cook it numerous times but i think i suck in a most brilliant way. but the boy scored again with his brilliant guacamole grilled cheese sandwich feat.

i’ve been spending time plotting my future (mostly financial as i’m broke) but it’s fun though. you know. to earn money and multiply it and invest etc. i dated millionaires before i got married to jace (and after julien) but they all bored me and mocked me because here i was working hard to get a degree and there they are high school drop outs but millionaires. and i actually admired them but they were boring because they wanted a trophy wife, unintelligent and without an opinion, blonde, lounging by the poolside, sipping something alcoholic and having no opinion except for the temperature of the water. and i’m not that person you know. the only way anyone can grab my attention or respect is by challenging my intelligence and they were desperate and i was like no thank you !

julien was an aristocrat but he was as humble as he was wealthy and jace worked hard for his money and i admired his intelligence.

i have so many things still up in the air and some days i just want to give up and curl up in a corner and go to sleep and not wage wars but when i see my pretty little babies faces, adrenaline bursts into my veins.

i got sick on sunday with flu thanks to one of my colleagues who was at work on friday in spite of him going through flu and coughed a lot and i knew in 48 hours i’ll come down with flu (viral incubation is 48 hrs) and so monday i informed my boss i’ll come and collect my laptop and leave and she was like stay put. i spent monday fading in and out.

and there is this girl who kept emailing me all day long with honey dripping right through my laptop screen and who i can’t stand as she is so goddamn fake (and dangerous if you don’t watch out) and once she realized that i’m on a solid ground with my boss (there was a futile attempt to make my life miserable and for a while they were successful till my boss figured out the truth as i refused to talk to her about my pain but just ground up my teeth) and so she is now all lovey dovey and i’m now gagging and wanting to throw up because i’m not fake but i’m polite and i give minimum respect they deserve as a human being in spite of my personal feelings. the most incredulous thing for me is that people underestimate me and my intelligence. and i assess a person’s intelligence by talking to someone for a couple of seconds. i’ve a good mind to photocopy my resume and rent a crop duster or a drone and make these copies rain in my office !

but all is well that ends well… and meanwhile i’m plotting my success in the company and i’ll bulldoze anyone who would stand in my way while charming the pants off of the right people.

an update on the reasons for my existence and the joy and happiness of my life aka my kitty babies. horus has started eating on his own and halle-fucking-leuiah and i’m floating in the nebula with happiness and i’m thinking i would bring him to the vet sometime this weekend to get his feeding tube removed. skittles, my kid with ruptured third eyelid, as i predicted completely recovered and she still has a bit of healing to happen, but she is happy and her eye looks fine and i’m sure her vision is normal. the rest of my children and doing well by god’s grace.

my friend will be visiting me in march and he lives in new zealand and i’m seeing him after many moons and so i’m i thrilled to bits. i am putting together a fun day or two with him.

i’m planning to get acupuncture for my asthma and ugh.. not too thrilled about needles as i would cry shamelessly. and i’ve scheduled a full body massage (which includes massaging tits and tummy, and bum) so i could detox. i try and get this done once every six months but it has been over a year.

i’m miserable slightly as i am trying to move on and as much as i would like to forget ze american boy, it’s hard as i still see him around. but i’m getting better and i scribbled a few lines for him for his birthday.

as usual, this does not belong here, it is not poetic, it is personal and it hurts but i just need to say this before i forget.

it’s your birthday, so i bought you a cake, i would have baked you a cake, a towering one with three layers of raspberry infused chocolate mousse cake.

i met you at a very strange time in my life. i felt a little sad and nostalgic for new years where i was ready for so much and so little all at once. if life went the way i wanted, i probably would have hung out with you, laughing and may be shared a bag of chips with you; i have a love affair with bottles and i would have given you a blue bottle from an antique store.

i loved you yesterday and i loved you today. i loved you in a complicated and compromising and confusing way that made me uncomfortable and unapologetic for my actions. i loved you and i was stupid, so stupid in a confusing way, stupid in the way i’d never be able to keep my hands off of you, stupid in the way i had spilled my secrets i never knew i had, stupid in the way i’d cry every time i thought of letting you go, stupid in the way i would have been reckless and bold. but i loved you. i am sure of that, no matter how many silences, awkward half-conversations, nights when i  soaked the sheets with hot salt water tears.

i was careless and consumed, you know.

but happy birthday my darling !

