Just dropping thoughts

I've never really had a sense for poetry, even if I like reading some from time to time. seated in a Starbucks Coffee, I had these old feelings resurfacing that I wanted to put into words once again, and it came in the form of a poem, but since I have absolutely no clue on how to write a good poem, and since I had the beat of a song I like in mind making me choose the rhythm of the words, let's say that this is not a poem but a possible song's lyrics ^__~

As an indication, the rhythm I had in mind was from the "Who's gonna stop it?", by Olivia Lufkin. re-reading it, I can see the succession of thoughts and development is a real mess, I'll try to arrange this later... I just wanted to keep this bit safely somewhere, to not forget it ^^

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Where are you ?

Even now I can't help Thinking of you
Reminding our days together

I might not think of you as I used to
But my feelings remain strong and true
Other lovers, another life
Keep us apart and afar
Now new thoughts bind me to you
Just as tightly as before
Just like back then
As real, strong and true

My mind's clear now and I can see better
That we were both, young and fragile,
Equally needing
And how we are now, happy yet unfulfilled
Longing for this, which we forever miss

I always felt as a captive,
Imprisoned in a sweet cage,
A dear bittersweet prison
From which I nonetheless wanted to be set free of

I often thought I wished to be rid of You,
Rid of my affection for You,
Of this everlasting addiction
Freed from these buzzing thoughts
That were Numbing me as I pictured You

Now I know I don't wish to forget anything about Us
Nor will I ever forsake these days alongside You again

Innocently,
You've been a part of me
Unconsciously,
You helped me grow into this Me
Unwantingly,
As you rejected me,
You pushed me toward my present self,

Keeping me away from your everyday,
Your thoughts, your mind...
Casting me aside me like an outsider
Watching you from a distance like an unwanted visitor
You forced on me this painful gift

Was I indeed that far from you?

Now i have no idea
Of how far I am standing from You?

Did you really forget? or do you still regret?
I had stopped doubting
I've found a love for myself
You were my stepping stone and I'm grateful to you
But can't we start anew?
Can't we go back the other way?

Can my voice still reach You?
Can my heart still touch you?
Is your mind still willing to shut me out there?
Leaving me begging for you in the cold

Won't you listen to this song?
Would you rather go on with this ling-a-long
You've been humming to yourself for comfort?
Hammering it to my face, slapping me to the ground
Keeping me in a corner,
In the shadows of your heart

We can still love each other
Will you let me taunt You?
Will you let me sit close to You?
There is still a place for this love

Our feelings were true
They're still waiting for you...

[excerpt] "The give away"

This is the first piece I wrote that's part of the story I'm writing. this scene, or rather the image of it has been stuck in my head for a very long time, and one night where I couldn't sleep, I got fed up with turning in my bed and was gradually getting unnerved. I sat down, lit up the light and decided to put into words this scene I had in mind... It was already almost noon when I finished this, and I felt pleasantly empty after this, and slept verrrrry well afterwards ^___^

Notes :
- There are words that my automatic orthography corrector show me as inexistent, though I had seen them several times in books or articles.... and "some" online dictionaries have them registered...
- I'm not even sure the title is right ^^; but i wanted it that way, so I left it even though I don't know if it's correct English *sigh*
- French and English seem to have differences concerning typology, presentation, punctuation rules.. I tried to respect the English ones by what I had remarked in my readings

========= the give away =========

She was entranced. His eyes were closed, all of him was in offering. A pair of hands was cupping up his face. The woman wasn't hurrying, but merely brushing up the surface of his skin with her lips. She saw the handsome face shiver from expectation. It was a sensual scene, but the most remarkable part of it was the contrast of her cold stare on him, set up close to his serene expression. He was the very image of loving devotion, a prisoner of love...she was the caricature of a dictator, uncompassionately reigning over him.

She knew it was unseeming to observe them like she did, for that was a most intimate scene. But the girl could not find it in herself to look away : she was irrepressibly drawn to it, as if it was of the utmost necessity for her to witness it. She felt like she was in one of these dreams, where you can observe in a detached way as if inexistent, and it seems just natural that your gaze wouldn't budge from the scene, as if it had been the sole purpose of your presence here. It seemed to her that this moment would last forever, that she was stuck between the layers of times, for ever condemned to watch this cruel scene of intimacy, this masquerade of nonreciprocating feelings...this was an unfair game of offering and receiving, with no possible changing of the roles.

