Sunday, 15 February 2015

The Mentor I Never Had: David Carr

new york times image, david carr
"Keep typing until it turns into writing."

In 2012, I stood outside The New York Times Building twice. I was wandering through silver streets and my hands were rigid from the bleakest chill of January, but I found it. Both days were bone achingly bitter, and both days I walked away, marching further into the cold.

The New York Times represented the win to me, it embodied the endgame. It was credibility, and it was the castle of the masters. To me, The New York Times was the dream. To me, It was David Carr stood outside it's front doors, fingers clamped around a white cigarette. Twice I stood there, wondering if he had done so too that day. Twice I was too afraid to walk inside. I hoped that ambition would be my anchor, and that it would bring me back. I believed I'd follow my love of a story back to the city one day, and that day would be when I would make it. Then I would finally get the chance to hear his words firsthand. It wasn't my time.

The truth is that I didn't have the hustle, or the guts. And now I'll never get the chance to hear him tell me so.

Thursday, 12 February 2015

The Man I Take For Granted

I don't tell you enough.
I don't call you enough either, I know that.
I could text you, but I'm not sure you would read it.

I'm your daughter, and I don't tell you that I appreciate you.

I like to think that you know that I do, because you too are silent in your own appreciation for others. I don't want you to think that I've forgotten about you.

Tuesday, 10 February 2015

You Can't Save Someone Who Doesn't Want Saving

In this world, there are innocents. There are beautiful things, and there are useless, broken things.

I take in these broken things, and strays.

My parents will tell you that I bring in stray cats, and my partner will tell you that I foster stray people. I let them in, feed them and then they don't really leave. I guess they're kind of like cats, too.

I'm always invested in their story.

Monday, 9 February 2015

The Internet Bullies We All Know

"She's such a slut."
"He's so disguting."
"That skinny bitch needs to eat a sandwich."
"They're just angry because they're ugly and jealous."

This is not what the Internet is for.

The internet should be this: It should be a playground of ideas and digital extensions of the human experience.

It should be where we can educate ourselves, and heal our hearts.

It should be about discovery.

It should be a world separate to the one we live in, a world where we can control the rules. 
Except, that's just wishful thinking.

Because everyone is a keyboard warrior, and we are not friends.