‘

 

 

either way, i’m here

/ mycatisafrenchspy / Leave a comment

months of late night emails and candid small talk. i never shared my secrets with you, just the facts and blatant observations. i keep plotting day dreams of how things could be if i had my way and but the truth is i don’t know how to transition to you.

i spend too much time talking about distance: the way two people can be separated by things both tangible and intangible, not just points on a map and miles on road markers, but also the emotional secrets you can keep from someone. there’s been this theme sparking everything i touch lately, a lingering notion that throughout my life, i’ve been spending my time picking and choosing my romantic entanglements based upon how far i can keep someone away from me. it’s been tripping over strangers. it’s been sending my feelings through black letters on white screen and stealing looks and sighing. it’s been avoiding confrontations and making excuses. it’s been holding my breath for a possibility to pull through when i’ve been nervous over the american boy since mid-may of last year.

you sat on the edge of my bed telling me how much you would love to kiss me (and fuck me) and i laughed and told you if i did that it would be for wrong reasons. you laughed as well and teased me about my absurdity.

all my big talks about wanting to get fucked (too true) but when the moment came, i remembered all my rules about premarital sex and i’m glad you are patient and understanding and more importantly, you are kind. i conflict between desires and the plain logic.

but the reality is, i miss my life with boys who accepted me for my crazy, and fucked up ways; my habit of making blowjob jokes at the most inappropriate time; didn’t mind me when i was feeling lost and alone and horrible and laughed at the way i mocked the girls who take themselves far too seriously; and who shared books with me and comforted me when i was at my lows and slowed me down when i was going a super sonic speed; i miss singing really bad songs with them and let me know when it’s raining because they know i smile when the weather is cold and let me dream a little and save me from myself.

nostalgia comes in phases, of course and billowing in when i’m not paying attention, lying quiet some days and hitting hard on others.

but i have learned to be thankful for the things that are mine to take: like text messages you send and elaborate stories you told in excited voice (sometimes leaving them on my voicemail), spontaneous visits and emails spilling things you won’t admit out loud yet. but, i am not there yet. in the last few months, i’ve found myself in several separate moments where i’ve had opportunity to share something with someone i’m in love with and i always hoped to stumble into moments to say things i was afraid of saying and always showing up at his doorstep with empty hands full of potential.

in one year, my entire life changed because of one person’s triggering familiar features. though i’ve hinted at it before, i don’t know if i can fully explain how much that scared me. i was not expecting to rearrange all the plans i had set in stone, the concrete ideas plotted out in order.

i wasn’t ready to bump into you. since then, my world has been reeling and burning and challenging me to exceed all of my faults, to unearth the past and speak it without a shaking voice, to build towards something new, something bold.

last night i sat in the dark listening to mozart, something i always do when i miss me when i was happy. it is a small reminder of the strange and wonderful coincidences that happen to fall upon us quite frequently. we spoke for a brief time earlier about nothing in particular, and then you said you would marry me if that’s what it would take and i felt that familiar swarm of emotions well up inside of me, something that starts in the chest and makes my heart come to life, each beat moving faster than i expected until i have to count my breaths just to calm down. i could lace this up with all the poetic nonsense my mind can spin, but all i can think about is how this is big.

i am afraid of drowning in nostalgia, reawakening the haunting memories i tried to bury deep down inside my rib cage. i was afraid maybe i’d regret letting go of all the things i had lost. instead, now i sit in the dark and i don’t feel a goddamn thing. i cried in the shower because i had forgotten the way the water burned my eyes and laughed at all the jokes still being told in a world where time had seemed to stop: everything was exactly the same.

sometimes i feel like maybe i could explode.

for now tho, i need you to know that i would say yes if i thought i’m right for you. but you have to wait. i repeat this to myself when my heart feels heavy and my mind sputters with exhaustion from counting unknown days on my fingertips. i have told you some of my secrets printed on paper in my handwriting and you have apologized for being nervous when we talk and i cried once, but i don’t think you could tell and you get quiet when you are unsure about things. we are close, but never close enough. but we have time. we have so much time.

i could spend years getting to know you over and over again, and may be i could grow into you, wrapping my branches around yours.

and the answer is always yes but wait for now.

