Untitled Snippet

She ends up somewhere between there and not quite yet. The storm calls to something primal inside; the same thing that had her dancing under lightning filled skies until she was old enough to be afraid. It’s strange, she thinks, how you get more afraid as the years go by. If anything you should be less fearful because you’ve already lived so much. The older you get the less there is to miss out on. She knows that’s just part of the story and neither here nor there, but a spot of fancy is needed right now. 

The wind has turned to whisper, low and seductive. If she goes out, she will be right in the eye of the storm. That is her stronghold, but what’s the fun in being safe? The moment passes, the eye is gone and fire crosses the sky. She smiles at the dancing flashes; they seem to her a mixture between game and a mating dance. Or perhaps they are the same. She knows the moment before she decides to move; it is marked by a heavy feeling in her head and warmth swiftly followed by cooling sweat. As the rain sets in she runs outside, raising her arms and dancing underneath the tumultuous skies. The rain kisses her lips and she kisses back. She is not safe, speaks the rumbling thunder, but at last -she feels alive.

Parting Ways -poem

Parting Ways

So we’re standing here again then,
not knowing what to say.
Has anything really changed at all?
We age a year and live a day.

Blinded by my unshed tears,
but at least this time I see.
And I guess I did wrong by you,
and I know you did wrong by me.

No longer are we star-crossed,
but still we carry on pretending;
thinking the morrow will be better,
thinking love is never-ending.

Wonder what it’s all about,
why the happiness must die?
You could never turn your back,
so I need to say Goodbye.

Guess we weren’t a fairytale after all.

Why You Should Not Try to Reason With Religious Nuts

Me: How do you know that this almighty God exists?

Other: The Holy Book tells us so.

Me: I understand that, but that was written ages ago. How do you know it's even based on fact?

Other: The Holy Book tells us so.

Me: Yes, yes, I know. But ponder for a moment the possibility of the Book just being a story, nothing more. I mean how can you base your evidence of the truth of the scriptures, on the same scriptures? Maybe they're lying, how would you know?

Other: It is the truth. The Holy Book tells us so. *starts quoting and speaking in tongues*

Me: *bangs head against wall and counts to a zillion*

The Dangers of Life Online

So I was scouring the net looking for interesting blogs. Stumbled upon HorsePigCow and read this post on Internet Safety for Women. Just read those last words I wrote. They're so typical. Internet Safety for Women, like we somehow need some kind of special security, separate from the standard.

Now don't get me wrong -I'm not saying there aren't any dangers with leading a life online. There are plenty of dangers and reasons to be cautious, but sex doesn't factor into that. Anyone can have their identity nicked online if they're not careful, anyone can have their accounts hacked into or something equally unpleasant.

The Internet is the great equalizer. The usual methods for distinguishing people from each other, like their sex, race, religion, socio-economic status etc that you have used before are pretty useless online. Obsolete if you so will. Because online we can be pretty much anyone we want to be.

So why should women be more fearful of putting themselves out there? I mean -yes giving out your real name might be risky for those with less than usual ones, but at the end of the day it's no more risky than being listed in the phone book.

I have this friend who's a semi-hacker-ish type. He warned me about how easy it was to find information about me online. He got my home phone number and address in about 30 seconds. At first that kind of freaked me out, but then I got to thinking and I came to this conclusion -so what?

So what if anyone can trace my name to my address and phone number? They can trace billions of other people in the same way. People do that all the time; the most popular methods used to be the public phone book and calling an information service. What makes me being listed online more dangerous than anything else?

It's true that more people can get a hold of you if you spend a lot of time being un-anonymous online, but at the end of the day it doesn't really matter. So you get an online stalker? You might have gotten one while being out in a club just as easily. So some creep got your phone number; creeps will always get someone's phone number and harass, it's what they do.

At the end of the day it all just comes down to common sense and taking your licks when and if they come. Though it's never advisable to simply give out your personal details to all and sundry unless you want irritating phone calls in the middle of the night and so on, that does not mean you have to be more paranoid than Machiavelli.

People who want to get a hold of you badly enough will find a way. Why live your life in dread of that moment? I mean, I'm as paranoid as the next girl, but I do have limits and going through life being scared of online predators just isn't in my repertoire of things to do. If someone actually comes haunting your homestead? Then you can start worrying.

Snippet

A/n: Just an exercise in action oriented writing. Unfinished piece, but a beginning of something, maybe.

~*~

10 am and she’s so-very-late. Coldness burns with each breath of morning air. The backpack is heavy; straps forcing her shoulders back, cutting through her too-thin-jacket. Legs cramp and her feet scream murder on the cobblestones. The cell phone in her pocket beeps. Her stress levels go up anther notch. She resists the phone, but not for long. Two more steps and it’s in her hand.

“Where are you?”

A misstep, as she tries to answer the message while running. She falls to one knee and one hand. The pain travels like lightning trough her leg. Nasty, nasty bruise tomorrow, but she just doesn’t have the time. A grimace flashes over her face. Her eyes tear, but she’s up in a flash. The first few steps are halting on her stiff leg. Determination proves the greater force and she’s off again.

The traffic on the South Boulevard is in a stand still. She zigzags between cars and motorcycles, seeing the concert hall beckoning in the distance.