Nathan Bransford, Author: How to Know You're a Writer (In GIF Form)

Nathan Bransford, Author: How to Know You're a Writer (In GIF Form): Any time you're not writing your novel you're still thinking about your novel: When people ask you for your thoughts on their...

Just Do It . . .

You can sit inside a coffee shop -- where you're going to begin to reek of coffee beans.  You can constantly make lists -- which slowly get checked off.  Or, you can just get back to work.  Now, I'm not totally speaking of procrastination.  I'm talking about that little urge one gets when they're half focused and half perturbed at not being completely there.  I'm talking about the minute when you're working on something and then you lose your work, before hitting SAVE.  I'm discussing the moment when your deadline hits and it's already the next day.  Nike has a motto for continuance.  Right?  Well, that crap doesn't always work.  "Just do it . . ."  That only works when complete concentration is there.  It only works when you want it badly.

Getting work done, means putting in the work.  It means sucking it up, and just doing it.  When your recording a song, it means -- take after take, keep going until it's where it needs to be.  If you're working on a blog post (hey there), it means to continue writing until you hit, "publish," and you're fine with the outcome.  Although for some of us writers, you're never really all that happy with the outcome -- not entirely.  And lastly, for those of us that write larger pieces -- it's about starting, no matter how early or late, and continuing until you feel that click inside -- that part that says, YOU'VE GOT IT . . . KEEP GOING.  When you make it to that moment, that's when no time frame, no smell of coffee beans, and no abundantly insane lists make you cringe.  That's when you know you can do it.  That's when Nike makes a valid point.  That's the moment in where you can't think of anything else, but to keep writing.  And you do.  You Just Do It.

This . . . this is why I LOVE Mariska!

Watch the video below, and you'll see yet another reason why I LOVE Mariska Hargitay!

Stopping to save lives?

So, what happened to me today? 

I guess there is a reason behind being in the right place at the right time.  Less than one hour ago (around 6:45pm or 7:00pm), while biking back -- taking my normal route -- I spotted something strange happening.  No, the immovable traffic was not that . . .  Well, not entirely.  No, I witnessed stopped traffic, because there was a guy behind the wheel of a KIA, trying to go onto the freeway, from the exit ramp.  Yes, bizarre, I know.  But that wasn't the weirdest part.  The most surreal part was, get this, no one wanted to help.  Instead, everyone's first reaction was to just blow their horns and proceed to scream at the unaware, elderly gentleman.

Not me, however -- I didn't know it before my bike trip, but I guess I was ready for anything.  I jumped off my bike, once I crossed the intersection -- and walked up to the mans car.  Fortunately his passenger window was slightly down, so I could get my words to him.  I stayed with him, trying to calm him down.  He didn't have to show it, but I knew he had to be terrified:  everyone staring at him, mostly because he was going onto ongoing exit ramp freeway traffic, but also because this was out of the norm.  I spoke ever so gently, trying to ease his mind.  While also keeping an eye on the cars that were unsure what was going on.  I asked questions, just as if my American Red Cross training kicked in -- just in time.  Yes, I knew how to check if someone was incoherent, and no, just because he was trying to enter an exit ramp, did not justify my assessment.  I continued to ask him question after question.  I made sure to assure the other drivers that I was doing something to hopefully prevent him from crashing into ANYONE. 

Well, lets just say the questions were answered in a round-about way, where everything was done with a "yes," and head nod.  Obviously he wasn't okay.  And neither was the situation.  Even some of the stopped traffic goers -- the non douchebag ones (who yelled at the guy, and myself) offered and did call the Police.  I called too.  Hey, the more officers, the better.  Because I had been there for such a long time, I guess people began to think I was part of the situation.  And partially that was correct.  I was trying to prevent any harmful ordeal. 

After about 10 minutes of getting the elderly gentleman to look at me, and stop his car -- leading into him putting his car back in drive and inching up ever so frighteningly, I had had enough of my own bartering.  I had to make a defensive choice.  And this was completely imposing to him -- but I had to enter his vehicle (good thing it was unlocked) without his permission.  I had asked him to either put his car in Reverse, or Park -- but with his mental state, he'd just go back into Drive every few moments.