:/

/ mycatisafrenchspy / Leave a comment

today was rather a sleepy day… i was still feeling the after effects of my cold and yesterday it rained all day and so the blahness continued to this monday which is already a big blah…

so i think i have a secret admirer…. the person i mentioned before and who texts me bible verses etc anonymously and today he (or she) actually wrote a very lengthy and a very sweet text without actually saying that i’m pretty important to him & what a precious thing i’m to him (or her?) oh well…

and today only i was talking to this coop girl at my work with who i giggle that i don’t get stalked anymore … true story, not to brag but i had so many stalkers and admirers and this with me just being a tom boy…. anyway i don’t understand why this person doesn’t come out and ask me out or let me know who he or she is…

coming back to the point, my heart twinged a little when i saw ze american boy today. i get pulled to him as a magnet pulls iron but gosh i really don’t know what to do ? each day when i see him, i remind myself to breathe and i teach my heart to unlove him. i recently considered to quit the job but then i changed my mind as i have a family to feed.

sandalwood is becoming somewhat important to me and i’m conflicted. i like him and i think he would be good for me. i haven’t decided yet.

to a certain degree, the things i write here have become impersonal or more like journal entries. i don’t name people so you, the reader, won’t bond with these characters… i have exchanged them to their characteristics and to the ideas of them. names and human characteristics have been exchanged for the space between people, for how i personally am moved by skin, by language, by touch — by everything that falls around love, that isn’t directly the object of my affections. i like it this way because then while sharing my experiences i still have that uncrossable bridge between me and you… with my friends i talk explicitly, or as a matter of factly; as after all, i am a scientist. i down play the workings of my heart with everyone. but you, the blog readers are ok as you are anonymous.. to the comfort of the anonymous i’ll write of everything that moves me but won’t go into details about things that are dangerous to put into words. that’s how i’ve always been, tho. i keep myself closed and i distance myself with other human beings. call it defense mechanism or just being arrogant; apart from the boys who don’t exist anymore, there will never be another person who will hold me up against the light and see every facet of me, every color and every hue that i can become. when these boys died, they emptied me of my essence.

i often think of us as “the little prince” (le petit prince) and that there are so many little island worlds we all belong to respectively. we hold so many planets in us and we won’t let any other human beings to land on it or let alone visit. and that’s so lonely a feeling.

what i would like is to find one human who can soothe the ache of wanting to discuss every molecule of my life. i want to be able to touch someone’s arm or shoulder or knee and understand the fear that consumed them in their childhood, the happiness of their freedom, the way they fell headfirst into love for the first time. i love stories.. and i want to know how each of us accumulate all these worlds, all these stories i wanted to live and have lived and the dreams…. all the dreams, i had carefully weaved…

i think what i desire the most is understanding, that falls deeper than words into a space between two humans that can’t be touched by language. sandalwood talked about this the other day how someone he knew talked about how we communicate with each other…. i am not much for communicating my heart matters…what i do is i rip out my heart and use it as a pen and scribble myself out into words…and currently that’s what I’m doing.. instead of holding the american boy in my arms and listening to his heart, i write about my love for him but also i’m painfully aware of his relationship status… for fuck sake he is almost married !

how can i explain to someone the sound of an ocean beneath a moonlight beam… you need my heart for that. i suppose i’m yearning; nay i’m coveting… there are certain people who are so in tune with the subtle nuances of my being. there are certain people who i can tell are hurting just by how they hold their hands on their lap or press their lips. but still, there’s always something missing. i may just be looking for something completely selfish. i may just be looking for the basic and primal human relationship.

it’s just loneliness, i think.

i’m just lonely, i think.

actually i am lonely for him.

but the thing is this ! still, still and still i’m hopeful.

