thoughts from the raft. #1

catefrances

she hadn't seen him for the longest time. not since that day. and when she did it broke her heart. he looked like absolute shit. she'd seen him like this before though. he stood at the very edge of the platform. she could see his toes hanging over. he was contemplating something. what, she didnt know... yes she did. she knew what he was thinking. and she didnt want to be around to see it come to fruition. he needed saving from himself but she wasn't sure she was strong enough. or even if he wanted to be saved. she'd been through this more than once with him and it didnt get easier. she swore she wouldn't go through it again. the wind whipped up and she pulled her coat tighter around her body. she watched him. he swayed a little and stared into oblivion. was that her prime concern? breaking a promise to herself. that wasn't her. she had loved this man. part of her still did. but she couldn't watch him kill himself with that junk. a train coming into the opposite platform startled him. at the same time one arrived in front of her. people moving blocked her line of sight. when they dispersed, she looked up but he was gone.

catefrances

tired tired tired. she drinks to forget and to numb herself. and she pays for it in the morning. barely able to drag herself out of bed, she operates on instinct alone. the kids go to school and she is alone with herself. she does not like the company. she can't keep her thoughts straight and she paces the house like a caged animal. her actions reflect her mood and she doesn't want to be here. what she does is enough only to maintain a very shakey equilibrium. she knows what is expected of her. she doesn't care. she ignores them all and does nothing she wants. she doesn't know what she wants. that's the problem. she looks around and absorbs what is expected of her and then ignores it. she also ignores what it is she desires most. freedom. to do what she wants. without any ties. she is tired and takes another mouthful.

catefrances

again she is tired. again she paces the house like some deranged caged animal. again she is at a loss figuring what she can do. she tries to distract herself but nothing works. she paces. she thinks about telling him how she feels. she changes her mind. she wants to tell him. he wants her happy. she tries. when he makes her laughs it makes her feel good. for a time. so many times she starts to tell him but stops. he doesn't need to hear it. she needs to tell someone. it eats her insides out and she wonders how much longer she has to live with this feeling. she gets irritable. she gets frustrated. she needs some kind of distraction. but she has nothing.

catefrances

she lived in a security building. damn he needed to be buzzed in. he found her name and pressed the button. a second later he pressed again. hello? just the sound of her voice made him mute. hello? he heard a click and she was gone. he leant against the bricks, trying to regain his breath and his nerve. again he pressed the button next to her name. HELLO. her tone was more terse. he said her name. silence. he heard her sigh. she told him he shouldn't be here. he needed to see her. he mentioned he had, earlier. she admitted that she too had seen him. he apologised. for what she wasn't sure. for him, it didn't matter what. his fucking up and her leaving was his fault. that was at least the one thing they could both agree on. he heard her sobbing. when he said her name it was with tenderness. his head still rested against the bricks. his fingers gently stroked the brass name plates, as if he was somehow trying to touch her. he wanted to see her. to talk to her. he said he needed to be near her. more silence. he said her name again. the fact that she didn't ask if he was stoned gave him pause. could she tell just by his voice? well of course she could. they'd been togtheer long enough for her to know him even if she were blindfolded with earplugs in. besides he was certain she could hear the desparation in his voice. a minute later he heard the front door click open. he smiled as it closed behind him.

catefrances

she finds him comatose. naked, lying on his belly, one hand hidden beneath the pillow. the other arm dangling over the edge of the bed. crumpled sheets discarded at the foot of the bed. his high white arse revealed for all to see. she can't resist drawing her hand over that perfect orb. as she turns away she feels his hand on her thigh. it slides upwards, stopping her cold. she waits to see how far it will travel. when it goes as far as it can, she feels it go just a little further. she steps back closer to the bed. he rolls over onto his back and she climbs onto the bed beside him. not a word is spoken as they look at each other. this beautiful man who she fights with but loves. this beautiful man who sold his drumkit to a neighbourhood kid for the price of a fix. this beautiful man who despite the scars both on the outside and invisible makes her the centre of his world. does he do this for her or for himself. she is his anchor as much as he is hers. they spend the remainder of the afternoon in bed. it is all about feeling. anxious. delirious. satiated. about being wanted. needed. melting into one being. the heat from their bodies keeping them warm as the shadows lengthen. the sky darkens and a harvest moon hangs low in the eastern sky. bats fly across its face and he traces his fingers over her body. the window is open and she shivers. from the cold or his touch she is not sure. he shifts and she knows what is coming. she rolls away from him as he reaches under the bed for his works. she closes her eyes and prays that this will be the last time. it's a fools prayer. she glances over her shoulder and sees his body hunched over, as he sits on the edge of the bed. she counts to ten, gets up and walks out of the room.

