I like this prompt if I could speak any language fluently it would be French so I can read French poetry and other works. This is my favorite French poem. I will put the English translation at the end of the blog. Also I think it is funny that is the first thing I think about being fluent in a language is reading works of art, philosophy and for leisure. Everything I do is for my leisure lol or to be relaxed. I am trying to prolong this prompt because I do not want to talk about today but it is important to discuss things that I feel uncomfortable with.
Les Métamorphoses du vampire
La femme cependant, de sa bouche de fraise,
En se tordant ainsi qu'un serpent sur la braise,
Et pétrissant ses seins sur le fer de son busc,
Laissait couler ces mots tout imprégnés de musc:
— «Moi, j'ai la lèvre humide, et je sais la science
De perdre au fond d'un lit l'antique conscience.
Je sèche tous les pleurs sur mes seins triomphants,
Et fais rire les vieux du rire des enfants.
Je remplace, pour qui me voit nue et sans voiles,
La lune, le soleil, le ciel et les étoiles!
Je suis, mon cher savant, si docte aux voluptés,
Lorsque j'étouffe un homme en mes bras redoutés,
Ou lorsque j'abandonne aux morsures mon buste,
Timide et libertine, et fragile et robuste,
Que sur ces matelas qui se pâment d'émoi,
Les anges impuissants se damneraient pour moi!»
Quand elle eut de mes os sucé toute la moelle,
Et que languissamment je me tournai vers elle
Pour lui rendre un baiser d'amour, je ne vis plus
Qu'une outre aux flancs gluants, toute pleine de pus!
Je fermai les deux yeux, dans ma froide épouvante,
Et quand je les rouvris à la clarté vivante,
À mes côtés, au lieu du mannequin puissant
Qui semblait avoir fait provision de sang,
Tremblaient confusément des débris de squelette,
Qui d'eux-mêmes rendaient le cri d'une girouette
Ou d'une enseigne, au bout d'une tringle de fer,
Que balance le vent pendant les nuits d'hiver.
— Charles Baudelaire
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Okay, so today was my first therapy session with my new therapist. I liked her, she was: friendly, engaging, communicative and told me some good advice that I have been attempting to do which is BE MINDFUL. She also gave me homework about how to identify my emotions. I have the tendency to gloss over my emotions and attempt to make them like not as important. I shrink my emotions and not like truly say how I feel. She also says I have a defense mechanism to not speak about my feelings. But she did say something that was really nice and was like "I need to have better discernment because even (her) having this first initial conversation with me she can see why people are wanting to get to know me more because I am intriguing. (bubbly)" which was super duper nice. Needless to say I am okay. I have to learn how to sit and do (create) boundaries for example like not being as close with my ex. Or saying "no" even if it is a friend however I only have 5 "no"s a month (I can be very rigid at times) I swear my personality is all over the place. Additionally, I have been attempting to type this blog for the last hour but keep getting distracted and now I need to lay down because it's Friday Eve and not actually Friday. I have been having a rough week or weird week so hopefully it ends on a high note. I did buy some books CAWWWWWW *eagle sound*
- The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoevsky
- The Complete works of Franz Kafka
- East of Eden by John Steinbeck
Also they had a pretty sky yesterday and today I am thankful I looked up. I did not take any pictures though sorry blog :-(
English version of poem:
The Vampire's Metamorphoses
The woman meanwhile, twisting like a snake
On hot coals and kneading her breasts against the steel
Of her corset, from her mouth red as strawberries
Let flow these words impregnated with musk:
— "I, I have moist lips, and I know the art
Of losing old Conscience in the depths of a bed.
I dry all tears on my triumphant breasts
And make old men laugh with the laughter of children.
I replace, for him who sees me nude, without veils,
The moon, the sun, the stars and the heavens!
I am, my dear scholar, so learned in pleasure
That when I smother a man in my fearful arms,
Or when, timid and licentious, frail and robust,
I yield my bosom to biting kisses
On those two soft cushions which swoon with emotion,
The powerless angels would damn themselves for me!"
When she had sucked out all the marrow from my bones
And I languidly turned toward her
To give back an amorous kiss, I saw no more
Than a wine-skin with gluey sides, all full of pus!
Frozen with terror, I closed both my eyes,
And when I opened them to the bright light,
At my side, instead of the robust manikin
Who seemed to have laid in a store of blood,
There quivered confusedly a heap of old bones,
Which of themselves gave forth the cry of a weather-cock
Or of a sign on the end of an iron rod
That the wind swings to and fro on a winter night.
— William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954)
"I wish I could be delicate or fascinating / Wondrous / or consuming / But I yell into whispers / and wobble uncertainty on cement. / I am plain, and unideal and painful, / I despise myself too, dear." - E.G, Delicacy
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