So, I asked one more time, and then I just went in.  I opened his door, realized his car was an Automatic -- I quickly put his car in Park and took his keys out of the ignition.  After that, I knew it would be okay -- for the other cars.  But for him, I was still unsure.  Officer Baldwin of the FHPD arrived on the scene in a good amount of time, and that's when I could release my first breath of fresh air.  A trained person had shown up.  Officer Baldwin came over, and I told him what happened (what I just told you guys), and then I gave him the keys.  He told me what I wasn't even thinking at that moment:  that I might have saved someones life.  Especially since it looked as if nobody else wanted to step up and do the right thing.  That by comforting the elderly man, and quickly taking action, I made sure no damage occurred. 

I didn't leave once the officer arrived.  I made sure to stay with the gentleman until the combined Fire Rescue and Ambulance showed up.  And even after that, I waited with him, right up until they loaded him onto a stretcher and into the EMS.  If he didn't think he had anyone, he had me. 

Gawkers . . . It amazes me how many times we see gawkers and get mad that they're holding up the flow of traffic, yet we never think about why it's happening.  Or whether the people halting the traffic are trying to make a difference . . . It's just fascinating.  Don't you think? 

On the way back from biking another 12 miles . . . I was just in the right place at the right time. 

I guess that's the good thing about taking a bike, instead of a car . . .

Layered

 

This is what most people think of, when they think of children:  an open space; a jungle gym; a peaceful day.  And yet it's empty.  There are no inhabitants.  Nothing but wildlife to run a muck   The way that it was originally intended to be.  A preserve for those who were here prior to the construction of pieced land.  Animals sneaking their way into the grass, flying so low, so that they can have what humans have made theirs.  Almost as if that small patch is their journey home.  Like Dorothy, just hoping to find their way back.  Back into their reality:  nature.  Untouched by human hand or machine.  Preserved, and still reserved for their rights.  To roam, jump, fly, or climb, just like any other human (minus the flying -- unless on a swing  :-p).

Fighting To Die (an original song)

**Disclaimer:  This is just a song!  The lyrics are meaningful, but in this time period, it's just a song.**

Fighting to Die (5:02)

Written by Kyra "Kacee/Klayster" Clay

(Guitar and Vocals-Kyra)

I can't take it anymore

Tried to break it down to it's core

Living proof, death still lives

Fighting down inside, fighting down inside

Fighting down inside

So, kill me quick

Make it sick

Fill your regret with remorse

Let me quit the fight, I'm ready to die

I wanted reality

But people played with me

I wanted a way from you

You kept showing up

Little by little

My breath slipped away, from you

So kill me quick

Make it sick

Fill your regret with remorse

Let me quit the fight, I'm ready to die

Ready, ready to die

Ready, ready to

Ready, ready, ready to die

Ready to die

I'm ready, ready ready

I wanted freedom, in my religion

By the time it happened, I was gone

I wanted my life, you weren't inside

By the time you showed up, it was at my gravestone

So grab me

Shake me

Still can't wake me up

I've fallen into  the other side

It was quick

I felt sick

No regret or remorse

Quit the fight

I was ready to die

To die, die, die

To die, to die, to die

I was ready, I was ready

To die, to die, to die

I was ready to die

I was ready to die

I was ready to die

I was ready...to..die

Goodbye

**Disclaimer:  This is strictly a poem.  In this moment, it is just words that need to be said . . . **

I need to scream
I don't know my wants
Maybe I want to leave . . .
Maybe I want to suffer . . .
Whatever it is, I want to do it alone

I have to get out
Before I strangle my only positive voice into submission
Force myself to give into my own demise
Just to get away from those who try and break me

I won't let them do it --
It's my life

If I want to escape, I shall
It's only when . . . 
When my melancholy dredges up, and I have only one option . . .

GOODBYE