Eye to Eye

"I come to you and you see me whole", he says."You love me all the way around the equator and not just for some story I wrote. When your door closes and the world's outside, we're eye to eye"


Stephen King (Lisey's story)

Eye Candy

I started reading Lisey last night :)

I just want to go home

I feel stressed about tomorrow and afraid of any possible failure (again). All I want is going back home, but it is 10,000 km from here.

So far and I feel so lonely I could cry.





But I am a big girl, and big girls don’t cry.

Little things that make me wonder

Reading a post today about how men and women are different, I came to the appalling conclusion that, I am a man inside… Go figure: I hate shopping for clothes, hate restrooms gathering, hate commercials on TV, have my CDs sorted out by alphabetical order and – horrendous – I hate above all girly-girly gathering where all we do is chatting and saying bad things about other people.
For that last part, I can manage all by myself, thank you.

I also read somewhere that women are better for the language (ok), and that men write less? Errr…. Excuse me? Ever heard about Emile Zola, Marcel Proust or Honoré de Balzac??? Now those men could write, and pretty well, on top of that !

I am somewhat TIRED of all those little clichés everyone agrees with, with a little giggle, and checking if , yes , they do belong… I don’t belong, that’s clear, or maybe at times I do… But I refuse to trap myself inside a cage of ideas, as golden and shiny as they are ^^


Men and women are different of course, and Thank God they are. Because I guess that after 50 years of marriage (yes I am straight and pro-wedding and proud of it =p), their difference make they still have things to share together ;)




Okay, more girl-serious-matters now…where did I put my cellphone(s)?

Geek

50% Geek

Fear of darkness

yet another short story by yours truly...


Fear of darkness.
(Sunday 11st , March, 2007 feeling sad and missing you)



Inuchan could feel the cold hands slowly closing around her throat.

Please don’t let him kill me, please don’t let him kill me…

She could feel the deep breathing, and the smell of dirt and rotten things, the kind of what you can smell in old cemeteries…She gathered all her strengths and screamed at the top of her lungs, screamed again and again, feeling warm tears rushing down her cheek, wetting the hands of her opponent (but was he real anyway), screaming until she could awaken Death itself…

Inuchan stood up in a start. Out of breath, a mute scream on her lips. Sweating. In the silence of their room. No one but darkness… She struggled with the sheets, felt for her throat….nothing more than her own hands feeling the skin. Nothing, well almost nothing…. Thin silver streaks of hair, locked in what seemed tears….She hastily brushed them away, hoping for the sensation of oppression to go away too.

It was just a dream, silly, just a DREAM.

She calmed down a bit, before groping for his body… There it was still sound asleep. She reached for his arm, smooth and warm. Please Mon, wake up….The silent prayer, the will to wake him up, but not doing it on purpose…Please do not let me all alone, not now, I feel too weak in the middle of the night…. She panicked. Tears were about to well out again. She stood up, grasping for the bed cover. Wrapping it around her shaking body, she groped her way out of the room. She needed some air, or at least a glass of water.

Inuchan made a halt in the bathroom first. The neon light made her head hurt a bit more, bluntly showing her ravaged face, the remains of tears and the messy, silvery hair. She faintly smiled. This is what you get for being an immortal. Not a single wrinkle, but silver hair permanently. Nothing to worry about really.. No need for day creams, I should be the luckiest Han… err girl in the world… She opened the tap, and let the cold water flow in her hands. Pale, slender hands, that had killed much more than embraced. Hands that were at least at peace, for a while. She washed her face with the cold liquid, and it made the fever of her cheeks go away for a while. Still, the haunted look in her golden eyes. The man was still there, hidden in her brain, his strong hands lurking for her throat…. She choked a bit. Felt a reeking sensation in the middle of her stomach and ran for the toilet bowl.

Get up, sissy. Only weaklings get to puke because of the fear…

Inuchan startled.

Fear? Me? NO WAY !!!

She flushed, then stood up, carefully avoiding the mirror. Cold water again, this time in a glass. Long, silent gulps of icy liquid. Just a dream, and nothing else. This water was real, nothing else. Those neon lights were real, nothing else.

Now the best thing to do would be going back to bed, before Mon woke up. He had a funny way of sensing if anything was wrong. He could snore at heart’s content, spread over the bed like a cute and powerful wizard he was, but the tiniest strange noise would wake him up in no time. Inuchan sighed. The room meant the comfort of his body….but also the possible coming back of the dream (Was it just a dream anyway?).

