The Internet Ain't All Bad

A while back, I wrote an article about retiring a pair of my favourite underpants, to which somebody commented with the words, 'the world is dying'.  Science indicates that this statement is true, but humanity is married to its ways.  Petty attempts to reduce carbon footprints and to recycle one or two yoghurt pots is a little trivial when we drive to the supermarket to buy the yoghurt in the first place.  Every little doesn't really help...it just slows the process.  There is little point in me chirping on about Global affairs as I am not attuned to the politics involved in them in any way shape or form.

Today, I was sat in front of my laptop in my favourite cafe when John Mayer's 'Slow Dancing in a Burning Room' comes on the sound system. It reminds of a friend - of a better time.  It brought a bit of happiness to my sour morning gurn.  It is more than welcomed.  Sifting through Facebook, my 'catch-up' routine before starting my writing, I come across something posted by a ridiculous facebook page I subscribed to for some reason or another. The majority of things that pop up on my newsfeed are about people's new cars, haircuts, boyfriends, ex-boyfriends, the female equivalent, holiday snaps etc... Generally people living their lives, showcasing joys and sharing woes.

However, today I found something truly enriching. An example of social networking being used to bring something good about.  Of course, under the gleam of beauty in this story these is a cash cow business looking to gain from the publicity, but aside from this and on a personal scale, it is great to see something like this happen to make an individual happy.  It just my morning a little more happy.  With all the crap that saturates the Internet; all of the hideous personalities it spawns and the fakeness...at least someone benefited from it in this case.

So here it is:

http://onestophumour.com/picture-9434-i-read-something-beautiful-today-story-written-by-karrie-s-mom-.html


ALSO, here is an amazing rendition of a great song. I hope you enjoy hearing it as much as I do every time I listen to it.

Real Talk: To Put it in Words

If there is one thing I will never do, it is be someone I am not.  My friends tell me that they can read me like a book because I wear my emotions.  Everybody has a mask; mine is just skin-tight.

I am gregarious when it comes to my writing, which can be annoying.  There is always something kicking around inside my mind - some sort of idea taking form - and it can leave me pre-occupied, at times. 

Dignity does not have a place with me.  To my friends' bemusement, my addictive nature has latched itself onto Christopher Walken.  His unique voice and register intrigues me as I find the way in which he fleshes his characters to be awe-inspiring.  So, I mimic him a lot: watching the game, walking down the street, drinking coffee - my Walken impression gets legs. 

Daftness aside, when it comes to writing I never really stop.  I can often be found on my daily travels, singing to myself, trying to find that next line or vocal melody to a song.  Today, without realising it, I developing one of my characters in more depth by having a conversation with him...aloud.  This entailed me having a conversation with myself using two slightly on a topical issue.  I learnt a lot about him in those five minutes.  Unfortunately, this told a lot about me, too.  I guess it makes long walks home slightly more enjoyable.

Stay tuned for my inevitable acclivity into insanity.

Flights of Icarus: Draft Sample #1

The light that passed through the window showed just how much dust was in the atmosphere, which pirouetted with grace upon the dear air.  I used my hand to control the dance.  To keep it alive.  Each loose strand that fell was a life lost.  I gave a story to each strand. I gave them life, meaning. A purpose to stay afloat.  A reason to remain in the block of light that fell from the window.  It all became remarkably important to me. I was completely engrossed when, in reality, I was merely juggling dust.  To Cort, I can’t imagine what this looked like.