bliss

/ mycatisafrenchspy / Leave a comment

pandora’s box or paradox…. if you go far enough you will meet yourself… i mean like what the good fuck is the point of acting sane or trying to fit into society ? everyone is crazy and everything is crazy – after julien’s death, for a while i tied a little string around my wrist that served as a token of a reminder not to slit my wrists and it isn’t there anymore, hasn’t been there for a while, and i don’t know what to do with my hands, with their freedom – except create.  try to create something, away from all of the noise, the distraction. towards all that is violent and gashed open and deeply wounded and biting. you know what i mean? like white noise wrapped in cellophane. my heart is noisy like pop rocks which go pop pop pop when you put them on your tongue. my heart is noisy like a tin can full of pebbles.

i spend a lot of my free time reading literature or reading history that goes against the dominant river of thinking, and it makes me feel all the time like there’s a panic button underneath my tongue; like i’m on the edge of the universe. i was watching news this morning and they were talking about how a man brought his wife’s ashes to the eagles parade and i was thinking how stupid that was and about human beings and how they survive by doing these idiotic things… like attending a parade ! it’s such a mass mentality ! it’s imperative for their existence, i suppose.  i would have happily stayed home even if it were a parade for patriots… humans lose their individualities during such group activities and become flooded with altruistic nature, as tho doing such things would save them from themselves but that’s how they exist and observing human nature interests the scientist in me. to watch humans as lab rats … oh yes, i too feel that mentality to a certain extent (hence i loathe my humanness) like when i grieved the loss of my favorite team.

i have never cared about what others think of me and i have never felt more free to be unabashedly be me. i guess i was thinking about this because of the way people around me struggle with trying to look “good”. their unending struggle to look thin while eating completely unhealthy stuff… they bore me actually and i am so glad i never have gotten a complex about my weight. oh yes, i would love to shed a few pounds for my heart’s sake but i know not to get into that trap of getting stressed out as long as i’m on these steroids. speaking of which i so need to get back to the gym which i skipped as i have been quite fatigued the whole month of jan due to multiple feedings for horus and i can feel my muscles happily petrifying.. but it’s ok and thank goodness, there’s the muscle memory…. and once a dancer is always a dancer.

this evening when i got home, i saw my little skittles got something like a pink eye and i ran her to the vet which she then thought it’s ruptured third eyelid and so now skittles is on antibiotics and may or may not have vision in her eye and i am sad for her but my kids are resilient. all their docs think so and they think i got lucky but i tell it’s not luck, it’s love and genetics. my love is potent and my kids react to it in a positive way. i sang to skittles a very happy nice love song (in hindi) as valentine’s day is coming up and she joined in the song.

i’m planning to not go to church tomorrow and just stay home and take care of my kids and also self care. i wish it were warmer tomorrow… there is no feeling in this world that i enjoy more than being bare-legged, barefoot (like in the summer), with no pants on and just a flimsy t-shirt against my naked skin, and lying underneath a shady tree on a blanket watching the planes streak white and crisscross against the sky. the clouds light water colored. a sparrow or an eagle flying sleek overhead. and to stretch, stretch out against the earth. to feel the breeze glide over you, the entire bloom of leaves rustling as it passes through. my body is extremely sensitive to touch. i am a very sensory being — the world is seen through my hands. the grass against my skin feels like a homecoming. my body feels more my own when i’m not wearing many clothes, when i’m just a layer away from everything else.

there’s a lake around these parts that jace & i used to go… he to swim and i to watch him and during the summers — we drank cold lemonades and he smoked weed and swam naked and we fucked on soft, fraying blankets. (he one time wanted to try angling, for the record i protested this activity for the sake of fish and the worm, but he bought the worms and a whole fishing gear and he stood at the shallow end, while i was romping in the grassy banks looking at these beautiful red and velvety insects, giggling merrily; the fish came alright but they took a nibble at the worm and dashed away and i was literally floundering on the bank roaring with laughter; he had the entire worm (he didn’t want to cut them to pieces) hooked and so the bait was long and not close enough to the hook and you get the picture)

spring is my heart’s home. i belong in the tropics. my shoulders salt-kissed, sun-licked. sex with the windows open, under the blue skies, a lawnmower crackling, all dirty knees from a bike ride around the neighborhood. and the rain — i read a poem a while ago that was on the back of a metro card in new york, which described rain as “a million feral cries of si si si”.  everything is so alive. so, magnificently alive. and everyone is glowing, and they’re laughing and there’s this feeling, this wonderful feeling of endlessness in each day. you get off of work and people seem more open. more open to loving. & there is forgiveness. there’s not much need to survive in the spring, not like in the wintertime. people are more unafraid. in spring, i dance with more lightness ! with gentleness ! with more sensuality ! petals falling over us. the river water warm in the evening time. diet sodas with ginger and limes and the water lapping against the rocks. a cool, white sheet falling against us, our foreheads pressed together, soft moans and sighs and our skin, so delightfully humming.