She watched his expression, serene yet longing for a touch, slightly tensed at the expectation of it. The woman was still coldly looking at him, his closed eyes showing a firm resolve of daring trust in her, and she looked a bit offended, ready to assault She was playing with him, and he was letting her do so. Her mouth was ever so lightly caressing his forehead, sliding along the line of his nose, pausing above his lips, and this instant seemed to rid all three of them of any breath they had, all waiting, not knowing what to think, as if this decision was to seal their destinies.

Was it the steadiness of her stare that shattered it all? Had she unintentionally thrown uneasiness in the air? The pause became a stop as the woman lifted her face away from his, and ever so slowly, as if knowing she had been there watching them all along, the handsome face turned towards her direction, opening its dazed eyes to lay them upon her.

She was struck awake into reality, and flushing from embarrassment, she turned back to her group of friends, still chatting happily by her side.
'What a fool! What was I doing, staring at them like this, how indecent of me!' she then thought that the most indecent part was actually for them to display their intimacy in public, for they were also seated with their social group. If they hadn't wished to be watched, they shouldn't be indulging in such acts here, in the first place!

To hide the shock and distress of her mind, she engaged in cheerful small talk with the girl sitting across the table, allowing herself to look at the complete opposite direction of them... this way, she could hide her cheeks reddened by both shame and dismay. And as she did so, she knew that he hadn't been fooled though, and her attempt to look unaffected by what she just saw made the truth even more obvious to his sharp eyes. She knew that all too well. She was alarmed, but knew that very awkward frenzy was all the more giving her away every passing second.

The bell rang for them to go to Mass; all parties stood up and strolled across the garden, heading for the Cathedral beyond in their usual buzzy chatting. She went along, following absentmindedly the group of light laughter, of swishing satin gowns.
'Well, now he knows', she commented to herself. 'I'm sure he had already felt it before. However doubt is a luxury he can no longer indulge into'. And as she walked next to her closest friend, she did her best to not look their way, and foolishly, for she was aware it was useless, she placed herself in the' middle of her group, so that the other feminine silhouettes could partly hide her from the couple's sight....if they were to look that way.
Yet, as she passed the tall gate of the cathedral she could not resist the masochistic temptation any longer: she turned her head a little, wondering if he was looking at her, fearing to meet disapproval in his eyes, dreading disgust at her person....but he wasn't, he was simply heading to their own dedicated bench, as if nothing had happened. She thought he looked a bit frowned, but she might have merely imagined it: the restless pounding in her bosom was affecting her logics.

She sighed with relief, but as she did, she also sensed sadness growing inside her, riping the remnants of her bleeding heart. She had wondered how he'd react, but he didn't even look her way.... she had dreaded shock or disgust from him, but far had she been to imagine how being ignored would be just as worse. She shrugged and settled down, but she could not act detached or dignified any longer.

That day, Mass couldn't reach her ears, let alone her heart.

Snow in March

The meteo had announced around friday that we'd get some snow on Sunday, March the 23rd. I thought : "no way, even if it got colder lately....". Nice weather was at the rendez-vous all sunday, but when nightfall came, around 22h, white snowflakes started to whirl down in our residence's inner courtyard...

It didn't last long, and all melted away quite fast even though the snow had been falling in much larger flakes and the wind was making them twirl with frenzy at some point. But it snowed a bit more on Monday around 2-3 o'colck in the afternoon. We were out then, and now luck, everybody whose cellphones had a camera on it were out of battery, and none of us had brought a camera.....

Yes, the weather's all messed up, but it still gives off a happy feeling to us, people without any sense of danger regarding all that, and we laugh and smile and appreciate this very belated first snow of the year for the Paris region, on Easter Day.

Ca ressemble à....