catefrances

he said he'd be back later that night. she glances at the clock on the stove and wonders exactly what later that night means. she knows with him it could mean anything. but she wants to believe when he says it he means the same as when she says it. she knows that is not fair of her. he is not capable of looking at the concept of time as she does. or anyone else for that matter. he measures time by how long it was since his last fix. and how long it will take him to waltz across the city to his dealer. he has no power over it. or so he likes to think. it is convenient for him to think he is powerless. she knows this. she has no power over him. or like him chooses not to. he comes as he needs to. and she allows it. she'd rather he stopped of course. but she'd rather when he was using that he was with her. that she knew he was safe. she poured herself another glass of wine and listened to lou reed. the apartment grew colder and the clock chimed a late hour. she heard a thump against the door. a laugh and then she heard him swear. still carrying her glass which seemed to be everlastingly full, she went to let him in.

catefrances

worms are icky. my friend told me something and said it opened a can of worms. i'm wondering now, exactly where one buys a can of worms from. the supermarket? the baitshop? do worms even come in cans? worms are wiggly. my friend said his guy is... how shall i put this? unpredictable? he said the doctors said the dosage had to be raised and then all would be right within his lover's world. the doctors are liars. nothing is ever right within this world. for a little while it may appear so, but then something happens, or doesn't happen as the case has been more times than i can count on my fingers. my friend wants his lover whole not full of holes. he gets angry and hates everybody. he locks himself away and refuses to eat. he cries and we can hear him hurting himself. he calls out that he is okay. but he lies. but then i think maybe he thinks he is okay. then it isn't a lie is it? once while my friend was in hospital, his lover painted the pieta. in blood. his blood. it was perfect until we noticed he'd depicted himself as christ. worms are tasty he once said. and to prove it to us he ate one. then another. he smiled the whole time. so raise the dose, kill the voices. kill the voices, deaden the heart. yep. a can of worms has indeed been opened.

catefrances

waiting for him to climb the 4 flights of stairs, she paced nervously. she wasn't sure this was such a good idea. yes, she loved him. had been in love with him. but now? she wasn't so sure. she wanted to, but he hurt her. he never hit her or anything like that. but he stole. and he lied to her. and continued to use. she tried to fool herself that his addiction was nothing to do with her. that he could keep his two lovers separate. and for a while that worked. but coming home one day she found him on the bed, the needle still in his arm. the doctors said he should have died that day. but she knew how stubborn he could be. she smiled knowingly and thought that yes one day he would. she didnt want to be around for that. she left him. now here she is, listening as his feet pound the wooden stairs. he's taking them two at a time. then there's silence. she knows he has stopped, getting himself together, thinking whether this is a good move for him. there is a faint knock.

catefrances

someone came into my room while i slept. he reached into my chest and ripped out my still beating heart. when i awoke i saw him. blood dripped down his chin and his white shirt was stained with my life. he looked at me and smiled. i thought, this doesn't hurt as much as i thought it would. then i wondered how much i actually thought death would hurt. he came to me and wrapped his snow white arms around my body and held me close as the last breaths left my lungs. he kissed my blue lips, laid my head upon my pillow and fanned my hair out so it framed my face like a halo. i could see this all happening but was powerless to stop any of it. as i faded away i heard the sobs of my family. i said out loud that i was okay. my sister went to my window and threw back the curtains. she opened the window and screamed into the sunlight. i screamed with her, but she didn't hear me. my brother picked up the purple rabbit i always slept with and left the room. he would sleep with it himself every night until his own death four years later. as the weeks went by, my mother carried on as she had always done. she drank and buried her feelings in mindless television talk shows. my father couldn't cope with her and left to live with one of his students. when the school found out they fired him, the student left him in disgrace and my father came back to my mother. she hardly noticed. but i did. i watched them all and wondered if, had i lived, things would have turned out any different. someone told me that was my ego talking, so i never spoke of it again.

