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lamerecatherine
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Name: Catherine
Interests: my daughter & son, improving my parenting skills, thinking, travel, yoga, reading, learning, history, art history, literature, gardening, ephemera, preparation & enjoyment of food, and many other deeper, darker things.
Occupation: Free thinker
Message: message me
Member Since:
9/8/2003
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| Everyone is looking for a feeling. Whatever it is we feed ourselves gives us a feeling. Porn, food, exercise, etc...
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| I want to be warm in the sun. Wrapped in blankets.
Kissed on my skin by warm, strong lips. Held by arms that aren't mine.
I want to be told I am beautiful. I want to be beheld by someone who adores me.
I want my Daddy.
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| Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant,
gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking
so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
We are all meant to shine, as children do.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously
give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear,
our presence automatically liberates others.
A Return to Love - Marianne Williamson | | |
| I am cleaning through tons of flotsam and found this floating around a box. I don't remember writing it, but it's in my handwriting. [And it's amusing, I still don't leave water by my bedside unless it is in a sealed bottle or glass carafe with a cover. I always attributed it to my Grandpa, who didn't like dust in his glass, so he covered it with a linen napkin or even a piece of paper.]
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There is something quite bizarre, inexplicable, about glasses of water. I do not mean water intended for drinking. I am referring to glasses that are made of pure, clear glass and are not fancy, with water in them. These glasses of water are not drunk, for some reason or another.
When I was a little girl and I found myself in a Japanese department store, I would wander about by myself and look at the expensive merchandise. I was just tall enough to stare directly into the glass display cases. There were usually these glasses of water placed inside, discreetly nestled among Hermès scarves and Louis Vuitton wallets. Since I was always alone, I could never ask why the glasses were there. Since I was shy -and never mind that I spoke no Japanese- I couldn't ask the salespeople.
Later, much later, I read Maupassant's short story, "Le Horla". I remember reading about much aquatic imagery -the foreign boats travelling up the Seine, instilling a silent, gothic fear. Not a xenophobic fear, but a fear of the unknown nonetheless. The narrator, describing how images would glisser, slowly rippling, as a slight breeze affects a clear and smooth surface of water. But by far, the most frightening event was the glass of water in the narrator's bedchamber. An invisible presence would drink the water in the glass overnight, while the narrator was asleep in the bed. It would replenish the spirit -the monster, the ghost. To this day I never leave water by my bedside. I would be too afraid to wake up and find it gone.
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| (Was I) In Your Dreams lyrics
Was I in your dreams, I'd like to know.
Did I touch your hand and did it feel like snow?
Try to understand while I've got you on the phone.
Did I hurt you like I know I can?
Tell me why you'd ever wanna leave your lovin' man.
Try to understand, please try to understand.
Was I in your dreams, was I in your dreams?
This dreamer died when his dreams died too.
But I don't really mind if I dream about you..
I can't say what any of that means.
Oh, was I in your dreams, late last night.
Did you hold pillow, did you squeeze me tight?
I just wanna make everything all right.
Was I in your dreams, was I in your dreams, was I? | | |
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