crimson

/ mycatisafrenchspy / Leave a comment

spent past few days in a soupy, mushy feeling (still mush and soupey) and moping in general because patriots lost and i felt that loss deep to the marrow of my bones. after a good cry, i decided to continue to mope around a bit. i got a nasty cold and i stayed home for the better part of this week and i stopped watching news (stupid eagles are all over our local news). i listlessly flopped on my bed, my couch and sometimes with my face buried deep into my pillows. shot down all invites for dinners but shall go out on sunday because my friend wants to do a valentine dinner with me. wondering if i could get a reservation to “love” restaurant. sandalwood stopped gloating after i threatened him that i would banish him out of my life. i still owe robbie a movie and so goes my love life… after much analysis i found out that once i remove sex from the equation i am perfectly content being single with my kitties. and my laziness is already setting in and i don’t want to go through all these motions of finding a suitable mate just to get a perfect and satisfying scratch for my sexual itch.

and then there’s this “children” question. i’m conflicting between wanting children and not wanting them and i am definitely not gonna conceive but would love to adopt but children are rather problematic and the main downside is they are not cats. also, i am thinking i don’t want any man with kids. cats and other animals yes but no kids and this would completely rule out the american boy because he has some. i don’t want to compete for his affection as i’m a complete narcissist (and also unfair) as he probably would have to compete with my cats for my affection.

the boys i go out with are young and they keep telling me they don’t want kids, but i think they should and they probably will start feeling it when their biological clocks starts ticking louder.

and oh, side note and very irrelevant note… during my mopey sessions (after superbowl was lost) and even before that time, i watched a few movies (crime and serial killers and what have you) and for whatever reason (the movie titles aren’t worth remembering) every movie played this song at least once “crimson and clover” and so come monday my brain latched on to it and i woke up humming “….. and clover” having forgotten the word “crimson” and too lazy to google and so the whole monday and tuesday i went “la la la and clover” and then i went off on a tangent and remembered a particular episode of “frasier” where frasier crane forgets the words to a song “buttons and bows” (look before you leap episode)…. after cracking myself up silly tuesday night, i finally googled and i found out the song was “crimson and clover” and am now at peace.

i conflict whenever there is a remote possibility of finding happiness. i’m self-sabotaging that way and i don’t know how to stop myself and free myself from this negativity. i’m fighting very hard for a life where i feel as free as possible. trying not to get tethered to a place or material possessions save for the ones which i’m not done being sentimental about. i’m tethered to my cats tho because they save me from not getting lost in the abyss of my life. they are my lighthouses and perfect reminders for my sanity.  there has been someone that i deeply love and living very, very far from me. it has all been too much for so long and i’m exhausted. loving someone is exhausting. worrying about people is exhausting.

in my solitude, i slowly traced words that have been on my mind, very softly and gently in my head and then let them go, dropped them into where lost words fall when you finally let them go like the way petals fall from your fist. i keep muttering to myself i don’t want to hold onto the past anymore. i don’t want my past to define me. i just want. i just want to sit barefoot in a green place and eat something fresh, hand-plucked, from a garden. not eden. i am no eve. what i want is a place fought for. a place that i deserve. and i, maybe too much to ask, want a butterfly to flutter in slow ellipses over me, and land on the shoulder of someone that i love, sitting close by. and i want to think “yes, this is it. this is all there is. this is it.”

