I don't believe in karma, but there is definitely something to be said for balance.
It seems that my life follows a trend - at least from my own very subjective view - of extremities. I find myself being treated by some people in such a way that makes you ask yourself:
"what did I do to deserve this?"
They use you, evaporate your goodwill, make you feel you can trust no one. You come out the other end a wreck, a little wiser, but also with that sick, cold feeling like you are pretty sure this will happen again because it's happened before, though maybe next time you'll be that bit less forgiving. Which is entirely unfair, and a bit sad but such is life.
For all the shitty things anybody could name about me (and there are thousands) I have good intentions, not malice. But I am not always a good friend as the traditional definition would ascribe. Being so neurotic makes you horribly self-obsessed and time-poor and I am certain I could win a "worst ever correspondent ever" award.
Put it this way, I would never expect to be able to know even one such remarkable creature as the many I am so fortunate to call my friends today.
And I find myself asking this question:
"what did I do to deserve this?"
These people, they lift me up from the darkest depths just by their mere presence, they are inspirational, kind, and patient no matter how irritating I am being. I must confess to being so entirely dwarfed by such generosity of character that I frequently feel infantile in my inadequacy.
One such example has been some dear friends of mine from back in Sydney who knew me so well that, understanding I would be missing my pet bunny Adam, had a plush version made in his image (very biblical now I think about it haha) who's now sitting on my lap, helping me write. His name is Clive in honor of his uncle's stubbornness. He has a good friend in Sanford the Sloth.
This is no ordinary toy. I think the best description comes from the one who commissioned him (link).
He arrived earlier this week in San Francisco (a little bleary-eyed from the flight) accompanied by a care package of tim tams and T2 french earl grey tea they knew I'd defile with milk. I must admit to being surprised that such vittles survived the flight - bunnies are hungry beasties!
Coming back to the point:
How do I get such friends? I just hope one day to be half as amazing as they are.
If the price for having a bunch of incredible friends is a few complete pricks along the way then it's obviously more than worth it. But I don't think that's the point, and maybe I'm doing it wrong... The balance is there, I just need to look straight ahead and stop wasting my time looking below, which will only achieve me inevitably falling on my arse.
Clive says it's getting late and it's time for bed already. He wants a cup of tea and a story. I'd better go.
Thank you to all my wonderful friends who give my life meaning, depth, and colour. I'd be lost without you. xo.
-m
PS. posts on SF coming soon, promise. Just had to get this one out.
PPS. for anybody who is curious about the model: please see my bunny flickr set
It seems that my life follows a trend - at least from my own very subjective view - of extremities. I find myself being treated by some people in such a way that makes you ask yourself:
"what did I do to deserve this?"
They use you, evaporate your goodwill, make you feel you can trust no one. You come out the other end a wreck, a little wiser, but also with that sick, cold feeling like you are pretty sure this will happen again because it's happened before, though maybe next time you'll be that bit less forgiving. Which is entirely unfair, and a bit sad but such is life.
For all the shitty things anybody could name about me (and there are thousands) I have good intentions, not malice. But I am not always a good friend as the traditional definition would ascribe. Being so neurotic makes you horribly self-obsessed and time-poor and I am certain I could win a "worst ever correspondent ever" award.
Put it this way, I would never expect to be able to know even one such remarkable creature as the many I am so fortunate to call my friends today.
And I find myself asking this question:
"what did I do to deserve this?"
These people, they lift me up from the darkest depths just by their mere presence, they are inspirational, kind, and patient no matter how irritating I am being. I must confess to being so entirely dwarfed by such generosity of character that I frequently feel infantile in my inadequacy.One such example has been some dear friends of mine from back in Sydney who knew me so well that, understanding I would be missing my pet bunny Adam, had a plush version made in his image (very biblical now I think about it haha) who's now sitting on my lap, helping me write. His name is Clive in honor of his uncle's stubbornness. He has a good friend in Sanford the Sloth.
This is no ordinary toy. I think the best description comes from the one who commissioned him (link).
He arrived earlier this week in San Francisco (a little bleary-eyed from the flight) accompanied by a care package of tim tams and T2 french earl grey tea they knew I'd defile with milk. I must admit to being surprised that such vittles survived the flight - bunnies are hungry beasties!
Coming back to the point:How do I get such friends? I just hope one day to be half as amazing as they are.
If the price for having a bunch of incredible friends is a few complete pricks along the way then it's obviously more than worth it. But I don't think that's the point, and maybe I'm doing it wrong... The balance is there, I just need to look straight ahead and stop wasting my time looking below, which will only achieve me inevitably falling on my arse.
Clive says it's getting late and it's time for bed already. He wants a cup of tea and a story. I'd better go.
Thank you to all my wonderful friends who give my life meaning, depth, and colour. I'd be lost without you. xo.
-m
PS. posts on SF coming soon, promise. Just had to get this one out.
PPS. for anybody who is curious about the model: please see my bunny flickr set
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