Blog Tools
Edit your Blog
Build a Blog
RSS Feed
View Profile
« December 2023 »
1 2
3 4 5 6 7 8 9
10 11 12 13 14 15 16
17 18 19 20 21 22 23
24 25 26 27 28 29 30
You are not logged in. Log in
Entries by Topic
All topics
personal essay
tribute  «
Links to great blogs and sites
Books and Authors
Free Spirit
Learn to feel pretty
Rons Ramblings
Saturday, 30 August 2008
A Rainbow Collection of Words
Mood:  happy
Topic: tribute

A Rainbow Collection of Words


A life lived, a childhood lost. The experiences, the pain, is beyond what should happen to a child. The sad fact is, it occurs more often than commonly known. There are survivors. It is a blessing to find a survivor who also has the gift of words. Her perception, the way she tells a story, puts the reader at the scene. You feel what she feels.


A depth of perception such as this is rare. Her emotions flow through her fingers. The words carry this charge directly to the heart of the reader. In each word of despair is a glow of hope. Her pain, displayed, evolves into a salvation offered. This voice, this giver of hope, must not be stilled.


Answers found, a spirit tamed. He is but one of many. This soft spoken mother with the heart of a tiger would not give up. With gentleness, the terrors eased. They are still there but more controlled. Her love and tenacity slip from her fingers. She must continue, the world needs to hear how the spirit of this stallion has grown. Let nothing quiet this powerful voice.


These books are as yet unwritten. The stories have been lived. For the sake of our children, for a safer and kinder world, this rainbow crusader must go on. 

Posted by theessaywriter at 11:36 AM CDT
Post Comment | View Comments (2) | Permalink
Friday, 11 July 2008
Best Friends
Mood:  sad
Topic: tribute

Best Friends


“You’re going to hate me, I just know it. But I respect you enough to tell you.”


What the person told their best friend doesn’t matter. Nor is it gender specific. What matters is that one friend made a mistake serious enough to derail the friendship. But the value of this friendship gave them the strength to own up to the error. Friendship is based on trust. Obviously the stronger the bonds of friendship, the deeper the trust.


That trust, once violated will not destroy the bonds of friendship. Owning up to mistakes is the first step in forgiveness, of rebuilding bridges. With trust at full strength, distance is not a factor. But the bonds between only friends is much more fragile. Something as simple as refusing to help a friend with an easy task can shatter these bonds beyond repair.


So what makes best friends so special? Is it because when you have really good news, you have someone to share it with? is it when your world is crumbling, you have someone to console you? A best friend shares, with the same degree, your happiness. But when something or someone pulls the rug out from under you, your best friend is there with the biggest and softest cushion to help catch you.


One comment that pops up every now and again and usually just from males is that best friends must be of the same gender. Males cannot have females as a best friend. That statement, in its entirety, is totally wrong! To hear someone say something similar is to have met a macho type male.


To find a best friend, you have to be one. It takes someone very special to be a best friend. Across these bonds pass the most intimate baring of souls. Best friends often know each other better than they know themselves. Then there is the ultimate category, extended family.


It is this category alone that the bonds are virtually indistinguishable from biological ties. Extended families would, in many cases, lay down their life for the other members. When speaking about an extended family member with someone else, it is done very reverently. This category of best friends is very rare. For those fortunate enough to be in this category, love, cherish and nourish each other often.

Posted by theessaywriter at 9:03 AM CDT
Post Comment | Permalink
Tuesday, 8 July 2008
Mood:  happy
Topic: tribute



“You did what?!? I hate you!”


“I’m sorry. I had to put him in his place. Nobody puts down my friends!”


True friends do watch out for each other. Does friend one really hate friend two in this opening scene? No, it was just a reactive statement. A true friend is not only there when you need them, but even when you think you don’t.


Those that only profess to be your friend do not offer support. All to often they are a friend until you do something that upsets them. These are the ones that do not understand forgiveness. This is the class of friends that are the most dangerous. They pull you in, pat you on the back and throw you away like last weeks fish.


It isn’t hard to tell the difference. A true friend is someone you can trust. It is a bond that you will feel. A true friend forgives you when you do something wrong. This is the person that will share your darkest and saddest moments. True friends cry together and laugh together. Fair weather friends walk away when you cry. They know not empathy for others. They will hurt you and will walk away. Your pain is meaningless to them. A true friend feels your pain. If they are the cause of this pain, it hurts them many times as much. Nothing short of full forgiveness eases this pain. I know, I’ve been there.