i’ll fight, and i’ll keep fighting, always and for as long as it takes, for my right to be, for all of our rights to be. to laugh, in open space, with no blade of fear no silver of shame pressed against the napes of us. i will fight for my little kitties and for my peace and for our happiness  and for all of the happiness of my friends, my future soulmate, my former lovers and loves and future loves — but when i am done, when i’m finally done, when i put down my sword, breathe out, and say god i’m so fucking tired — please, just let me go into my softness and let me be. i don’t want to just survive, forever. i don’t want to spend my entire life proving to myself that i can endure, and for that to be the cap over my head. i want, to extend myself outward. to settle so soft that everything around me warms. to be at peace with no thoughts for future, so that no clutter no banging of pans no fire at the edge of my door can phase me anymore. i just want to be calm. may be with butterflies fluttering over my head. or landing on the palm of my hand.

star dust and fluid self

/ mycatisafrenchspy / Leave a comment

i dream of you in delicate images, of fragile portraits built only in sleepy dreamy hazes, shivering at the sight of tumbling walls and shattered mirrors. yet i’m not built of glass, i’m an individual tracing outlines of you, a familiar stranger, sadly inaccessible, and i’m prying open the cracks within me only slightly, because if i expose the gaps, i illuminate the flaws and risks i’m (trying) and willing to take. my eyelashes flutter shut and i imagine the bits and pieces of star dust that created me, you and us, wondering if i’ll ever learn how to stop cowering behind the things i should say and start spilling the hastily formed sentiments; the words i tried to catch early in the morning, composing love letters in fog from the shower, before the wind blew them out of me. because sometimes you can’t keep it safe anymore, sometimes you have to take a risk, sometimes you have to be really goddamn honest with (or without) the promise of any reassurance or guarantee.

i may write great paragraphs about learning how to be brave, the twisted way i’ve thought that by shouting all of my secrets, i might become something bolder. but maybe i’m still not ready to say some things out loud yet, afraid my voice will quiver and my jumbled words will become nervous laughter, my mind falling into apologies and excuses. if i had the guts though, if i could gather the courage to look you in the eye and tell you everything that has been on my mind when you were standing in front of me all those times, and all those times i kept talking to you with my mouth full of bees so you couldn’t hear what i’m saying and tonight while sitting in the cold wind that wakes us up from the tingling skin to the core of our hearts, i would tell you this:

this is absolutely terrifying and i’m tapping my fingers in a steadying rhythm against my wrist to remember not to run away and not to destroy, not to repeat a passive aggressive path. because to me, this is big and this is heavy and i’m incredibly unprepared for it all. i feel all of this emotion welling up inside of me, a knot in my stomach, the swarm of bees in my chest and it has been so long since i felt a happiness that sits like a lump in my throat. so i claw my way through slowly unfolding ready to shout or cry or bury myself into a slight solitude so it will burn out with a small pop! but no matter the conflict of emotions, the net of protective keeping i’ve placed you into, there are some things that no matter how mixed up or complicated they might be, they fucking mean something. you can’t just ignore that and you can’t wonder where they might take you. you just have to lay it all out.

so here i’m. i’m ready to give you everything i’ve got, all the broken pieces and parts i’ve stitched back together with high hopes and good intentions. here are all my poorly told stories and histories i hoped to hide within myself, but shared too soon. here are my mistakes and successes, my flaws and my promises. here is all i’m, with shaking hands and an unsteady heart. here are my fearful thoughts and things i can’t quite articulate yet, my trust and my willingness to uncover everything ahead of us. because i’m tired of being safe and i’m tired of pretending it isn’t happening and i’m tired of wanting things and i’m tired of second guessing what all of this might mean;i’m keeping every goddamn finger i’ve, crossed that it is worth it in the end, when i want to believe in this so fully and deeply that it shakes me to my core.

i am crooked. i am old. i am placing all of my bets with pocket change. i am hoping to find you soon, and even from my deepest slumber and daylight moments spent wide-eyed, i know i will.

somehow i always am forgetting how difficult it can be to love fully, and to remain open armed and grateful.  how i don’t think my heart could get any bigger. and how i could fall farther in love with you than before. but here i’m, again and again.

how wonderful !