Ca ressemble de plus en plus à vrai blog ici, avec photos et gueulantes, et blablah anondins de fille! ^-^ bah, pourquoi pas, faut pas être trop sérieux dans la vie, ça la fait passer trop vite et puis j'ai faim aussi! (vu l'incohérence, on voit que j'ai trèèès faim!) ^__~

At first, I had planned to only post bits of writing, or to talk about writing in general only, but after all, why not post also about everyday life from time to time? A blog is made for this, blabbing and ranting, showing photos and saying when we're happy/unhappy ;)

I love taking pictures and buying pictures books...i don't always buy some (they're expensive! ^^) but I like strolling in bookshops and looking at some. Lately I've been looking at Victoria Frances' books, and I thought a lot of her girls and atmosphere were matching the one I have in mine for my heroine, or some places she'll go through, and thought it might help me keep a keen image of them if I buy the books.... there are days were a specific word or adjective just wouldn't come back to me, and maybe having the image under my eyes instead of just in my head could make the rebels come back faster to mind....?


Victoria Frances' art :

I'm NOT saying my girl looks like this, but sometimes, either the background or the girl's atmosphere resembles the ones I have in mind and wrote about so far, even if just a little (even if these pieces are not posted here yet^^). And above all, I like her arts, I like to have other people's opinions on them ^__^

About the artist now, often the see manga authors and how they're quite the complete opposite of their heroes (both mentally and physically), all the more when they have a peculiar style very much recurrent in every single series they write... but the funny thing is, this artist here quite resembles the heroines she draws, and she is pretty and well "formed" enough to wear the same kind of clothes for photo shootings or signing sessions :

PS: all images are clickable for a bigger size version to view ^__^
(fr): une plus grande version de chaque image est dispo si vous cliquez dessus ;)

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Yeepie! it's a new car! ^-^

Finally, we got to buy our new car... by new, I don't mean a real "new" car, it's a second-hand one, but the condition is mint and the kilometers very low....

Anyway, it's a cute little "Smart" ^___^ these little urban cars that are quite popular in the big cities of Europe ;p A real publicity spot for it had been included in the Da Vinci Code movie (it was stated nowhere in the book that it was a Smart, but..)

I didn't get to drive it yet..... The insurance has been set on my b/f as first driver, and a paper is still missing for adding me as a second, occasional driver.... paper which my parents' insurance company said didn't exist.... we're not going anywhere on this, it's quite frustrating :)

We plan on going around with it once Summer will be there, for e.g, we'd like to go visiting the Castles around the Loire ^___^

Doesn't it look just like a little orque? (^__~)

Heheh! Donc oui, on s'est acheté une petite "smart for two" d'occaz, une plutôt bonne occasion pour remplacer notre vieille caisse qui nous a lâchés l'an dernier! Les beaux jours vont arriver, et les balades dans la région aussi! En été, on a l'ambition de faire les Châteaux de la Loire! hihihi!

En fait, des proches critiquent cet achat car on conduit peu et sort peu... on va au boulot/école en RER-métro, donc on se sert de la voiture le week-end surtout, principalement pour les courses et un petit tour dans la région (77), ou quand on nous demande de rendre visite à quelqu'un qui habite en Île de France, mais à 1h45 de transport de chez nous contre 40min-1h en voiture....

Déjà, c'est dans leur intérêt aussi, qu'on ait une voiture, car quand c'est chiant d'aller leur rendre visite, on a encore moins envie de le faire..... ;) forcément.

Ensuite, c'est parce qu'on sort peu qu'on doit se couper toute possibilité de le faire! >___<; Photos from our visit of the Vaux-le-Vicomte Castle, last summer. It was a night time visit, I loved it! An example of what we could visit now that we got our new car! this castle may well be in the same region as ours, it doesn't mean that it's easy to go there without a car ;)

Visiting a castle at night is a terribly beautiful experience, the place holds a mysterious aura then, with all the dark spots, the shadows of our silhouettes dancing at our feet on the walls, the candle lights teasing, urging us to fall under their spells. Night and its darkness conferred an eerie feeling to it, much to my pleasure! The lights and colors were just beautiful...


Other shots :

....

I remember when my teacher....

My first rant-remark of the blog ^__^; you don't have to read all this, I just needed to say it ;p
If you really want to though, or if you're damn bored, just click on the "read more" under ;)
[edit] okay, I wanted to use the "hide/show" or "read more" features, but the tutorial on these seems to be out of date.... -____-


Coincidentally, my most interesting teachers were also the strictest ones, and by strict, and I mean STRICT as in unforgiving and sharp-tongued ;) But, I often thought they were quite fair in their remarks.... it's just that those were the bluntest I've had the occasion to hear in my life, even after being out of school.

