After the cut -
After the cut -
Anonymous asked: “honestly why do girls make such a big deal about their periods? It’s just a bit of blood for few days and then it’s over. That’s nothing compared to being kicked in the balls- a confused male”
The accuracy level of this post. I can’t even.
I love the WD. There’s a lot of useful articles on there.
Just don’t get stuck in reading about how to write and forget to actually write.
I just wanted this on my blog because ships, as a general rule, are not something I discuss too often (it’s not the most important part of any story to me, I have to fundamentally appreciate/connect to the characters as separate entities first, before I can care about them together, and sometimes I’m drawn to pairs that aren’t typically ‘romantic’ or that I may not necessarily think should be sexually-based). I find I’m drawn to relationships that exist almost cosmically, in a spiritual sense, soul mates that go beyond mere romance or beyond the physical, people who are satellites and anchors for one another. Love on the whole is a grander idea to me than romance alone (though of course a LOT of the time that’s part of it, it can be body/soul, and it can simply be soul). But when two beings discover that in each other lies the other’s salvation, when connections form that can never be erased, or bonds are forged that should be impossible (and yet are immutable), when they see the beauty in one another that no one else can see - the superficial bits (gender background etc etc) disappear. It may be inexplicable, it may not always be happy (but maybe it’s rapturous); it’s necessary whether it burns eternal or only flames for a moment. And that’s true love in any sense, those are my favorite love stories. (“When love has fused and mingled two beings in a sacred and angelic unity, the secret of life has been discovered so far as they are concerned; they are no longer anything more than the two boundaries of the same destiny; they are no longer anything but the two wings of the same spirit. Love, soar.”)
And it was for a woman I didn’t know. Truth be told, I may have even lied, because I don’t even remember meeting her. I went to the service because my landlord is also a friend. He’s been an amazing help in keeping me off the streets as I struggled to find work for two solid years.
But I sat there, listening to the Christian, Buddhist, and Jewish prayers, and the Native American flutist fluting Amazing Grace, and Ziggy Marley singing about being true to himself, and I wondered what it would be like when I died.
When will it be? Will my mother still be alive? Will she have to wrestle with her guilty conscience over letting me slip away? Will she even realize that she should be guilty for the way she’s treated me these last five years?
I thought about all the people that I’ve never met who I’ve spent hours and days and weeks and years talking to, helping, pouring my heart out to them. Will they even be informed that I died? Or will they think I simply stopped paying attention?
How will this be handled? In this day and age when we have as many if not vastly more friends on the internet than we do in ‘real life’, how will a memorial service work? or would it?
There’s a man who was wonderful, and became a close friend. He had a lot of health issues revolving around surgery complications. He was told two years ago, around this time, that he wouldn’t live to see the end of the summer, and during one of our weekly phone conversations, he admitted that to me. I am one of the few who wasn’t completely shocked by his passing, no matter how much I’d hoped that his doctors were wrong.
But they weren’t.
God do I miss him. It’s almost two years later and I still fight the urge to pick up my phone and call him when I’m stressed out about something. I really believe that I wouldn’t be who I am without his strength and guidance. He’s the one who taught me to say ‘fuck it’ and let the chips fall where they may. It has been immeasurably valuable to my coping mechanisms and my quality of life.
This, of course, led me to wonder how I have or will affect others in the rest of my time here, and how I still long to write (a few) books - to create a world, or ten worlds, or a hundred, where people can get lost and find themselves, or something new. To follow in the footsteps of my idols, and to spread real love, and not the garbage that gets panhandled as such these days.
I hope that if you’ve found this message in obscurity, that it helped you wonder the same things, and if it might help you take that extra leap of courage to do things outside your norm, outside your comfort zone, and outside the realm of what you think is possible. Maybe by paying that kind of thinking forward, I’ll have already done my part, just by observing and sharing it with you.
Donna Tartt; “The Secret History”