Let me keep you safe inside.
So you don't have to hide.
All those tears you cried.
How you tried. And lied.
Together we will navigate this ride.
Let me five you my hand.
To help you sit or stand.
And ignore what others demand.
I will understand. This grief unplanned.
Perhaps we can run away to a distant land.
Let me give you the moon.
Allow you to sleep until noon.
Act like a total buffoon.
Sing every tune. Make you swoon.
Be the fork to your spoon.
Let me brush your hair.
Agree this life is quite unfair.
Take on what you can't bear.
Show I care. Always dare.
Tell the onlookers not to stare.
Let me walk you home.
Write you a useless poem.
Talk about how we've grown.
How we can roam. Never again alone.
Venture forth into the great unknown.
Let me build you a ship to sail.
Inhale the salty air, then exhale.
Just imagine the tall tale.
Of how you'll prevail. How you drank all ale.
How you found your white whale.
Let me make you smile.
Turn away everything evil and vile.
Sit and talk to you awhile.
Walk a mile. Turn your dial.
Defeat both of our denial.
Let me validate your fears.
Bat away the danger when it nears.
Be there before the storm clears.
Wipe away tears. Unstick your gears.
Whisper the truth in your ears.
Let me be your friend.
Your broken heart I will mend.
Always be quick to defend.
A hand to lend. A letter to send.
And be there until the very end.
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Monday, August 11, 2014
My Friend Rebs
This weekend my friend visited me. She's quite lovely. Inside and out. A slender creature of undeniable beauty with a passion for terrible television shows and Young Adult novels.
I took her adventuring. She found driftwood and sea shells. We saw an owl. This was the first time I'd seen an owl and it was amazing, but because I only had my phone camera the picture came out unexceptional. No, really. This is the picture of the owl I saw:
Like I said, unexceptional. I assure you, the actual bird sighting itself was far more exciting.
Anyhow, it meant a lot for Rebs to come over and visit. As some of you may know, I relocated about a year and a half ago, leaving my friends and family on the mainland. I didn't just move for a boy. I came for a change of scenery and to fulfill the undeniable desire I had to leave the city. Even though I am not far from my friends or family, about four hours including a ferry ride, I sometimes feel a bit alone over here. Not lonely, though. Never really lonely.
It's funny how life can get in the way of what's important, like friendships and road trips and eating nachos for dinner. Sometimes all you need is to invest a few days into someone you love. This was my weekend to do so.
We reminisced about our Ireland trip. How we drove to Montana in one day (1281 KM). And road tripped down to San Francisco on a whim. We gossiped about the people we used to work with and the stories we've thought up. Movies were watched. Television critiqued. Tea sipped. Food devoured. Laughter and tears released. And a serious friendship reboot was given.
It's true friendships can end, but the most important ones are always there. Even if you move away. Or don't speak for awhile. When you reconnect, it's just like it always was: awesome.
I took her adventuring. She found driftwood and sea shells. We saw an owl. This was the first time I'd seen an owl and it was amazing, but because I only had my phone camera the picture came out unexceptional. No, really. This is the picture of the owl I saw:
Like I said, unexceptional. I assure you, the actual bird sighting itself was far more exciting.
Anyhow, it meant a lot for Rebs to come over and visit. As some of you may know, I relocated about a year and a half ago, leaving my friends and family on the mainland. I didn't just move for a boy. I came for a change of scenery and to fulfill the undeniable desire I had to leave the city. Even though I am not far from my friends or family, about four hours including a ferry ride, I sometimes feel a bit alone over here. Not lonely, though. Never really lonely.
It's funny how life can get in the way of what's important, like friendships and road trips and eating nachos for dinner. Sometimes all you need is to invest a few days into someone you love. This was my weekend to do so.
We reminisced about our Ireland trip. How we drove to Montana in one day (1281 KM). And road tripped down to San Francisco on a whim. We gossiped about the people we used to work with and the stories we've thought up. Movies were watched. Television critiqued. Tea sipped. Food devoured. Laughter and tears released. And a serious friendship reboot was given.
It's true friendships can end, but the most important ones are always there. Even if you move away. Or don't speak for awhile. When you reconnect, it's just like it always was: awesome.
Thursday, August 1, 2013
When It's Not Working
It is so beneficial to know when it's not working. When it's time to stop. Reassess. Put an end to, or take a different route. A lot of us keep chugging along, forcing it, not allowing for change or a different direction.
To be clear, I am talking about writing, but I can see how this can apply to relationships as well. Friendships. Lovers. Siblings. Roommates. Co-workers. Sometimes working, living, loving situations simply don't work. Not the way they are. Sometimes they need to be ended. Other times a tweak, twist or twerk will do.
In writing, in our novels and stories, the ones we toil over, there are mistakes. We take a left when we are supposed to head on straight through and not pass go. We collect $200 dollars when, in reality, the plot line and character development is fit for jail. In the wee hours of the night, we sit at our computers and shove another horribly clichéd chapter into a novel we are supremely unhappy with.
We need to recognize the signs of failure.
