Some Place March 10, 2011Posted by sarahsfate in My Own Personal Trials.
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It’s cold today. Colder inside the office building than it is outside, though still, for March, it is unreasonable cold. Unreasonable? Unseasonal. Maybe. I have not stopped feeling like the perfect solution to the day is to wrap myself in blankets with a hot cup of coffee in front of a roaring fire. The problem, of course, is that I have too long of a to-do list to allow myself to engage in the ‘perfect solution’. I do not sit still well anyway, feeling this perpetual need to be doing something. I do not even stand still for sixty seconds while a cup of water heats in the microwave. No. I turn to do something productive in those sixty seconds.
Which is ridiculous.
What I really want, almost desperately, is to feel warm. I want to sit pool-side with little rivulets of sweat running down my back, fanning myself with a t-shirt I had to peel off, while bitterly complaining about the damn heat. Texas gets hot. Our state is well-known for its heat. And cows. And stetsons. I don’t wear a stetson, in case you’re wondering. And I don’t own a cow.
I hate the feeling of always waiting for something. Waiting for winter. Waiting for summer. Waiting for a cool breeze. Waiting to feel warm. Winter becomes so biting it is as though the chill creeps into my bones to forever-more emanate outward so that no matter how many layers I’m wearing…I’m still cold.
I think it has something to do with things other than just the season. The winter wind can only do so much. If I’m sitting in my house, cooking in the kitchen where the heat is surmountable only to the built-in heater, and the space heater I have plugged in nearby, I should be warm. I should be sweltering, even. But it’s a cold I feel everywhere. It must come from within. It must come from the same place where the echo of silence emanates from.
Some place dark. Some place mute. Some place hollow.
People March 10, 2011Posted by sarahsfate in Thoughts on People.
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People have a way about them, after having experienced the various things that have happened in their lives and, even though we all live on this planet together, we have lived entirely different lives. People make broad-based assumptions about other people, using their own experiences as a guiding point but this is a foolish thing because we are all so very different.
Cartoon Lessons March 6, 2011Posted by sarahsfate in Thoughts on People.
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Is thinking on the lessons imbued in children’s cartoon flicks…
That sometimes the poor kid DOES snare the rich, defiant heir. And that somewhere out in the world there really is a genie ready and waiting with wishes…everything will turn out great in the end even though your parents had to die first.
Not only can dogs talk to each other, but they smoke cigars when you aren’t looking. Also, that if you stand up for what’s right, everything will turn out great in the end even though your parents had to die first.
That commitment issues are not a recent development and extend to both human development and mammals. Everything will turn out great in the end even though your family had to die first.
Bugs are okay to eat, hyenas have round rolling eyes, and sometimes family can’t be trusted. Everything will turn out great in the end even though your dad had to die first.
Being defiant will get you the prince and all his trappings, even if you have to convince him with your body (in lieu of not being able to speak) that you should have him. Everything will turn out great even though Ursula had to die first.
Standing up for yourself and doing the right thing can go terribly, terribly wrong, even when the gods are rooting for you. But everything will turn out great in the end. *pretty sure everyone lived in this movie*
Crazy jealous women will put a hex on you and try to kill you but don’t worry, a strong handsome prince will come along and kiss you **somehow making you incapable of independent thought afterwards**. Everything will turn out great but you will have to kill the crazy jealous woman first.
That if you have enough patience and kindness, you will find the inner beauty no matter how fearsome the beast. That’s right people, beneath that violent abuser is a loving heart…stick around and wait for it. Oh, also, that when you are not in the room, your dishes are playing hanky panky. Everything will turn out great in the end but first the ex-boyfriend has to die so as not to get in the beast’s way.
Step mothers are evil, forests are terrifying but if you look hard enough you’ll find seven little men highing and hoing. In order to be happy, the step mother must die, her castle and all its trappings forfeited, and the handsome prince will ride in on his steed and carry you away into the clouds. **pretty sure that way lies death** But everything will turn out great in the end.
This was a movie written about men no matter how old they are and should be used as a warning to small girls everywhere. Yeah, yeah, everything will turn out great in the end and no one had to die.
Blackened Curse March 5, 2011Posted by sarahsfate in My Own Personal Trials.
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It isn’t impossible, you say. What blackened curse rides low on the wind like a cancerous vapor you cannot catch or forestall? It breathes air, it breathes air, it breathes fire…inflaming all who stand tall against it. What think you? That you, a pitiful hapless human, just a small girl in a war meant for gods, could stand against the curse? hahahahahahahaa
No, it cannot be done. The end of this war is as inevitable as every independent war fought between the man and the curse. You think because you know love and have a passion for love, that your white light can bear against the darkness but you are wrong. So very wrong. He will come to you on the wind and take your gloved fingers between his own, luring you into a depths the like you’ve never known. And he will destroy you. You look at him as though you can see him, see into his soul as though any such soul exists. But you do not know him at all.