catefrances

http://forums.pearljam.com/showthread.php?t=240652

catefrances

when she opened the door, she was unprepared for what she saw. he stood in front of her like a wraith. sure she had seen him on that train station platform, but here he was standing a foot in front of her. her sharp intake of breath betrayed her. she saw him physically shrink into himself. she smiled but it came across as more sympathetic than pleased to see him. when he suggested he leave, she stopped him. she reached out and laid her hand upon his arm, gesturing for him to come inside. almost as soon as he sat down he got agitated and stood up. she understood his need to pace. she had seen it before. she watched him as he trod a path around her space. and she listened to him tell his stories. he got excited. and he got angry. he got remorseful. and he declared his love for her. he asked to see his child. this was when she cried. she didn't want to deny him his daughter. but she didn't want to expose her child to an addict father. she hesitated and he got defensive. then he got aggressive. she told him he had to leave.

catefrances

for the following weeks she couldn't concentrate enough on her work to finish anything she started. she was unhappy with what she managed to accomplish. or not accomplish as the case may be. she snapped at her child unintentionally on more than one occasion and then had to comfort her. she was allowing him to get back inside her and she hated herself for it. she hated him for putting her in this position. she knew his addiction was a sickness but she wouldn't allow him that concession. when the opportunity arose for her to leave the city on business she eagerly accepted the offer. she could take her daughter with her. they both needed a change of scenery. she made plans. but just like a monsoon bringing the storms, he showed up again. he was high and she hated him for it. she didn't need this in her life. when she told him he couldn't be in her life, he snapped. he grabbed her by the throat and pushed her against the wall. momentarily stunned she did nothing more than stare at him. and then the rage built inside her. with all her strength she pushed him away. he stumbled and landed on his arse on the floor. she told him he was a sick pathetic loser and she never ever wanted to see him again. then she told him to get the fuck out of her apartment and stay the hell out of her life. she retreated to the bathroom and hoped he'd leave.

catefrances

she likes being alone. she hates it too. but she likes it too much to make the effort required to not be alone. she does not like people. or she convinces herself she doesn't cause it's easier that way. she gets annoyed with herself just like she gets annoyed with people. she is arrogant. she says she's not and tries to convince herself of that fact. she knows if she left it wouldn't matter. the world would still turn and no one would die from her leaving. she doesn't want to leave cause she is waiting for something. she's not sure what that something is but she is certain she will know when it appears. or should that be if it appears. she really does hate herself sometimes. people laugh it off as her just being weird. they think she is joking. she is not. she rarely jokes about anything. and when she does it is to cover up her malaise. so many times she wishes that she won't wake up. so far her wish has not been granted. she suspects it never will be.

catefrances

she didn’t fall in love with an addict. she fell in love with a man. she remembers the first time she saw him. he was in the middle of a raucous circle of acquaintances. mid laugh he looked up at her and met her gaze. she held it until the girl friend she was with nudged her. they circled each other all night. he trying to move in. she trying to evade him. she wasn’t sure why she was so reticent. she put it down to shyness and his reputation with the ladies. and a couple of the guys if she was to believe the rumours. she got drunk that night. her friend went home with another so she was left to make her own way home alone. she didn’t notice him until she was out on the street in the cold night air. a sharp intake of breath went straight to her head. she heard him cough behind her. she didn’t turn around because her head hurt too much. five words later, four from him, one from her and they were locked in conversation, walking down almost deserted streets towards her home. two blocks from her street, the heavens opened and they ran through pounding rain to her front door. dripping wet and now shivering from the cold, they huddled under a tiny verandah as she fumbled for her keys. they were the same height so when he leant into kiss her, she didn’t have to stand on tiptoes and he didn’t have to bend himself down before their lips met. the only other place this generally occurred with a couple was in bed. so in public their kisses came to hold extra meaning. he stayed the remainder of the weekend, disappearing before the sun rose on monday morning to change his clothes for work.