Then there is a special class of friend. These are the rare breed called extended family. It is the highest honor to accept or be accepted as a member of a family. There is nothing common about these people. it is this class and this class alone that earns the accolades of associated with sainthood. Extended family members are platinum in its purest form. By comparison, a diamond is just a lump of very old coal. Extended family members are angels on earth. They are very rare and I for one would willingly give my life in defense of my extended family.

Posted by theessaywriter at 1:18 PM CDT
Post Comment | Permalink
The Good, Bad, and Worse
Mood:  happy
Topic: tribute

The Good, Bad, and Worse



I’m bossy. I don’t ask, I give orders. I have to have my own way. I’m distant. That’s nice to know. I’m also nice and suffer from social anxiety. Yep, that’s true too only now it has a name. I’ve got other problems. I even have a good side, someplace. The point of all this is that those things are things I cannot see. I’ve been that way all my life. I’ve been married, and I still didn’t know this. So why do I suddenly have this vision of me in horns? Because a very good friend told me.


You’re right, there are a lot of fragmented sentences but it’s what works. I also need to point out that I’m not the devil in disguise. I’m a typical spoiled brat. No one took the time to point out the obvious faults. It isn’t just me.

This is typical of human relationships, marriage and friendships. We can see the faults in others but we fail to tell them. Worse, we do tell them but not directly. We give hints and more often than not, they are ignored. Why can’t we tell the other person the truth? I suspect it’s because we are afraid of hurting them, or getting them angry. That is wrong. There are some people who will tell you what you are like, from their perspective. There are even a few that will listen.


The world would be much better off if more of us would listen to others. I don’t mean hear them, I mean listen. When we ‘hear’, the words enter the ear and go nowhere beyond recognizing that words were spoken. When we listen, the words enter the ear and make the correct neural connections. The same analogy applies to look and see. It’s only taken me 60 plus years to see where I need to change. We need to pay attention to what others are telling us because they see the real us. I stated at the beginning what my faults are. I know them because someone was kind enough to point them out. Changing, however, isn’t that easy, but I’m trying.


Let’s see if we can make this a better world by learning to see and listen instead of look and hear. We need to open our minds and shut our mouth more often than we do. We all have our flaws and some are worse than others. I know my flaws and I think there may even be some parts of me that are good. I finally learned to listen. I listen with my heart and my ears. I know the source that told me my flaws and I know it was done to help me, not deflate all that I thought I was. This world needs more people like this.

Posted by theessaywriter at 1:14 PM CDT
Post Comment | Permalink
I Met Somebody
Mood:  happy
Topic: tribute

I Met Somebody


I met somebody. She lived just down the road. As we grew, we joined in together in the same house. We grew closer and we were wed. Yes, this was a wife. We now had our life to lead together. But, fate stepped in and we parted. Over time we lost touch, but when we see each other, we are still friends, although not close.


I met somebody. Behind the counter and over coffee we would talk. I liked her enough to ask her to meet my parents. With a nod of approval, we soon were wed. Over the years, we changed, but our love remained. As we kept house, I met others, and they too have enhanced my life. You’ll meet them soon. I met someone else and that one almost destroyed my life, but as it turns out, it was my destiny to do this because it influenced future events.


I met somebody. She came into this world quickly and was a bundle of joy from day one. She is our daughter and she is still moving quickly even though she has grown. She has always been my shining star. She will be always. She is soon to meet somebody herself. She deserves the best and the one she will meet will get from my daughter, the very best. It won’t be the elite in material things, but she has enough love to spoil the one she will meet.


I met somebody. This time it was a pair. Two droplets of sunshine peeking under the covers. In stature, small but in potential, unlimited. The twins are two whirlwinds that are the same, yet different. One is like dad, full of spit and fire. The other is the epitome of mom, quiet and reserved. Their lives have enriched mine beyond all limits. Their infinite wisdom and warmth is my universe.


I met somebody. She is amazing. She is a writer. As part of my extended family, I pray she is in my life forever. This young lady is a teammate. I have never known anyone like her and I do believe she is one of a kind. I am very proud to call her friend and family. She stormed into my life and I pray the clouds never part.


I met somebody. He is an artist. He is the son of a writer. Young, yet wise beyond his years. Give this man a palette and he can illuminate a room. With pencil in hand, his papers develop rainbows. This man is also one of a kind.

