Tag Archives: prompt

A Jealous Thank You Letter

images

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Green-Eyed Monster.”

“Write an anonymous letter to someone you’re jealous of.”

Dear …..

First of all, its not the money. What you do comes with that,  but its not about the lifestyle. You are the best there is, potentially the best there has ever been.

Every week, sometimes twice, you step out in front of tens of thousands of people, and are showcased to tens of millions. They chant your name, wear it on their backs. They come to one of the worlds most best known venues, and create its wonderful atmosphere. They come for many reasons, the experience, your team, the opposition. But if you eliminate all of these different reasons to find one area of common ground. One thing they have all come to see with equal excitement, expecting thrills, something they will never see anywhere else. This one thing they want to say ” I have seen”  That something, is you.

They expect from you. They believe in you. What you have different from all others is that you can deliver. When everyone else turns to you, you find a way.

My respect for you is a shared respect, with my own father, and my Grandfather. We talk at lengths about the feats you have achieved, the near miracles you have performed. Watching you is one of the only things we always make time to do together.  I thank you for that. We came to see you,  live and in person and like the others I described above, we expected from you, and believed in you. You gave us everything we could have hope for.

To see what a game is like through your eyes, with the speed of your thoughts and the technique you display. You can find others from in near impossible angles, and that feeling of knowing that you, unlike most others, can do it must be something.  To be surrounded by opposition, with almost no way out, and then calmly work your way through. To score the goal that changes games, seasons, history,  when none else could find a way. To do it almost every game.

I am jealous that no matter how good my very best is, or was, I will never experience one hour with the gift that you have. I assume it cannot be easy. There must be immense pressure at times and times where you loose faith that you can do it all again. But I thank you, for giving me that feeling. That little urge of excitement I get, each and every time you receive a ball at your feet. That I get to turn to my father, my grandfather, and watch their mouths wide, in amazement at what you have just performed, and then share a moment of celebration together.

You, Lionel Messi, do so much more than just kick a ball.

Blo88er

Advertisements

Burning Down the House

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Burning Down the House.”

Housefire

You are house is burning down, but you have time to save five items, which five items do you choose ..

I think the first item I would grab would be my phone. I like the majority of people fortunate enough to live in a place where we can so easily access technology, rely very much on my phone. I have an iPhone, its with me every single moment of every single day, besides when playing sport etc. It my main method of communication with the world. It is a worrying thought how quickly I react when I feel a weightless pocket, where my phone should be, and how quickly my heart begins to beat in the worry that my phone may be lost. Its sad .. I can admit that.. its more than that.. its kind of pathetic.

Secondly, sticking to the theme of technology, I would grab my MacBook. I often refer to it as “the best thing I have ever Purchased”, which may be a bit dramatic, but its a luxury that i have come to enjoy.

I would also grab my acoustic Guitar. Again, another Luxury, but one of the things that gives me the most joy. Playing music, whether it be to myself or to friends and family, its something I love.

It is likely this next item would already be on my person but if not, I would ensure to take my favourite watch. The watch was a gift from someone very special. Not only is it a cool ass watch, but there is a lot of meaning behind it and its one of the symbols of that relationship.

Lastly I think I would grab my car keys. Mostly because it would allow me to get to my parents or a friends.

All of the things I have picked are replaceable to an extent. You can get a new phone, or Laptop. You can buy a new guitar, maybe even one with a better sound. The next watch I buy will tell the time the same way that my old one had. However, each and every item (maybe except the car keys), has a personal meaning to it.

The phone because there are so many memories stored on it. Pictures and videos from time with friends and family, pictures that may not be recoverable if not on the phone ( I’m not a frequent user of I Cloud). The laptop, because it was the first expensive purchase I made entirely on my own, without any support, and now on a full earning wage. I was something I had always wanted. The guitar because it was my first “Real Guitar”. The first guitar I really made music on, and the first guitar that my family finally believed that our family wasn’t cursed when it comes to musical instruments. The watch speaks for itself.. it has great sentimental value.

There are probably far more efficient or exciting things I could have chosen.. but these are the items that come to mind ..

What would you choose ? …

Blo88er

Mystery box

You wake up one morning to find a beautifully wrapped package next to your bed. Attached to it is a note: “Open me, if you dare.” What’s inside the mystery box? Do you open it?

largered

(Set sometime in my childhood)

Light shines in through my bedroom window, my eyes flicker open, I am surprised I had been asleep, the excitement that had built in me throughout christmas eve kept me awake thinking of all of the wonders christmas day would hold. I sit up and move my feet towards the floor, but they brush of something on the way down. I look down, there is a box sitting at the side of my bed. Its wrapped !

Santa always left gifts downstairs in our living room, and often left my stocking on the door handle of my bedroom, but a gift in my room was never something I had received before. The excitement built within me, I couldn’t wait to go and get my parents before I opened it. I lifted it onto my bed, analysing the size and shape, what could it be. It felt light, limiting the possibilities.