catefrances

the first time she saw him shoot up she was disgusted. she walked out and left him to his own devices. it didn't anger her that he took drugs. what angered her was that she felt guilty for leaving him. she was angry at herself. she knew she could handle this. she'd had pot smoking boyfriends before. she'd had pill popping boyfriends before. she imagined it wasn't much different having a boyfriend that shot his drugs into his arm. she walked around the city for ages. she debated with herself about going back and how if she wanted to she really should have already gone back to his place. he could be dead for all she knew. she didn't want him thinking she was some nubie. that she couldn't handle him sticking himself with needles. truth was she wasn't sure she could. what she did know was she wanted him. and right now to her that's all that mattered.

catefrances

when she is alone in her space she is content. she wonders where he is, but not to distraction. she knows if she allows that then it will drive her crazy. she has to allow him the room he needs to do what he does. when she is alone she listens to the music he introduced her to. she slips dave matthews into her stereo and drifts away. it is dave's voice that brings him closer to her. she can practically smell him as she listens to crash into me.

touch your lips just so i know. in your eyes, love, it glows so. i'm bare boned and crazy for you.when you come crash into me, baby.

she closes her eyes, sips her wine and dances her solo on the persian rug he rescued from a dumpster the first night they met. she hears the noises of the city and wonders where he is. she hopes he is safe. she knows he's not. not from himself.

catefrances

she'd fallen asleep on the couch. an empty bottle on the floor beside her. the sound of his banging on the door woke her. swinging her legs onto the floor she knocked the bottle over. she righted it and made her way to let him in. he smiled his stupid stoned grin at her and leant in to kiss her. she stepped back out of his grasp. he frowned. then shrugged it off. when she closed the door, he took her in his arms, dancing her around the room. his mood was infectious but she'd drunk too much and her head spun. she felt his hand on her breast and every thought she had disappeared. she kissed him gently and taking his hand led him to the bedroom. when she woke in the morning with the harsh sun hitting her in the face, he was still asleep beside her. his mouth a little open, his hand resting on his belly. she climbed out of bed and walked naked down the hall. splashing cold water on her face, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. her eyes were sunken, her skin tight from dryness. she ran her hand over her skin. she could smell him on her. she sighed at the thought of him.

catefrances

he climbs out of bed silently. he looks over at her sleeping form and a sadness creeps over him. throwing a sweater on he leaves the room and walks downstairs. a new day barely born brings no solace. it's been months since they connected. he cant remember when it started to change, but what they have now slowly dying. he thinks back and remembers a temptation denied. he remembers words spoken. of chance. of sacrifice. he boils the kettle and looks around him. the children's toys litter the floor. he sighs. he gave all he could and he is tired. he doesn't know what else to do. a dog barks somewhere. he hears footsteps on the stairs. she stands in the doorway, her nightdress barely concealing her curves. neither of them smile. neither of them say a word.

catefrances

she is baffled. she went to sleep the night before with such expectancy. now in the harsh light of a summer's day she has no idea what happened. she can sense his presence and yet he is gone. or was he never really there to begin with? his books still line the shelves. his jacket hangs on the back of the door. she goes to it, burying her face in the cloth and breathing his scent in. sometime during the night he made his decision. he didnt wake her. just stole into the night. not taking anything with him but his own self. he has done this before and it never gets any easier to deal with. she knows he will come back. he always has in the past. but she also knows that one day he might not return. she never knows if this is the one time he will fail to return. she never knows until she walks in and finds him asleep in their bed. or sitting at the kitchen table. she will never know until he fails to return.

catefrances

i had a dream about you just the other night. i came to you in your empty house. it was broad daylight. a sharp intake of breath. a smile. you didn't dare touch me lest the contact seal the deal. as you closed the door behind me i touched your back. i laid two hands flat and kissed your neck. you whispered something i didn't quite catch. you wouldn't repeat it. i was here because you needed me. the words you couldn't say out loud. they didn't really need to be said anyway. that was beside the fact. i wasn't here to talk. though we both did enjoy our conversations. i gave you what you wanted, what you asked for and didn't refuse you a thing. you drank it in greedily as if breaking a drought. and we both knew you were.