So often, we fear admitting we have made a mistake. It's the feeling of failure. Or realizing we did something wrong. But if we learn to see when things aren't working, we can change it. Shift. Rewrite. Take a character away. Move the setting. Speed up the pace. Slow down the romance. Add more sex. Erase some violence.
But what does failure look like?
When it comes to writing, it's the forced, contrived scenes that feel out of place and disjointed. These aren't working. They don't tie in with the previous chapters and are meandering words strewn across the page in a haphazard fashion, like your pen simply barfed out sentences of its own free will. Or your computer, because who the hell uses a pen anymore? If what you are writing doesn't interest you, it isn't working. If you think there is a better way, then you are failing as a writing. When you dread looking at your manuscript, it isn't working.
Fear is a crazy thing. The fear of rewriting. Of scrapping an entire book and starting again. Or not starting again. Of actually saying, this is not working, and I need to leave it alone. I am not talking about hanging your head and calling yourself a crappy writer after you've penned a terrible paragraph and eaten a box of truffles. No. I mean standing back with an objective eye and seeing it is simply not working.
Since I brought up relationships. It's pretty easy to tell if it isn't working, even though we are trained to pretend everything is fan-freaking-tastic. The same logistics apply. If you dread going to work, it isn't working. If you aren't interested in what your partner has to say, it isn't working. When you cannot stand the thought of answering your BFF's call, it isn't working. How to fix these? Well, it can be a bit more tricky.
Sometimes change will help. Shaking up the routine. I cannot stress the importance of communication, even though people hate doing it. Talk to your boss, your friend, your lover. They might realize it isn't working either. Just like your main character. Give him or her a talking to, see what they think. Hell, give your secondary characters a verbal powwow as well!
Because I am feeling optimistic and the sun is shining, I think you can put right the wrongs in your novels and love life alike. 97% of the time, I think change can help, another set of eyes, more patience, some seriously intense brainstorming. Keep in mind, fixing things is rarely ever easy or simple. But if you're willing to put the elbow grease in, you can mend the manuscript and the other more emotional stuff.
The key is being able to see when things aren't working. When the verb is still active. Before 'things not working' turn to 'didn't work'. When there is still the chance to fix them.
People tell us it is never too late. This is the biggest lie you will ever be told.
And I'll love you forever.
To be clear, I am talking about writing, but I can see how this can apply to relationships as well. Friendships. Lovers. Siblings. Roommates. Co-workers. Sometimes working, living, loving situations simply don't work. Not the way they are. Sometimes they need to be ended. Other times a tweak, twist or twerk will do.
In writing, in our novels and stories, the ones we toil over, there are mistakes. We take a left when we are supposed to head on straight through and not pass go. We collect $200 dollars when, in reality, the plot line and character development is fit for jail. In the wee hours of the night, we sit at our computers and shove another horribly clichéd chapter into a novel we are supremely unhappy with.
We need to recognize the signs of failure.
So often, we fear admitting we have made a mistake. It's the feeling of failure. Or realizing we did something wrong. But if we learn to see when things aren't working, we can change it. Shift. Rewrite. Take a character away. Move the setting. Speed up the pace. Slow down the romance. Add more sex. Erase some violence.
But what does failure look like?
When it comes to writing, it's the forced, contrived scenes that feel out of place and disjointed. These aren't working. They don't tie in with the previous chapters and are meandering words strewn across the page in a haphazard fashion, like your pen simply barfed out sentences of its own free will. Or your computer, because who the hell uses a pen anymore? If what you are writing doesn't interest you, it isn't working. If you think there is a better way, then you are failing as a writing. When you dread looking at your manuscript, it isn't working.
Fear is a crazy thing. The fear of rewriting. Of scrapping an entire book and starting again. Or not starting again. Of actually saying, this is not working, and I need to leave it alone. I am not talking about hanging your head and calling yourself a crappy writer after you've penned a terrible paragraph and eaten a box of truffles. No. I mean standing back with an objective eye and seeing it is simply not working.
Since I brought up relationships. It's pretty easy to tell if it isn't working, even though we are trained to pretend everything is fan-freaking-tastic. The same logistics apply. If you dread going to work, it isn't working. If you aren't interested in what your partner has to say, it isn't working. When you cannot stand the thought of answering your BFF's call, it isn't working. How to fix these? Well, it can be a bit more tricky.
Sometimes change will help. Shaking up the routine. I cannot stress the importance of communication, even though people hate doing it. Talk to your boss, your friend, your lover. They might realize it isn't working either. Just like your main character. Give him or her a talking to, see what they think. Hell, give your secondary characters a verbal powwow as well!
Because I am feeling optimistic and the sun is shining, I think you can put right the wrongs in your novels and love life alike. 97% of the time, I think change can help, another set of eyes, more patience, some seriously intense brainstorming. Keep in mind, fixing things is rarely ever easy or simple. But if you're willing to put the elbow grease in, you can mend the manuscript and the other more emotional stuff.
The key is being able to see when things aren't working. When the verb is still active. Before 'things not working' turn to 'didn't work'. When there is still the chance to fix them.
People tell us it is never too late. This is the biggest lie you will ever be told.
And I'll love you forever.
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