When we're still in high school, we tend to think : "The teacher is so harsh! Of course, the student was at fault for asking a question whose answer had been given 2 minutes before, but still, she didn't have to be *aggressive* sarcastic about it....." Well, like always, putting oneself into her shoes isn't the same as experimenting what she is now.

I'll get more clear on this :

The forums I join in are often the English-speaking ones, for many reasons, i'm not interested in joining in French-spoken manga discussions. Being often *the* French girl out here, I get asked some questions about my wonderful language by some of those courageous teens learning it, and I'm truly happy to be of help, really! After all, I've always wanted to become a language teacher.

Now, that doesn't mean that I have to be even more patient than the teachers they have at school, who are PAID for the time and efforts they spend on them, and all this is work that fits in their daily lives, not included in their hobby time, like for me. I have my own studies going on, and as a university Language and Civilization student, there are a couple of things that just don't seem forgivable anymore....

So, when I get asked repetitively to give the translation of a single, common word, not even a phrase, an expression or a colloquial smthg, I start to get pissed at repeating : "you know, there is this WONDERFUL online, free French-English dictionary that * I * use daily when I'm only talking to you guys and not sure of a term..... ". Without even speaking of politeness or efforts, wouldn't it be way faster to type this word in this online dico, press enter and get the answer at once rather than typing it in the forum, pressing enter, then waiting for me to get my ass there and decide I'm bored enough to actually give the answers?

Other thing I hate in this line : they give me their essay, I explain where there are faults that require actual explaining and explain them,then I'm diplomatic enough to point out where "stupid faults" (orthography, typos or missing plurals) are but leave them correct them themselves (yeah I'm not that dumb yet) and tells them they can re-write it with my explanations... and then she re-posts one so that I can check it again, and yes, with changes.... but still the exact same mistakes I corrected or pointed out before........ Now how do we say in English : "tu te fous de moi ou quoi?"... that'd be the colloquial and rude way to say "are you messing with me?" :) I think you get the idea....

Now, maybe you never tried such a thing, but by "pointing out" stupid faults, I mean underlining her every single faults using codes.... and even if it's still way faster than actually trying to explain that in French just like in English, plural nouns take an "s" and verbs must be conjugated according to gender and number...it still takes consequent time ^____^; Now, I wouldn't complain if the girl was obviously a real beginner, but what beginner could write a page worth essay? Correcting this via a forum, using colors and codes to make it easily understandable, I spent 1h30 doing it.... all that to see the person hasn't even taken the time to copy-paste my corrections in her new version? I'm not even mentioning not putting the plurals where they still belong!..... --_____--

I'd like to help people, but serious people, not those nice ones who, maybe they don't realize it but, actually abuse my kindness and ask for a beating! Why is it that each time I try to volunteer and help someone, I always get an "unworthy of my efforts and investment" person? >_<>

Now I need someone to give me an English expression corresponding to : "prendre quelqu'un pour une poire" or "être bonne poire" or "être pris pour la queue de la poire"......

I miss my godly English teachers, might they win the lottery or smthg for bearing with a bunch of this throughout their career

Writing & Rain

Introduction to what I write.
I got fed up with running away and started writing what I want a month ago... pretty recent huh? ^-^
So far, I write two kinds of texts:

On one hand, there's a story I've started, I always write down bits when they come to me through a mental image. Of course I have an overall idea of the story and the characters' development, but I want to leave some freedom to my creations : there are some days where a strong idea comes to mind and at this moment, it feels obvious that the bit will be good for the story, even if it's not always coherent with what I already had in mind.... So I either adjust the rest, or write the idea in a note to decide later, but if I absolutely want to keep it as it came to me, I try writing the scene before I "lose" its atmosphere : this is when the best ideas flow one after another without warning.... editing and fixing the coherence will come after :) I always revise them many times before showing them, so a lot have been done but aren't ready for viewing yet ^__~ They'll be posted with no consideration to their chronological order or whatsoever....