If it breaks you and tears you down, til you hover weepingly on frozen ground, will you stand tall then? Will you climb, ever so brokenly, back to your feet, turn your tear-stained cheeks to the curse and howl back at the wind? Will you? Or will it defeat you this time? I do not know why I even pose the question little girl because I already know how this will end. You will stand against him, with your heart held out in defense against the rage he will bring upon you, and it will wither you.
Tomorrow by noontime you will be but blackened remains of this war you fight against him, of this thing you think you can stand up against, of this thing you think you are strong enough to withstand.
But love will never be enough.
Isolation March 3, 2011Posted by sarahsfate in Thoughts on People.
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Most people do not like to be alone. If they are home alone the silence descends upon them like a tangible thing — a coarse-fibered cloak that restricts movement and breathing. They fight their way out of the silence as though doing battle with themselves in an attempt to be free from it while denying the cloak bothers them at all. They break free from the silence, leave their home and head somewhere, anywhere people can be found. Once there, they walk amongst the throng of shoppers, gawkers, theme park enthusiasts (all depending upon where the isolated person took themselves) — and they walk through the crowd silently. Listening. Feeling the comfort of others even if the ‘others’ are strangers.
Whatever it takes not to be alone.
Drivers sit in their cars with the windows rolled up tight, the air conditioner on high, and the music channel is just a softly muted murmur heard through the glass. They stare straight ahead as though there is some fascination with the skyline or the brilliant morning sun bearing down on them. They do not look to the side or smile at other drivers as they pass. In fact, the only shared communication between the people on the road is the irate bleet of a horn for some imagined infraction. The drivers…they are like a million silent bubbles traveling down the road…all together. But apart from each other. Close, but not touching.
Individuals who walk down the neighborhood side roads…intent, not intent, just walking. They wear their MP3 players with headphones snug in their ears…looking at the ground ahead to ensure they do not trip over debris, do not inadvertently walk into a sign or another pedestrian. Sometimes, when another walker crosses their path, the walker will raise their eyes from the ground to meet the gaze of the fellow traveller. Sometimes they will smile and say hello without slowing down. But mostly, they just sidestep each other, avoid eye contact, and refrain from the casual murmured greeting.
People do not like to be alone. But we isolate ourselves. Finding the inner silence even amongst a great mass of people. Finding our differences and fears and weaknesses to be too terrible a thing to offer any other human being.
So we look away, turn our gaze to the sidewalk, shove our hands in our pockets, press our lips together, and walk alone.
Value of Certainty March 2, 2011Posted by sarahsfate in Thoughts on People.
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I know a man who is the epitome of a self-made, American-made man. He began with nothing more than a father and mother in an old wheat farm down on its luck. At twelve-years old he suffered the death of his father, leaving him the ‘man of the house’ for his mom and four sisters. He dropped out of school and got a job. Over the years he ascended through the company from one position to another, moving steadily forward in salary, skillset, and respect. He married at 18, had five children, and remained her husband until the day she died some 50-some odd years later. He became a billionaire in his time. People are (and should be) wowed by him.
But what is the true value of money? I do not ask this question to ascertain the value of the US dollar versus the quid — I mean, what value does money bring? For those living in squalor, an abject poverty so demoralizing you can think of little else, money is like God. A helping hand that will turn all their straw into spun gold. For those living in relatively decent condition but still paycheck-to-paycheck, money is like winning the lottery…allowing them to resign from their 9-5 and spend all their time vacationing with their children. For those living in mansions, money is entirely different.
I contribute donations to the St. Jude Children’s Medical Research Foundation…what I donate is not much but it is what I can afford. And upon receipt of my donations, as with any charitable organization, St. Jude sends a thank you letter with an envelope for my next donation. I feel no pressure. People do not look at me as though I have a genie in my wallet enabling me to pay out any contributive sum requested. However, this is not the case for the extremely wealthy.
For the extremely wealthy, once you have contributed funds, the charitable organization will never cease requesting more help. How can you say no when you have the money available? You can of course, say no. But how will people look at you? For the extremely wealthy, friends and remote family members magically appear as your new best friend. Everyone wants a piece. So what value does money have, to the extremely wealthy?
I can only speculate on what seems to me the most brutal experience of a lifetime, which lasts only as long as the money lasts. Not knowing who your friends are. Not knowing if your grandson truly favors you or if he favors your wallet and connections. When someone laughs at your jokes or attends your holiday party — to have to persistently question why they are there.
I imagine, on a large scale, that a lifetime of this experience is the precise explanation for why he is the way he is. Bitter. Argumentative. Demeaning. Caustic. When you are born to nothing and build your life up to the level he has, there should be some pleasure in it.
As an experiment in examples, I would lay claim (now) to wish never to be extremely wealthy. For I know who my friends are and why my family loves me, and the value of that certainty rates higher than the value of money.