Tuesday Questions: What does love mean to you?

When I went to church I believed God was love -but now my ideas have changed drastcily. Now, I see that God in the religion I was in, was supposed to be some kind of symbol of love. I spent countless years praying to this God, looking for this God -now I think its better that I just search for love and not a distorted version of it.

Love -to me- means that you don’t scapegoat people. That you try your best not to separate yourself from people even through in our limited bodies its so hard to see the world outside of our own perspective. Love to me means finding a way for everyone to live happy more fulfilling lives. After watching the things my friends have gone through, I would never want to stand and watch while a God damned them to hell. I don’t think even we ourselves truly understand just what kind of experiences everyone goes through. So why do we think we already know who has the right to judge us?

Convincing people to dwell on their mistakes will only get them to look backward instead of forward. There is no going back in this world that I know of and the only way for us to be better is to acknowledge our mistakes -but keep moving forward.

 

What does love mean to you?

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Fake

Some of us never want to admit,

That we’ve struggled.

Even after children that have tugged us on our sleeves and asked,

‘Is it really that easy?’

And we say, ‘yes,’ so we don’t crush them,

And we let them live a fake life -a dream.

Where they can do whatever they want ,

And there’s isn’t work to get there.

We don’t save them the time,

So later reality finds them,

And reminds them that the dream was fake.

What Makes a Good Book?

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As I’ve been reading, I’ve been trying to analyze what I’ve been reading as well. What about this book keeps me wanting to read more? What helps books continue on into a series that people will want to finish? After thinking about some of the books I’ve read so far, I’ve come with a list of things that I believe, helps to make a book good. Please feel free to tell me your thoughts in the comments below. 🙂

 

1) Character

I think that the character is what’s most important than anything else to me. What are they like at first and how do they change over time? What quirks do they have? How do they overcome their struggles? Without a good character, then the setting becomes a painting that just can’t move me. Sure, it might be beaiftul and well detailed, but if there’s nothing the character experiences then I don’t see much point in reading it. I’d rather just look at a painting.

One of my favorite types of characters right now, are strong independent female characters. Especially strong females characters in historical time periods that have more struggles than most female characters do today. I love the suspense it brings to the story. However, I’ve found that I like strong female characters with morals better than ones that don’t really have a whole lot. For example, in Sex Education, I don’t like that Maeve doesn’t try to work out her feelings first before decided to date someone. It’s just like watching Shameless all over again where I liked Fiona for being a strong older sibling and taking care her younger siblings. However, she kind of slowly became pretty fucked up too and I slowly became less emotionally invested.

A good character needs to be well rounded -at least to me. If nothing about them changes then I find for the most part that they story will be boring. It just not realistic to me, if everyone on earth was a flat character I’d still be a conservative Christian that looked down on my peers and would find veganism to be weird.

2) Story

The story, I believe is what helps show well, character in someone’s character. If nothing in the story is causing the character to react then in my opinion either the story doesn’t fit or the character doesn’t fit. And I’m not saying that stories shouldn’t ever have those quiet moments either -but if your story is just your characters walking a lot, like Lord of the Rings, then marketing your story to me probably isn’t a good idea.

I find that I’ve enjoyed stories where there is struggle, but not an overbearing amount of struggle. For example, in one of the books I read, I liked that the main character was able to push through a lot of the pain she had to endure in her childhood. However, I didn’t like that it seemed like almost every creature was out to get her and did so until she eventually died. Now this is just my opinion, but I like to feel safsifed after reading a book rather than sad, lonely and depressed.

3) Setting

I think the setting is what really pulls me into the story. Personally, one of my favorite settings is science fiction mixed in with some kind of historical time period. Like Treasure Planet or The Lunar Chronicles. I think setting is one of the most important things to me because it allows us to choose what we want to experience. For example, if we had androids, what kind of life can we predict that we would live? What might it have been like to be a person thousands of years ago?

Please always take what I say with a grain of salt -because honestly that’s the beauty of writing.

What do you think makes a good book? Please feel free to share your ideas in the comments below!

Writing Wednesday: Prompt 21

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I hid my disgust as the riders talked about their show jumping competitions. Cindy, one of the riders, believed she was one of the best. She had three pure bred dutch warmbloods imported from Europe. The past week she never stopped talking about how one of horses had arthritis at fifteen years olds -but that came as no surprise to me since she made the horse do jumps almost daily since he was six.

I was mucking out one of the horses stalls when she and her friend walked past me with a smug grin on her face. “Groom him for me,” she said.

I continued cleaning out the dirty pelts, “my job is to do maintenance on the barn,” I said.

She gave me a glare and whispered something to her friend. Then they walked to the cross ties. A let out a sigh of relief, I already didn’t like riders who made horses do stuff they normally wouldn’t do. I wasn’t appalled by jumping either -just disgusted by riders that made them do it too often and disposed of their horses afterwards.

