tbt – poetry

Draw me

Draw me in an ocean
Draw me in the sand
Draw me in the seas
Draw me on the land.

Draw me on the clouds
And push the sky away.
Draw me under your skin
In this special magic way.

Draw me in your music
And draw me on your sheets
Draw me in your mind
Draw me when we are in heat.

Draw my silhouette
Draw my soul
Draw my flaws
And draw what makes me whole.

Draw me in my sleep
Draw me on my knees
Draw a picture of me on your heart;
For I am your most precious piece of art.

(November 2017)

Thoughts I have when I cannot sleep

  • Why do women never tell the woman sitting across from them that their make-up traveled from their eyes to their cheeks?
  • I drove too fast tonight, but the highways were empty – and I enjoyed speeding more than I should
  • I also sang at the top of my lungs
  • In my car
  • After midnight
  • I cannot sleep after a night like tonight – but only good things happened
  • This will be the first post in a week. I am not on a hiatus. I just don’t have anything to say
  • Am I happy? No. But I am content. And maybe that is more important
  • When I wear new mala beads (received new ones today), my wrist begins tingling, and heat spreads up my arm. It sounds weird, but it is my truth
  • I was called a hippie because I want my kids to be conscious people who see nature and their environment with open and critical eyes
  • Tonight, I learned that I am allergic to dogs as well. Swollen and itchy eyes. Stuffed nose for no reason. Another thing to add to my list
  • My cousin made dinner for me tonight – for the first time ever. And it was delicious.
  • I emptied my closet today. I threw many things away. I noticed that I only kept dark clothes.
  • I am having a week off work, but I can’t stop thinking about it because many things will be changing soon – like me working 36 hours/week for the next six weeks β€” paid overtime.
  • If I continue to edit and add to my book, it will be more than 300 pages long. #proud
  • I voted yesterday. Because we are obliged by law, but also because I believe that every vote matters.
  • If you don’t vote, you are not allowed to complain – you didn’t even try to change anything
  • I learned that I am a lazy parent. It is a concept. Read about it…
  • Whenever I need to introduce myself, it sounds like this: my name is Cathy, I am 36, a mom of three (14,10,8), and I work at a nursery.
  • I don’t know why people should like me, apart from the obvious reasons: I am awesome, and I am unique
  • Sometimes, I am a narcissist
  • I gave someone a gift wrapped in leftover paper from Christmas
  • On IG, someone read my poems (more than once) during a Livestream
  • I want to read my poems too, but my lisp and my accent are holding me back – I have a good voice though, sensual
  • Too many women are pregnant right now
  • I want a baby too! That is only half-true. I am very glad I am not having another baby.
  • My kids allow me a lot of freedom
  • I treated myself to a new tank top today. The price tag came with the following quote: β€œWhatever it is you’re seeking won’t come in the form you’re expecting.” ― Haruki Marukami.
  • My mind is full
  • My mind is empty
  • And for everyone who wondered, all is well
  • I made the beds and shaved my legs… Most days, I lack the energy to do that.
  • My curiosity got the best of me, and now I am watching Dynasty, and I can’t stop, and there aren’t that many episodes left.
  • This post doesn’t make much sense
  • It makes a lot of sense
  • I am still here, still creating, still inspired by you
  • Hugs make everything better (but unfortunately, I don’t like to be touched – I don’t like the feeling)
  • The last song I listened to Otis Redding – that’s how strong my love is
  • The last person, I messaged: Robert
  • Where am I? In my bed.
  • Goodnight and thank you for diving into my mundane thoughts with me tonight.
  • 39
  • There is an owl near by. It is very loud.
  • 1:06 am
  • Be kind. Be grateful. πŸ’œ

One of those nights…

My last nights have been bad. I had nightmares, almost every night. Completely out of the blue and in no relation at all with my life. Most times, the nightmares are about my kids or my mom. And I reached a point where I prefer not to sleep at all out of fear to have a nightmare again. But, to be honest, no sleep is not an option either… It makes me even moodier than I usually am. But hey… The kids think that I am easy-going these days. That’s something, isn’t it?

I am spending my nights differently… Taking selfies and putting one million filters on them. (Or only two: vignette and b/w)


Reading stories on the mighty internet, or reading books; watching movie after movie; playing stupid games on my phone… Whatever kills time.

Tonight’s movie:


Released in 1996 and directed by James Foley. Awesome thriller with Mark Wahlberg and Reese Witherspoon and many other known faces. A love that turns into an obsession… One of those movies I have seen too many times. And also one of the first times that I got in touch with the music of Bush.

Seeing that the film is 23 years old, it is charmingly outdated too

Good night…


Dear reader,

As you know, I am pretty hard on myself all the time. I am not very nice to myself. But, you are. You never hold it against me. You are never pressuring me to write more poetry again. You never tell me to stop whining. And I thank you for that. This blog is my safe haven. And yet, I censor my posts all the time. Not too sure why though. It is what it is. I feel safe to ramble here and to let my mind wander. This is where reality and fiction merge; which means that a lot of what you can read here is fiction. A lot is reality. Which is which will never be known. Or maybe it is easy to identify, once you get to know me.