 

here & now

/ mycatisafrenchspy / Leave a comment

it’s snowing this morning but no accumulations because it’s warm out. i walked around my neighborhood with a cup of cocoa for a bit and caught snowflakes in my hair. (i’ve asthma and i shouldn’t do stupid things like this, but i’m being stupid for a change…. pneumonia, you are welcome). i stayed home as i needed to bring my kid horus to ze vet for his f/u blood work to make sure he doesn’t have internal bleeding.

i’m happy to be home to be surrounded by my cats as i’m kind of sad. i’ve been thinking about the american boy and how he talks about his girlfriend and i was thinking he is happy with who and what he got and while i’m happy for him, i’m sad as i’d have to push pause and explore couple of other boys who actually seem to be interested. i just need to find out if any of them is worth having a relationship ie that they are not neanderthals and all too much bloody americans as i find all americans loud, relatively obnoxious, unromantic and too chauvinistic and me being a highly intellectual, educated and feminist being, we are not a good mix. all this came about as how these boys keep wanting to do stuff with me and its not fair for them i think as even though i do go out, my mind is always on the unknown. and having said that, i’m planning to get a passport so i could go away for a weekend… anyway, american boy has to wait for a bit while i pursue other avenues… oh well, life goes on…

i often find myself falling into an overwhelming grief and by some coincidence, like when i’m chilling in my car or my bed or listening to music so it’s not that bad.  my brain warps and warbles when i’m in a mood like this and my thoughts go like: “the world in general is very much fucked and i’m running low on hummus; are those yellow flowers on that open bush; why is that woman wearing that awful dress and oh my car has great speakers and this is a great gift to be immersed in the greenness of the traffic light and so on and so forth. the mere multiplicity of it all… and ding ding ding…

being in the present moment. there’s full immersion and magical things like attending concerts, having sex, and skydiving (i never get to do this because i found out i was pregnant the day i was to jump) or bungee jumping or going scuba diving; participants in these activities are completely and utterly immersed to their bones in these moments. there’s no pausing in the past no stress for future and just living, breathing and absorbing every detail like a thirsty, bone-dry sponge; highly tuned to the smells, the sights, the tastes, the touches and the sounds become rich and colorful and alive; is there a better way to live than being in the present moment ? that’s why i love animals as they live in the present moment. just acknowledge and appreciate your current situation with eyes wide open and even more wide open heart. such liberation, such life !

i love being surrounded by my cats when i’m sad. i long for the velvety silk milk warmth of loving by a human, which is currently in hibernation. it faintly translates to getting caught in a deluge and getting drenched and just laughing but the sky was black as my grief; and when the rain ended the color of the sky and there’s no way i can describe how clean and how clear  and how crisp and how surreal the world seems; it amazes me what these violent storms do to the colourscape and it amazes me what ends up radiating. i don’t necessarily feel sad; i just feel like …. oh what are the words ? … i just feel like, my heart is buried somewhere deep, deep and going pitter pitter pitter… who knows about relations, or who knows what love is or even whether i’m equipped for it or whether it’s enough ? i’m sure i’m not gonna die of an aching heart, or loathsome loneliness; i’m sure i’m going to laugh those big laughs again while hanging off of a loved one and catch snowflakes in the hair while holding hands with someone who loves me and i’m sure there will be days for me with cozy comfort but i’m here, now and thinking about not running away; there will be days we can meet in a garden where cats roam chasing squirrels and there will be days, and yes, we have to meet there again.

i wish us all sudden and unpredictable velvety silk comfort.

i will now go and put on a sweater.

unspoken

/ mycatisafrenchspy / Leave a comment

think of me as a love letter between your fingers. cradle me and caress me. imagine that my spine is aged with a love that is older than my time on this earth. that my corners crinkle when i blush and that the creases in my body are similar to the scars on my thighs – i ‘ve been folded in two, in four. i don’t always fit my surroundings. imagine that i’m that ink stain that rests on your fingertips and that i carry permanent promises when you mark me and that i’m carved on paper and on bark, on bare walls and on crowded skies.

that i ‘m here for you to read on your loneliest nights. imagine that i weave my love through my words when i’m not there to weave my fingers through yours or toss your hair. that there is so much to say that my sentences run off the page. that despite this, i’m always ready to sign “yours” with a steady hand. i’m always ready to love you with a confident heart.

think of me as a love letter between your fingertips. come kiss my lips and open my lines. remember that i’m written in a language just for you; sometimes in braille, run your fingers on my body and read me; sometimes i’m written digitally, and that i stutter more when i write than when i speak – i’m still learning how to use certain words when you are around. be patient with me. know that my love screams louder than the pauses between unfinished syllables, the same way that it is more prominent than the miles between our souls and bodies. come and say hello to me and share your story with me.