And there's on the other hand, things I wrote, still out of the spur of the moment, but about my own feelings or reflexions. I just feel like writing it down, get it out of me, and why not, keep it as a souvenir ) The piece I'll put below is one off them. I had "my" feeling, "my" reflexion, and I wanted to describe it. I knew how I had to start telling it all, and how I wanted to finish it, but in the middle, i had an idea of how it could fit in my story, how the main character would see it too, so the second paragraph is more viewed from her point of view... but I still wanted to end it as originally planned, so I tried to attach them all together, and this is how we have today's piece ^^

******* * About Rain * *********

This a bit I wrote when I awoke one day and saw it rain drops splatter on my window. Usually, I revise my writings a lot before ever showing it to anyone, but this time, I just put down whatever I wanted and briefly re-read to correct small mistakes (orthography and typings). A native-English speaker forum buddy told me there were awkward parts, but didn't have the time to tell me where yet :) But I decided to put it here nonetheless, so you can see what flaws remain of my writing in English ^_^;


It's raining outside. Could I be really tired? I sense melancholy and blandness filling me up. People are said to sadden on rainy days, but I don't think the phenomenon to be true on me. I had always loved rainy days. From the light misty rain to the heavy pounder of a cloudburst, they've all rung to my ears like misfortune companions, crying alongside you, muttering out your hidden laments, and engulfing you in their strong but warm embrace. Chasing your painful thoughts out of you by their entrancing singing, growing up and buzzing stronger in your head every minute, they rock you back and forth until they leave you laying down feeling empty of unnecessary feelings, finally dull enough to sleep.

In my homeland, rain often pours violently, its wrath making some tremble with fear, others with pleasure. But always, its strength impresses deep feelings into the people, its beauty, one day exalted the other graceful, enchant any artist's eyes and ears. However here, in the grand city of light, only drizzles come down on us, inspiring nothing but a slight annoyance at this meek manifestation of Nature. No beauty, no power oozes from it, and it can only rise boredom inside people's hearts.

This may well be why I feel sad today : this curse of boredom is gaining territory inside of me. I should leave this town soon, lingering any longer could devour me further, little by little it is true, but the changes are undoubtedly real. Watching the drips knocking scarce on my window, I feel like going out, raising my hands high to meet this natural flow and close my eyes upon reaching it, delighting in its presence.

But what's dripping outside isn't the engulfing flow of the downpour I've grown up alongside with, but this meek, weak and colorless drizzle. I'm looking at it with the yearning of someone about to reunite with an old lover, while I know what's waiting outside is not this old friend in which I've so often found comfort, and this, is perhaps what grieves me so today : beyond this glass outside, is no more than the shadow of an old companion.

Dreams of an Artemis

Why "Dreams of an Artemis"?

Several reasons made me choose this title for my first blog.

- First : "Artemis" - I have always liked greek and roman mythology, from this I got interested in the planetory systems and such as a kid. Amongst all the great mortals and gods of this mythology, the Lunar Goddess, Diana, Artemis, Phoebe, Selene, has been one of my favourites, and her love with the Mortal Prince Endymion seemed poetic and simply fabulous to my 9-year-old eyes.... I guess it left a mark in my mind after all these years ;)

- Second : I recently discovered the new blog of my favourite writer, Diana Gabaldon, which is called "Voyages of the Artemis", and the title seduced me at once, of course.... so yes, I guess you could say it's a reference to her blog. I hope it won't be considered as plain offensive copying if she ever stumbles upon this blog :/ (or worse, I wouldn't like any fans' wrath over this matter through heavy spamming....O_o)

- Lastly : Why "Dreams".... Diana Gabaldon is now famous, and her continuing work Outlander is now rivaled by her new projects, so we could say her literary career is a "Voyage" still going on. On the other hand, I just only recently took the courage to take time writing and let my impulse go free : I'm only at the beginning of my literary "career", which isn't one per say, since I'm not doing it as a professional or anything.... So I'll call my literary journey a succession of "Dreams" compared to her actual achievements. They're part of many readers' reality, and of course of her family and friends' lives, while mine is still only affecting Me, myself and I.... it's in my head....and my still few written texts.

Ahhh....as usual, I meant to write something short, and tons of lines lie there now, who in the world would read this bunch of blabbing? or maybe this is just for me alone for now ^__^ hehe, I don't know where this will go....

Is it really a good idea to post my writing here in the first place? I'm not really sure but I don't have English classes anymore, no teacher to correct or guide me, so if constructive remarks or encouragements can be gained through here, I have very little to lose :)

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