I ripped the wrapping paper, without any care, the box was red. I couldn’t think what the contents could be, the box was so light. I lifted the lid and looked inside…

I was disappointed, I felt someone had tricked me. The box was empty. Perhaps my sister had been playing a prank, and it had worked. My disappointment was soon forgotten, as we went downstairs to find wonderful gifts left by the tree.

After I had opened everything, I felt truly blessed, I had everything I could have possibly have wanted. Following tradition it was time to give my own gifts to my parents and sister. Being so young, my mum always picked something up for my dad and sister, I just handed it over. My gran would usually help pick something for my mum. This year I had saved some pocket money, and with some help from my gran I had managed to save up enough to get my mum the purse that she had desperately wanted. It was going to be perfect. I went upstairs to get it, from its hiding place in my cupboard, with a fresh burst of excitement. I couldn’t wait to see her face as she unwrapped it. I pulled it from inside the cupboard and disaster struck.. the paper ripped, and the purse fell out.

I was devastated, there would be no surprise, it looked as if I hadn’t went to the efforts that I had. She would love it still I’m sure, but it wouldn’t be as perfect as I imagined. I sat on my bed with the red purse in hand, my head fell slightly… and there it was. It was perfect.

I handed over the red box, my mum looked excited. As she opened it her eyes lit up, her face spoke a thousand words. She hugged me and thanked me, and in that moment not only had I forgotten about all the wonderful gifts I had received, but I realised that the suspicious little box at the side of my bed hadn’t been empty at all. It contained a lesson.. a reminder.

Christmas is not about receiving all these wonderful presents. The true wonder of christmas is about giving. No matter what you spend, no matter how rare the gift, the act of giving and the effort it takes, mixed with genuinely making someone so very happy.. that is christmas, and I could see it in my mums eyes.

I turned to my sister, she looked on in disbelief, and I could tell… she had seen that box before.

A very late merry christmas, and a happy new year.

Blo88er

Mystery Box

You wake up one morning to find a beautifully wrapped package next to your bed. Attached to it is a note: “Open me, if you dare.” What’s inside the mystery box? Do you open it?

largered

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Mystery Box.”

(Set sometime in my childhood)

Light shines in through my bedroom window, my eyes flicker open, I am surprised I had been asleep, the excitement that had built in me throughout christmas eve kept me awake thinking of all of the wonders christmas day would hold. I sit up and move my feet towards the floor, but they brush of something on the way down. I look down, there is a box sitting at the side of my bed. Its wrapped !

Santa always left gifts downstairs in our living room, and often left my stocking on the door handle of my bedroom, but a gift in my room was never something I had received before. The excitement built within me, I couldn’t wait to go and get my parents before I opened it. I lifted it onto my bed, analysing the size and shape, what could it be. It felt light, limiting the possibilities.

I ripped the wrapping paper, without any care, the box was red. I couldn’t think what the contents could be, the box was so light. I lifted the lid and looked inside…

I was disappointed, I felt someone had tricked me. The box was empty. Perhaps my sister had been playing a prank, and it had worked. My disappointment was soon forgotten, as we went downstairs to find wonderful gifts left by the tree.

After I had opened everything, I felt truly blessed, I had everything I could have possibly have wanted. Following tradition it was time to give my own gifts to my parents and sister. Being so young, my mum always picked something up for my dad and sister, I just handed it over. My gran would usually help pick something for my mum. This year I had saved some pocket money, and with some help from my gran I had managed to save up enough to get my mum the purse that she had desperately wanted. It was going to be perfect. I went upstairs to get it, from its hiding place in my cupboard, with a fresh burst of excitement. I couldn’t wait to see her face as she unwrapped it. I pulled it from inside the cupboard and disaster struck.. the paper ripped, and the purse fell out.

I was devastated, there would be no surprise, it looked as if I hadn’t went to the efforts that I had. She would love it still I’m sure, but it wouldn’t be as perfect as I imagined. I sat on my bed with the red purse in hand, my head fell slightly… and there it was. It was perfect.

I handed over the red box, my mum looked excited. As she opened it her eyes lit up, her face spoke a thousand words. She hugged me and thanked me, and in that moment not only had I forgotten about all the wonderful gifts I had received, but I realised that the suspicious little box at the side of my bed hadn’t been empty at all. It contained a lesson.. a reminder.

Christmas is not about receiving all these wonderful presents. The true wonder of christmas is about giving. No matter what you spend, no matter how rare the gift, the act of giving and the effort it takes, mixed with genuinely making someone so very happy.. that is christmas, and I could see it in my mums eyes.

I turned to my sister, she looked on in disbelief, and I could tell… she had seen that box before.

A very late merry christmas, and a happy new year.

Blo88er

The Elevator

auto-door-elevators-500x500-2

“If you had to be trapped in an elevator with anyone of your choice, who would it be?”

I think many people would answer this question in a similar way. Who have I always wanted to meet? Who would I love to strike up a conversation with that I otherwise would never meet. I think some would say the president, because he knows so much that we do not, in hope that he would share the secrets of the white house with us. Other would choose that super celebrity that they always had a thing for, in the hope that given the opportunity they could make them fall in love with them. Other would just pick the most famous person they can think of and have little reason as to why they think that this one person, is the person they would choose to spend this time with.