Blaze was one of those horses, now my horse that I bordered at this place for an absurd amount of money. I had hired some guys to start doing fencing at my house so hopefully he wouldn’t have to stay here long. I tried to let him inn the arena whenever I could. I hated seeing him in a stall, swaying, biting the stall, having nothing to do, but stare at the four walls around him. My blood boiled every time I thought about what they did to him. The destroyed his vocal cords to try and expand his windpipe. He used to be a race horse, but as long as he was with me, he was never setting foot on a track again.

Then there was a knock on the stall door, “excuse me,” it was Nancy, the owner of the barn -one of the only few people I could stand here. “I know its not what we agreed upon, but Cindy has a big competition coming up and wants you to groom her horse.”

“Why? Wouldn’t grooming him herself help her establish a better bond with him,” I said.

Nancy sighed, “you’re right.” She leaned against the stall and rubbed her temples, “but this horse is actually one she just bought and she’s been struggling with him.”

“All the more reason for her to do it herself,” I said, picking up another pile of dirt and putting it in the wheelbarrow.

Nancy gave me an exhausted glance, “I know, but her parents pay a lot of money for her to be here, if she complains about the slightest thing here, I get to hear about it from her parents.” It wasn’t fair, she was lucky her family could afford all of this for her. Meanwhile, I took barn work part time so I wouldn’t have to pay as much on board.

“Fine,” I said. I let the pitchfork rest of the side of the stall door and walked to the cross ties. I grabbed a curry comb out of a small grooming box kit that sat on top of a dirty white stool. When I approached him the horses ears when straight down, and when I starting grooming his shoulder he kicked out at me with his hind leg and I hit him hard on the rump – he stopped shortly after. Nancy was watching me, but I knew it was an act to win Cindy’s approval. I knew if she had a few more consist riders, she’d give Cindy and her family a piece of her mind -but I knew she couldn’t afford to.

Cindy came out of the tack room with a english saddle that looked almost brand new. I lost track of how much tack she had in there. I ended up just keeping mine at home and bringing it when I had time to ride. “It’s about time,” she said. “I hope you realize that my family is paying your salary, so when I tell you to do something you do it.”

I noticed Nancy raise a brow at her, and I almost laughed at what she said. No one here would ever get paid a salary working here and I didn’t get any money, it just got taken off my board. I walked out of the way as she put the tack on and the horse tried several times to bit her and she muttered something under her breathe. I was about to head back to the stall I was working on, then Cindy said, “wait, I’m going to ride him in the outdoor arena and there’s horse poop in there that needs to be cleaned up.”

“Alright I bring the wheel barrel over,” I said with my back turned to her so she didn’t see the glare on my face. I had cleaned the outdoor arena first thing in the morning, there couldn’t have been that much.

And when I brought the barrel and the pitch fork up there, I knew I was right. Only one pile in the corner of the arena. “I can get it,” Nancy said, but I told I’d do it. I thought she had to put up with her too much that day and I didn’t want her to be put through more trouble than she had been already.

Before I even got up to the arena, I heard a loud scream. Cindy had tried to make her horse jump a five foot jump and the horse reared instead, sending her into the ground, then the horse galloped to the fence and jumped. He then grazed on the lush green grass right outside of the arena.

I smiled, at least not all of the horses put up with her.

 

Prompt: write about an animal setting itself free.

 

 

What was your favorite book that you had to read for school?

I’ve finished High School in 2017, so my memory of reading my favorite book I had to read at school might be a little faded. I liked Farheninet 451 quite a bit, I remember reading it in my first year of High School. I was livid when I found out the book itself had be banned due to the bible being banned in the book. Why would you ban a book that speaks out against it? I’m not really a fan of the bible to be honest, but I wouldn’t ban it because it a part of history that needs to be understood. However, I hate when people use the bible to force us into conformity. There’s is a lot that we can learn from other books as well.

So, what’s your favorite book that you had to read for school? What did you like about it?  Is there anything you disliked? Given that when reading books for school we don’t always have our pick.

Sometimes life’s hard

Sometimes I compare myself to others and wishing I already had what they had. Its hard to watch my dad work 80 hours a week while other people have way better jobs -and some don’t need jobs at all. It’s hard to see rich people express just how big they finances are while their utilizing products that were made overseas by people who’s pay is only enough to keep them alive(and I’m not just talking about the 1% here). Its hard to not wish America could set an example again of what good products and quality work places mean.

Sometimes I stay up at night just thinking about all the pain and suffering that all different aspects of life have caused people. But I then remind myself to sit down and just breathe.

Looking through the internet at just how much horrific things people have been through can leave my mind going all over the place. Because even though I’m just one person, I wish the answers were laid out in front of me.

I look at the internet and see how many horrible things people, animals and the earth have been put through, that sometimes I just find it overwhelming. And I wonder why we’ve let things go this far. But I have to remember that everyone is on a different journey and we may never be on the same page.

When I think about how hard life can be for myself as well as other people, the only thing that gets me to sleep at night is to remember that ideas that will benefit us all come with time and incubation. And its best for me to question the new ideas I’ve come up with before passing them onto other people.

I am uncomfortable believing I know the answers without question. However, I am comfortable questioning something and saying I don’t know and hoping we can work together to find a genuine one.