Thursday, April 26, 2012

Buy A Book; Save Lives!






 
The book is £14.99 on kindle, of which £12 is donated to Malaria No More.
 
available on amazon here in paperback, and here in ebook format!
 

 In addition to saving lives, buying this book means you can enjoy essays by 62 of American’s favorite business authors, including Tom Peters, Nicholas Carr, Pam Slim, and Sir Ken Robinson.

Organized into three main sections— 
Focus, 
Courage, 
Resilience
and eight subsections— 
Tap Your Strengths, 
Create Freedom, 
Love & Be Kind, 
Disrupt Normal, 
Take Small Steps, 
Embrace Systems, 
Get Physical, 
Collaborate
all essays in End Malaria share a desire to inspire readers to look within themselves for solutions to their everyday dilemmas and for motivation to realize their desires. 



 
It also includes this lady, and I think you should just watch this video as well, and feel inspired to be vulnerable sometimes.


 
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Wednesday, April 18, 2012

truth is no match for a loving heart by keltie colleen


this is an excerpt from the new book which keltie colleen: author of 'Rockettes, Rockstars, and Rockbottom is working on.  and if the following pulls at your heart strings  she has a blog full of similar posts.  it's a little piece of awesome. trust me!

****
 
And I saw him there, standing in the doorway like he had stood to greet me millions of times before. Still strange. Still unkempt. It’s so bizarre how someones skin can lay so close to your own skin for so long that you are basically made of the same cells, DNA and smells. Then a year or two can pass and your skin becomes like opposite ends of the magnets, and it repels. It pushes you as far away as it can. It acts as though it never was one. As if you never touched, as if you never wanted to. How you can allow someone to be everything to you, the first person you call when someone succeeds, the shoulder you cry on when someone dies. Then somehow you cut that part of your self out, and you heal yourself up with new firsts. How you can have memorized their hairline, their fingernails and their next thoughts. How their body becomes a road map to your own. They are the most familiar thing, in this world of stardust and mystery. I knew everything about him, and nothing about him at the same time. It drove me mad, and his secrets ate him alive. 

“hey” he says

“hey” I say. 

The awkward moment of me wanting to hit him, love him, protect him and expose him all at the same time collides in my brain, time stops and I am looking at the floor, into what I think might be the living room, and I can see the dust flying in the sunbeams, and I can see that he does in fact live a life, one that i am very much not a part of. He lives, and wakes and fucks, and tastes and cries all without me there. He doesn’t stand like this at the door waiting for me, like he does in my mind. He laughs and orders popcorn at the movies, and all of his life in incredibly normal and boring, and I am convinced that I am missing out on something so special that I would storm into that room and sweep the memories of wild nights off the floor if I thought I could hold onto them, even for a second. 

“how are you” he says

“I’m good, i’m feeling better.” i say back.

What I wish to say is, i’m better than I was the day you left. I’m better than I was the time I called you at 4 am begging for you to love me again. I’m better than all the times I tried to put words into your mouth so that i could hear the ones I wanted come from you. I’m better than I was a year ago. I’m better than I was when I stalked you all night on the internet and found out that you love blondes, but you never loved me. I’m better than the times I hurt myself. I’m better than the times I knew better, but I talked about you anyways. Thinking that me talking about you, would lead you to be thinking about me. 

I’m better than the way you left me, but I’m not better. 

Better would mean that at some point I was okay. I was never ok. 

I was never okay with the way you broke me. 


I was never okay with the pieces you broke that he had to put back together. 

“Congratulations on your engagement” he says

“Oh yea” I say

And he looked at my hand, and made some lame comment about the size of my diamonds, as if the size of the diamonds mattered at all. As if the biggest diamonds in the world could cure cancer and promise everyone eternal life. It isn’t about the diamonds, but it was about the fact that you looked like you were going to puke. Hurts doesn’t it? finding out that someone you pretended to love, can love something else? And in that moment I could have shoved it in your face, and simultaneously hugged you when you were upset over it. That’s the problem with love. You can love someone else, but you never stop loving them all. I couldn’t ruin you and save you at the same time. But, I wanted to. 

I looked inside the house again, couches I had never seen, pillows I didn’t pick out. I looked inside and saw mail, and shopping bags and teacups and all of the proof that you were alive and not a figment of my imaginary foolish mind. All those times I promised that if i ever saw him again, I would be strong, lust-worthy and prove him wrong.  That the problem with promising yourself that you will act like a person who you are not. The person you are trying to act in front of has already seen the real you, and will know that you are calculating the strength to act this way. He knows I am a sap. He knows I will love him forever so acting like I don’t is impossible. He will always have the upper hand. I will always look back and only remember the good stuff. I will always believe that he loved me in a special way, that I know he didn’t. Truth is no match for a loving heart. Truths never made me feel any differently. 

I looked up to see if this time, this one time, we might allow our eyes to meet, but we didn’t. we would continue to talk to each others chins. We would continue pretending that we never saw each others passive aggressive moments. That all the things we said, in books and songs and 140 character didn’t exist. We would continue pretending we were friends. But, you cant be friends with someone if you cant look them in the eye, and you cant look them in the eye if it will turn into combustible tears or punches. Its hard to love someone so much, then lose them, and then have years to fall back in love with the memory of what you thought they were, and what you thought you were to them. It's hard to have sing songs of love songs to convince you that the love that you were fooled into believing existed, that didn't actually exist, existed. Its hard to mix the fantasy of show-business with the reality of show-business. It wasn’t like the movies, but it sure sounded like it. 

“see you later” he said

“ok” I said.
 
 
 
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Friday, April 6, 2012

Holding Hands

She was terrific to hold hands with.
 Most girls if you hold hands with them, their goddamn hand dies on you, or else they think they have to keep moving their hand all the time, as if they were afraid they’d bore you or something.
Jane was different. We’d get into a goddamn movie or something, and right away we’d start holding hands, and we wouldn’t quit till the movie was over. And without changing the position or making a big deal out of it.
You never even worried, with Jane, whether your hand was sweaty or not.
All you knew was, you were happy.
You really were.

C A T C H E R  I N  T H E  R Y E  
J D  S A L I N G E R


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Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Poem.


poem by the wonderful matt allinson who can be found here.

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Sunday, April 1, 2012

Happy Hunger Games!


i'm not trying to sound cool when i say i never really get into these book crazes; i forced myself to read 'twilight' and couldn't stand the writing, and the storyline was a bit 'bleh' in my opinion. i'm also the last person to hear about the book everyone else is reading (i tend to 'hang out' in the poetry or classics section of the bookstore).
so i didn't hold out too much hope for the hunger game series. but oh-my-god. i can't stop reading them! i saw the film on wednesday, and devoured 'catching fire', and had no sooner finished that when i started 'mockingjay'.  no, they're not brilliantly written, but you read them to find out what happens next. they're packed with action, amazing imagery, and make you think. which in my opinion is rare in young-adult fiction.

i'm not entirely sure what i'm going to do with myself when i'm through with it... i have other books waiting to be read, but i haven't been this addicted to a book in a long time!

thank god i'm on holidays and don't have any deadlines!

if you have read them;
TEAM PEETA OR GALE?


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