Me… I don’t need to spend a few hours with Scarlett Johansson or Beyonce. I don’t need to try and debunk all of worlds conspiracies with the president of the United States. For me, the most entertaining and interesting person of all, that I would hands down choose in this scenario. That person would be my Papa. My dads, dad.

Like many of his generation, he grew up through school, went off to the RAF for a few years, returned in the old romantic era, fell in love, played in a band, had kids, and retired with his loving wife, surrounded with grandchildren, who in turn are now at the beginning of their long and every changing journey through life.

His journey, may seem similar to millions of others, insignificant in a way. He wasn’t a Forrest Gump typed character, that has had more life experience than the worlds oldest man could even claim. But he does have one quality that makes his journey through life unique. One quality, that actually does make him rise above even Forrest Gump and his story.

My papa could tell a story…

Ive heard him tell so many, yet I look forward to hearing them again. Stories of when he was in the desert in the RAF, and was on watch duty. About the time he rang the bell as there were headlights in the distance, that turned out only to be the sun rising over the sandy dunes. Of when he played the accordion in a ceilidh band, in the middle of the era of romance, when the old romantics waltzed every weekend and lived life how it should be lived.

But the best thing about him is that, given his old age, he has lived so many days, that it isn’t possible to have heard every story he has to tell. Which means that every time I get to see him, new unheard stories ( even to my Gran), surface. The family sits round him and listens to him.

I, like my papa, already have stories of my own, and I tell them as often as I can. He could make any story worth listening to, which in turn, makes him so very worth listening to.

That is why I don’t need to share that elevator with a celebrity, or someone that I might never otherwise get the chance to meet. Because no-one that I could choose, would be more worthy or worth it , than spending time with him.

Maybe the reason I like to hear his stories so many times over and over again, is because I know that he won’t always be around to tell them. Therefore, I will be responsible for passing on these memories, which are, put simply –  his legacy. I only hope I can do his tales the justice that they deserve, and tell them half as good as he does.

Because.. honestly … in my opinion, they are so worth sharing.

Thanks for reading and I ask.. this christmas, take a little extra time to remember those gran parents who are no longer with you, and if you are fortunate enough to have them with you, listen to their stories, however many times you have heard, however much you really don’t want to wait to reach the ending you all know is coming. Please, just smile and wish them a heartfelt merry christmas, because in years to come, you might be sitting with your own grandchildren telling them about a year you sat their, with your grandfather or grandma, and tell them the story and it will mean the everything in the whole world to you that they listened and laughed with you for just those few quick minutes.

Blo88er

One Question

“If you had to come up with one question, the answer to which would determine whether or not you could be friends with a person you’ve just met, what would it be? What would the right answer be?”

p25-friends-618x413

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Litmus, Litmus on the Wall.”

If I had one question, which would determine whether or not you could be friends with a person I had just met, I know what it would be…

The question would be ..

“If you had to come up with one question, the answer to which would determine whether or not you could be friends with a person you’ve just met, what would it be? What would the right answer be?”

I think the answer to this question, might tell you far more than most others. Can someone really know everything they need to know about someone based on one question? . Should a potential friendship rely on someone getting one single answer correct ?.

I think if I asked someone this question, I would look for them to decline. I think i would look for some acknowledgment that this is a difficult question to answer, as a friendship is far more complex than sharing one particular view.

Answer the question as I just have or respond that you couldn’t judge something so special on the basis of one question, then that .. that ..would be the right answer to my question..

Maybe I have cheated, but thats my answer.

Blo88er

Recently acquired

“What’s the most important (or interesting, or unexpected) thing about blogging you know today that you didn’t know a month ago?”

blog

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Recently Acquired.”

I am still new to the blogging game, and before beginning I new very little about it. I didn’t know what sites were the ones to visit, what content I should be writing about, or how to get people to read what I write. But in the short few months that I have been blogging, I would say I have learned a few little things about the blogging world.

I like many others who blog, do so to get ideas out of my head, I enjoy thought, I enjoy asking questions about everything. But once I have had  thought, or my run of thought runs out, everything is forgotten. I want to share my thoughts, share my ideas and hopefully others will be interested in a post or two. As much is it has become a beneficial hobbies, I do like many other still want that one things, that can be very hard to get…. readers.

In my initial pursuit for people who may be interested in my blogs I discovered that there is more to blogging than that. It not all about me !. There are many incredible blogger out there, who write such interesting, humorous and compelling posts. In reading and gaining an interest in other peoples blogs, I have automatically gained more views and visits than ever before, but not through trying to attract them, but for having a genuine interest in their work.

If you truly want to enjoy blogging I believe the trick is to interact with other bloggers, get interested and appreciate their posts.

When I started getting the desire to post, I had little motivation, nothing to write about and could not work out how to get started. I have learned that one, the use of writing prompts such as in this post and two, simply posting more and more will help inspire new posts and uncover new thoughts and ideas.

I hope to continue to develop my blog and hopefully interest others as much as possible in the process. Ultimately I look forward to reading other peoples posts and unravelling new ideas and thoughts to contribute to my writing.

Blo88er