share yourself with me.

a drizzly day ennui

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hello it’s a cold, gray and misty sunday… how is your sunday ?

i woke up thinking (for whatever reason), autumn is to say goodbyes and winter is to forget and spring is to have rebirths.

on friday one of my best friends has died of brain cancer and i’m a bit gloomy. mainly because in spite of my endless begging, she wouldn’t let me visit her. i first met ingrid at my current church. (i was a lutheran before i became an adventist) and i bonded with her as she was as outspoken as i am. she was born in germany and had a very unhappy childhood and a nazi as her father; we used to spend our sabbath afternoons having picnics and hiking and having bible studies. this was before i got married and then we drifted apart as i moved away and they moved and you know, life happens. but then i found out that she got separated (or divorced) after she had an affair and stuff. even though this pained me immensely, i’m not gonna judge because remember “happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way – tolstoy”. i wanted to sit with her and giggle and reminisce as for me there are very few happy memories and she was one of them. but now she is gone and well….

yesterday i was at church, and after the sabbath worship services and an elder who knew that i was ingrid’s friend, told me to talk to someone as “i’ve gone through so much” and this adds to my sadness and to try and be not so detached. easy for him to say but i am still processing. i’ve been processing my feelings for a long time now and my “inbox” is actually full.  actually i don’t know how to process my feelings.  i can speak about them, from a third person point of view or as an observer. i am able to analyze and offer my thoughts and i am able to summarize them. but i can’t feel them. i put my life on pause and i wallow in silence. (“i, too, remember that feeling. you are caught between all that was and all that must be. you feel lost…” murakami, hard-boiled wonderland and the end of the world.)

life goes on, life goes on, life goes on… i keep muttering to myself

friday afternoon, while coming home from work, dropped by the market to get a roast chicken for my kids and i was wearing my flyers hoodie and this guy in the check out line before me said “i work for them”… and i was chatting with him and discussed their miserable loss the day before and he was like they were all in the vacation mood… i wish i could go and slap each of them, but they are still my boys. i told him that flyers can come and sit in my cubicle anytime they want and he was like “where is this cubicle” and i told him where i work….. and oh, on friday, my boss did the sweetest thing, she hung a flyers idk what you call it but it’s like a flag (from years ago) in my cubicle and it warmed my heart.

i am eagerly waiting for superbowl sunday to rally behind my boys “the patriots”. my friends on facebook and i are fighting and chad is like are you from boston that you are patriots fan and i said, i like boston cream pie does that count ? at my work they are having a super bowl party and i have half a mind to bring some of those pies as all of the people at work (except for tim) are eagles fans… and i need to make sure there are plenty of tissues ready for them for the day after superbowl so they can wipe off their tears… :p

in my kitty news update… horus my child is now officially plump like his mama and he keeps flicking off the top of his feeding tube (the one with white tip) and i spend loads of time looking for this and this morning, i spent two hours looking for the top and i gave up… i plugged his tube with a crudely home made top (i just rolled a piece of paper towel and stuffed it into the feeding tube)

cheeti, my calico kitty who i rescued in 2002 and was so traumatized when we got her, that she wouldn’t let us (now me) touch her or pet her unless she wanted to, now finally trusts me and started spending time with me and now a days sleeps next to me and lets me massage her little body and she has the softest of fur and my eyes turn misty with emotion. i used to ask her if she would ever let me show affection before she or i die.

my skittles girl is definitely a super smart kitty. i feed my kids in paper plates and when my kids lick off the food from the plates the plates tend to move and so my other kids chase the plate. i observed skittles today and when the plate was trying to move away from her, she put her paw on the plate to hold it down and finish her breakfast…i was so fucking impressed with her !

currently, i am running around my house, white rabbit style, washing my bed sheets, clothes, vacuuming, trying to dry my body and my hair and dancing to the pixies and trying to write something philosophical in between and i need another coffee…. and oh oh oh, i want to go for a drive very badly on kelly drive just to feel the cold air hit my face & make me feel alive…

good morning y’all and more later…