She picked the bed cover up, wrapped herself inside,

This is your Coat of Arm, you Mighty Warrior…


and switched out the lights. I dare you walking down that hall up to the kitchen, and don’t dare switching on the light of that hall, you are not a kid anymore. And besides Han…Err though girls aren’t afraid of darkness.

She thus walked, repeating at each steps that “darkness was just the absence of light”.

Mon please wake up now, and hold me tight, and make me giggles like you always do….

Kitchen.
Empty, silent, no monsters, even in the cupboards.
No big deal, really.
She opened the glass window-door, leading up to the balcony of their apartment. From there, she could see the shimmering lights of the city. A city that never slept. She gazed at the tiny orange spots, her ears twitching at a distant engine roar. The digital clock near the door flashed 3h23 am in green numbers. Morning had never seemed so far away….. She shivered, and closed the door. Silence again.

Inuchan’s senses were all awoken though. She could have sworn she had felt a presence. Not him, please not that man. A worried voice was pleading in the deepest of her heart. She felt the urge to curl up under the table, and hide under that bed spread, yes, that was the best thing to do. And if she closed her eyes tight enough the darkness would vanish. The switch was too far away for her to reach it anyway. Mon, I am begging you please wake up, please call me up, please.

Footsteps in the hall.
She crouched near the table, trembling.


Then a flooding of light, setting the kitchen to what it was: a kitchen, and herself to who she was : a girl crouching on the cold tiles of an innocent kitchen.

-Honey? What are you doing on the floor? Asked a bemused, though slightly worried Mon.

She stood up, letting go of the bed spread. Instant relief had replaced the insane terror. The next thing she knew she was in her arms.

-But what…

-Nothing, she whispered. Nothing. It was just a bad dream.

His arms around her shaking body that shook no more, her face buried deep in his chest, now the whole world could stumble, she wouldn’t care a single bit. I am ok now, please bring me back to bed.

-You had a bad dream again?

A nod.

-You feel better now?

Another nod.

-Want me to make a baby to you on the kitchen table?

Inuchan giggled. Raised up her head for the first time, and met his puzzled, but loving gaze. His smile, followed by a kiss.

She grinned.

-Chiche?

sickness

i am sick
sick
sick

because of the weather

silly rain


washing my strenghts away...... ah the soft realm of a bed....

Nathalie

There is a picture I’d really wanna find back. There are three girls on this picture, two of them standing near a wooden table, facing the camera, and a third one perched on a wooden stool, her head is slightly down, her hair pouring down on her shoulders. Of the blonde girl standing next to me, I have no news since a good 12 years… Of the girl perched on the stool, I just waved her goodbye tonight.

At age 8, the three of us were best buddies ever, almost soul mates. The little blonde one, Sophie, never got on well with the little Brunette, Nathalie, and yours truly was often caught in between. But all in all, when get along well, the way kids do.We had the same dreams, the same fantasy running wild, and the three of us loved unicorns. The stories we created, then lived, made us famous and got us the reputation of “special girls “ (this is the kind rendition). We were gonna marry brothers, and live in twin houses, nothing could separate us, never.

Then life separated us.

As it often does.

I kept contacts with Nathalie the Brunette, however, and despite our lives now so different, I must say that she never, ever forgot me. Never. Up to this day, when she came along and gave my folks and I an invitation for her wedding next September.

She appeared in a simple way, in the courtyard. I was reading a book, perched in a stone, and it took me a while to remember her. Shame, I know. The young lady I had seen a year ago had now grown her hair a bit. How could I forgot her green eyes, I still cannot understand. She said hello, and suddenly all the memories were back at once. It was as if I had seen her about yesterday. So far, yet so close. So close, yet so far.

I feel stupid sometimes, for not being able of linking the people that matter to me, of assuming too fast they forget me, when it’s not. Trust more, and worry less. Because, after worries are gone, all that is left is nothing but void. Friendship is too precious, too fragile to be swept away like this.

I’ll be there on September 15th, and its gonna be Her Day, and I’ll be there to celebrate. I hope I can atone myself for all those years when I lost the contact, for all those years wasted by my fault. She came to me like the friend she has always been, honest and sincere. She shared all my childhood secrets, from saint seya to ghosts stories, from drawings to building treehouses, never judging. She was the brains and I was the happy follower, jumping along her stories like a twin mind. Hey, we even looked alike when kids.

I’ll be the fantasy elf, still dreaming of unicorns, attending the wedding of a princess, radiant in her white gown and castle upon the hill.

Be blessed always, Nathalie 

testing new template

Guess I was fed up with all this black and all this gloom.... 

say Hello to Hobbes, and to Calvin, down the page ;)