chadwick

catefrances wrote:

i had a dream about you just the other night. i came to you in your empty house. it was broad daylight. a sharp intake of breath. a smile. you didn't dare touch me lest the contact seal the deal. as you closed the door behind me i touched your back. i laid two hands flat and kissed your neck. you whispered something i didn't quite catch. you wouldn't repeat it. i was here because you needed me. the words you couldn't say out loud. they didn't really need to be said anyway. that was beside the fact. i wasn't here to talk. though we both did enjoy our conversations. i gave you what you wanted, what you asked for and didn't refuse you a thing. you drank it in greedily as if breaking a drought. and we both knew you were.

again you pulled out a nice lil diddy for us.
nicely done miss.

so cate,when ya stopin by?
the doors unlocked.
haha..

catefrances

she can't stand being alone all the time. she knew it was something she'd have to work on. either the acceptance of her aloneness or the acceptance of someone in her life that she could live with. she liked the solitude but sometimes she just wanted more. she was easily distracted and now she wanted someone to be that distraction. she felt now was the right time for it. she didn't like to be alone. not really. she did like to remove herself from everything that swirled around her. all the things she had difficulty in dealing with. like a guitar that you used just to roll marbles along the strings when you were four years old, life wasn't something she entirely knew how to play. sure you were using it but it wasn't for the correct purpose. was it? she wanted to feel. she wanted the contact. she wanted the warm bodies together.

catefrances

she'd been gone for so long. she stood on the cracked footpath in front of the house and stared up at the boarded windows and old tyre swing. she smiled briefly at the remembrence of her brother squealing with delight as she pushed him harder and higher. a couple of times he fell off yet still he was lost in the ecstasy of childhood wonder. she looked at the windows that framed the front door. on the right was her parents' bedroom, the scene of many a vocal and angry fight. even more so after he went away. to the left was the living room, where she and her brother would watch television turning it up even louder to try and drown out their parents' warring. her bedroom was in the back of the house. it overlooked the back yard. the window in her brother's room faced the side space. and it was from here that he disappeared. nine years old and slightly built. he had a slight limp from an operation when he was 6. she should have heard something that night. their beds abutted the same wall. she heard nothing. not a whimper. not a shriek. nothing. he father accused her of some misdoing. she can't remember what but she remembers he apologised. her mother said nothing. she just cried. day after day they waited for bobby's return and day after day the disappointment grew. during those days she heard words she'd never heard before. pervert. paedophile. cunt. and what became her father's mantra, goddamn-son-of-a-fucking-motherfucking-shitheel-of-a-humanbeing. over the months she watched her mother deteriorate before her eyes. the doctors gave her something to numb the pain and so she did. she felt nothing. her father spent hours driving the streets looking for his boy. he always came home disappointed. once they heard a rumour that bobby had been seen interstate. that was 3 years after he was taken. her father got in his car and drove the thousand kilometres to bring his son home. he came home alone. not long after that her father left for good. she begged him not to go. he told her he had to. there was nothing left for him here. she never forgot that. and she never saw her father again. now here she was standing in front of her childhood horror house. still looking for answers but only finding more questions.

catefrances

she hangs the wet washing out on the line. she notices one of his shirts. it is a black tshirt. he has been gone a while, so she wonders how long it has been in the laundry. or whether she'd found it in their bedroom. she sighs. she used to love wearing his shirts. when he went away she got rid of all his clothes. at least she thought she had. she continues pegging the rest of the washing. but his shirt kept drawing her attention. she closed her eyes and tried to remember his face. she remembers his chipped front tooth. his lopsided grin. the way his fringe would flop over his eyes. she remembered how she'd brush it back from his brow and kiss him gently. his left eyebrow was split in two from some childhood accident. a scar from a bout of chickenpox when he was seven stood guard above his right eye. he had sad eyes. but sometimes they sparkled. and that was when she had to watch him.
but as she found out, she couldn't watch him all the times. there were times when he escaped. he always came back. and it was not always pretty. he wrecked himself so many times she lost count. one day, deep inside a wild winter he begged her to help him. she said no. so he pleaded with her. his cries of anguish brought her to her knees. he pleaded with her. but she refused. he screamed at her for help. but still she refused. eventually he fell asleep in her arms. it was a fitful sleep. but then again, all his sleeps were fitful. he had nightsweats and often she'd leave him to sleep on the sofa. he'd always come looking for her. and now here she was looking for him. searching her memory for him.