A milestone is in reach for me. Two hundred ninety-nine (299!) amazing people are following this blog β€” peanuts for some, mind-blowing for me. I am just a no one in this world really, and yet you all mean the world to me.

I am not obsessed with stats (anymore), but I see you see me. And I thank you. I appreciate it a lot.

I intend to keep going with the flow and write whatever wants to be written.

Again, thank you

You matter. Remember that. You matter.


#tbt what a difference 17 years make

This is an old picture of me. I like it quite a bit. In a time without photoshop or filters, I looked like this when the sun was about to go to sleep and the first half of the bottle of wine was empty, lol

There are not many pictures of me as a young woman; here I was 19. (My husband took the photo in 2002)

I was in Brittany with my husband, my sister, and three German guys whose lack of knowledge of the French language made for a couple of running gags that are still existing 17 years later. My sister married one of the guys and ran off with him. She never came back home again. (Well, she did, but only about a handful of times in all these years…)

The woman on this picture is not the same woman I am today. And that is good. Physically, I stayed the same height, just a little wider – more to love?! Emotionally, I am a different person.

Writing these sentences is quite trying. I am not my best friend and focusing on nice things to say about myself is hard. I wrote a lot that put me down but erased all the negativity again.

The woman on the picture is a strong one. She achieved every goal without any emotional support. In fact, she was often told that she was stupid and not good enough for anything at all. A lot of my emotional damage comes from this time and the years before that. Caring for my mom as a child was challenging, but I was naive and didn’t know it any other way. It became a burden when I was a teenager. I believe that if I had been treated with more love and care from my family, a lot of my mental issues would not exist. Maybe that is a bold statement. Maybe I was born this way. Maybe I was born with a predisposition… I don’t know.

But yeah, this woman on that picture, that version of myself had a goal in life. And I achieved it. And despite everything (and the mental health…) I became a successful woman. And I did it all without any help from my family. Granted, I often wonder why no one was ever there for me in times of need, why did I have to fight alone; but in the end, it doesn’t matter. Because I got shit done. It would have been easy to find excuses, drop out of school and do nothing – but that was not how I was wired. And so, I got my driving license, I got my professional degree from a university of applied sciences, I have a family with loving children (and they are loved and supported unconditionally) and I was told often enough that I would never become a good mom when I was pregnant with my first child… No matter what I did and no matter how many successes I had to celebrate, my family always found something negative to say about it, and I was always a failure for them.

But what can we do? We all fight battles and we all have a past. I am not trying to belittle mine, but my own experiences aren’t better or worse than yours. The only difference is that they are mine…

Below is a picture of me with my two angels. They didn’t want to let me go to work so they decided to pin me down to the bed by climbing on top of me.

What a difference 17 years make!


Not a finger – I need the hand
Not the hand – I need the arm.

Not a country – I need the world
Not the world – I need the stars.

Not a minute – I need an hour
Not an hour – I need the day.

Everything – give me everything before I lose my mind.

Not a sentence – I need an paragraph
Not an paragraph – I need a book.

Not a whisper – I need a scream
Not a scream – I need a song.

Not a like – I need love
Not love – I need care.

Everything – give me everything before I lose my mind.

(repost from May 2018)

Fake smiles

Today, I logged into Facebook again. My account had been deactivated last September, and I never regretted nor missed it. I only deactivated my account because I use Messenger a lot and I didn’t want to lose that. I was not active on FB before I left. I was merely scrolling and liking here or there, but I wasn’t posting a lot. I didn’t see the need to keep an active account.

So… Today I logged in and updated my profile picture and mere minutes later, the first notifications came in. Likes and a handful of comments welcoming me back. It made me smile. It made me feel good. But all these people (apart from 1) never bothered to get in touch in any other way. No one asked if I was okay… No one was curious. Now they are. And it feels quite fake to me.

The smiles and the good feeling vanished quickly when I noticed that moved on and that I don’t have anything to do on FB anymore. (Did I grow out of it?)

The same is true for Twitter too. Twitter is like talking to yourself hoping someone else is listening. I am scrolling and reading and liking. But my own reach is minimal. I share links to my poetry or posts on here, and they are completely ignored. And it is okay. I am just wondering though if Twitter is not working for me, why should I keep it?

The thing with me and social media is simple. It makes me feel connected. Fake-connection. I don’t have friends. I have colleagues at work. I have online friends, but not real friends. Partly, it is my own doing because I prefer keeping people at arm’s length. I don’t want to push anyone away with my oddities, and that is why I just don’t let anyone in from the start. It is a vicious circle though because not having friends makes me lonely. Loneliness deepens my depression. My depression keeps people away – it makes me lonely.

Question: how does a 36yr old woman make new friends? (I am honestly clueless)

In the end, social media doesn’t connect me to other people; it disconnects me from myself.