Posted by theessaywriter at 1:13 PM CDT
Post Comment | Permalink
Lessons Learned
Mood:  happy
Topic: tribute

Lessons learned



I’ve learned much of late

I am who I am, and that is all

My strongest strengths do not abate

From the plateaus of high, I fall

But a conversation with a friend at night

A story written, detailing one way I feel

Showed me the way which is truly right

It is with my own words, that I must deal

For surely as I exist and strive

I pen the words, of love and fun

My words keep me alive

But I live and act based on the work I’ve done

I guess when the muse takes me to worlds less fun

I have discovered that I get into what I have just put on paper

I talk to those I find most special, when at that point she should run

I say this because the muse has control and my talk is not fun

I don’t do this on purpose or because I want to

But, I am a writer, and into the words I dwell

It affects me, as it really should not do

But, I concentrate all too well

I never noticed that I live what I write

Nor that I carry it through to all that I do

I learned this the hard way, one gloomy night

So before I again should talk, I should write something less blue


Posted by theessaywriter at 1:11 PM CDT
Post Comment | Permalink
Rainbows and Rascals
Mood:  happy
Topic: tribute

Rainbows and Rascals


Surreal is the only way to describe it. I never thought of myself as a writer. No, I’m a technical person. I deal with theoretical math and computers. Oh sure, I’ve had some exposure as a writer. The ex wife liked a story I penned. Even the writer workshop at the college gave me two thumbs up. No, I’ll read but I haven’t a clue about how these authors can come up with all those words. I found it amazing how the twists and turns are woven throughout a book. I could never do that.


Then I got my own computer. I had to do a short paper for my final in one of my classes. My subject was a bit more complex than most, so my ‘short’ paper came out to thirty pages. That was three times longer than our maximum allowed length. But it was accepted and even earned a good grade. The games on the computer were a source of fun.


Not long after, I met my neighbor. To make a long story short, she started college. I was asked to help write her introductory paper for a class. I read what she wrote then I wrote one. She was not a writer! It is through this association that my words landed in the writer’s workshop. I kept playing solitaire.


Now what does a computer card game have to do with writing? Nothing and everything. A person can only play so many games I was bored. Within the same timeframe I discovered the Internet. When it first became widely available, there were things called Bulletin Board Systems or BBS. Nowadays we call it a chat room. I found a BBS with writers. I wasn’t one, but maybe I could understand the craft more by talking with some. The first thing I had to do was register.


“Pick a user name”


I’m not a writer, but this is a writing place so I wanted the word writer included in my ID. The only one that worked was unwriter. I’ve been unwriter ever since. I spent hours talking to people all over the world. I picked up a bit of culture. I noticed both creativity and the lack thereof in others user names. I didn’t learn much about the craft of writing.


Then my world exploded. I got dumped. No, it wasn’t the ex wife. She still believed in me. It was the girlfriend. This, as it turns out, was destiny at work. It’s funny because I just now realized this. I wrote a piece detailing what happened. I wasn’t a writer. I just used the pen to relieve some of the pain. It was around this same time I found instant messenger.


I don’t remember many of the details but I know I was searching for ways to make money using the Internet. All I remember is that I met some interesting people. Talking with them helped relieve the pain. Many years later a very dear friend taught me how to eradicate this bad memory. But that’s not the important issue here. This was when I made my first website. Soon I realized a few of these people I was talking to had helped me. I wrote a piece, a testimonial, about many of them. I put these on a website and even made an ebook. It didn’t sell. I picked up a spiral notebook. Two weeks later I had the text for Computers in Plain English. PublishAmerica published it. But I’m not a writer.


The Internet is a strange world. The non-writer that I am, started a website called The Surreal Writer. I started to look for writing groups. I had a website and I wanted to promote it. This opened up a whole can of worms. I met many writers. I started dialogues with many of them. I discovered a world of books I never knew existed. I met Joyce. The website? It went nowhere.


Over the course of time I composed many short stories. I also started making beaded jewelry. And I fell in love with a rainbow. I started making video book trailers. Joyce found the pictures. For the first time, somebody cared enough to actually read what I wrote. We did, and still do, make a great team. She has taught me a lot. Contrary to my belief that if writing is easy, anyone can do it, I learned from her that it is a talent. I salute you, my rainbow girl!!! You are the best. And by the way, I am a writer!



Posted by theessaywriter at 1:04 PM CDT
Post Comment | Permalink

Newer | Latest | Older