catefrances

she made a mistake. it didn't feel like one when she made the decision but it sure felt like one when he turned his back on her. when she listened to the messages he left on her answering machine, she could hear the hurt in his voice. she needed some time to deal with her life. she woke that morning feeling more overwhelmed than she had felt in along time. she'd thought he's understand. what it was she didnt understand was what had become his reliance on her for his sanity. the threats he left on her machine were benign. They weren't about her, she knew that. they were about him feeling hurt for not being involved in a process he thought should be a joint effort. he'd never deny her sapce, but he felt he should have at least been consulted. she thought he was stronger. later when she spoke to him about it, he said he was strong enough to deal with her absence. but what he didn't like was the fact that she excluded him from a decision that affected both their lives. she told him all she was asking for was space. for the next few days she needed to get her head straight and she told him she knew that if she broached the topic with him he'd just try and talk her out of it. he said that was bullshit. she wasn't in the mood to debate this with him. she resolved never to make the same mistake again. he meant too much to her to alienate like that again. sitting so close to him she could feel the heat coming off him, she reached out and laid her hand on his cheek. he turned his head and kissed her palm. she asked him just to hold her. so that's what he did. he wrapped his arms around her pulling her body into his and held her tight.

deadnothingbetter

when you know it, you just know it
sparks all buzzing around, inside and out

deadnothingbetter

deadnothingbetter wrote:

when you know it, you just know it
sparks all buzzing around, inside and out

i meant #74

catefrances

her breath catches in her throat. her heartbeat slows and she can feel the sadness in between every beat. a stillness envelopes her and she tries to keep it together. he was never hers. she knew that. he belonged to another, but that made no difference to what either of them felt for each other. for months now they had been trying to deny. it had all become too much. both felt a betrayal. to themselves, to the others they cared for and to each other. it just overtook them and bound them together. she knows she has to let him go, but it doesn't make her feel any better. she watches him walk away and part of her still wills him to return. her depth of feeling scares her. and now she was doing the only thing she could think of to salvage any respect she had for herself. there were things she could ask of him. but they were not fair. there was nothing fair about this. she couldn't even see a situation where there was a winnner. but this wasn't a game, so there should be no winner. but there was surely losers.

catefrances

i woke up thinking about you this morning. they were pleasant thoughts. but they were also slightly disturbing thoughts as well. they were a direct challenge to me and stopped me cold. you told me what you were willing to do and it thrilled me. you were strong and unpliant. a part of me wants that. a small smile spread across my face. i wiped it away just as quickly. i rolled over to face my lover. asleep. unaware of how my mind was dancing at possibilities that repelled me, yet drew me also. could i seek from another what i didnt get from him. what he wasn't willing to give me. i reach out my hand to feel his warm skin. when i smile this time it is because of my feeling for this man who gives me everything. except... again you sneak into my head. this is ridiculous. but i want it. if i said i wasn't reticent i'd be lying. can the trust be there enough for me to let go. can i live with the betrayal i know i will feel if i allow you to touch me. but a spark has been lit. i wonder how to tend it. or even if i should.

catefrances

she woke up alone. the house was quiet and for a minute or two she felt disorientated. it was overcast and under her layers of blankets she felt cocooned. she lay balled up, one hand resting between her knees. the other fisted near her chin. she thought of the last couple of days. of what she had done. at what she thought herself capable of and of what she found out she wasn't. she looked at her scarred skin.she ahd so much to do. she heard the noises of the neighbourhood and burrowed deeper under the blankets. she didn't want to come out. she closed her eyes and drifted off again. her dreams were of him. where he was(not with her). where she wanted to be(with him). where she knew she'd end up if she couldn't get a hold of herself(not here). would it be so bad she wondered. not for her. she'd no longer feel anything. she'd cease to exist. and that thought was appealing. she doesn't know how long she was asleep, but when she opened her eyes her son was standing beside her bed. she smiled wanly and wished she was alone again.