Just. Be. Respectful.

This post comes from a frustrated blogger at people's blind rudeness!

So, I have this best friend. A person I think so highly of, and see all of their amazing qualities. I am not the only person who sees his sincerity and loveliness. The things other people definitely see is his kindness, his generosity and his loyalty. If you're picturing this completely lovely person that I am trying to explain to you, you can understand why I am so encouraged to put this potent message across as one of his closest friends completely disrespected him: Just. Be. Respectful.

It is true that when we are so close to certain people, in a moment of stupidity, a person's worth is belittled by ourselves. (I'm talking about those times that are silly- we said something that eventually hurts us more than them.) Normally, when it is something that is so not worth horrible things happening from this moment of stupidity, we apologise. We are red faced. And we know that they know that we definitely did not mean what we said.

All the same, some people take it too far. Too far.

My lovely, sincere, sweet, kind-hearted, gentle best friend is thought of this highly by his close friend that was, well, vile to him. Let's call my best friend, just that: Best Friend. Let's call his close friend, Mildly Frustrating Person (I completely respect the guy normally, but he has been ever so slightly - actually, incredibly - rude).

So, Mildly Frustrating Person seems to be an A* student at just assuming they know best about Best Friend's life. And this is not the first time. (Side note: they predicted their predictions incorrectly.) Mildly Frustrating Person continued to be very childish by continously messaging Best Friend, thinking Best Friend was ignoring him and not replying out of rudeness, in turn Mildly Frustating Person then deciding he had a right to be angry. Meanwhile Best Friend was at work, being my lovely, lovely best friend. Best Friend had no idea how to approach the situation, feeling very uncomfortable and a bit gutted.

The text above doesn't exactly portray the situation, but I don't think it's my place to say exactly what happened- as long as my point is put across, I am happy. Basically, now, Mildly Frustrating Person is not having the decency to admitting wrong and Best Friend is upset, despite having been lovely, lovely.

We all need to start remembering everyone has other things in their life, whether that be people or work or hobbies and we are not people who deserve replies and silly things like that at the speed of light from the people who love us most.

The moral of the story is this - because at the end of the day, with things like this, we all misjudge things - we all get a bit blinded and forget how good someone is when it comes to silly things. We all have different priorities and whatnot. Assume there is a good reason for something this silly if you believe someone to be genuine and kind and good to you!

Because trust me, Best Friend treats Mildly Frustrating Peron awesomely.

A Bear & A Photo,

The Girl in the Moonlight,

Surrounding Myself with Me

A lesson from 18th June 2015

I am a strong believer in living for love and happiness (despite my pessimistic tendencies), but I have learnt a lesson about the necessity of surrounding myself with things or values simply for me. Its importance has lead to a post being written late at night, fueled with emotion.

I realised today that I need to start doing a lot more for me. I am feeling a bit gutted and frustrated and as if a lot of love I have put in has been soured with some nasty words. They do say that good things come from lessons learned. Sometimes it is hard to ignore a bit of old fashioned self pity. I think I have acknowledged a good dose of it today. Sometimes we try and try and work very hard and it can feel like it has gone unnoticed when something happens; something is said. We think, "Why do we bother with them/that at all?" Of course we should bother! We care! We love! We do! And I will continue to. But who is that other person I need to focus on? Me, me, me.

This may sound like a bitter post but I am completely refreshed from its lesson. I aim to make sure my mind is at ease when I feel particularly targeted; if I feeling like I have been done wrong, I will put my thoughts across (of course, pleasantly). I will make lots of time for my running, for me! I will bake cakes and read my book- for me! I love packing my summer with doing loads with my friends, and I will! But I am finding lots of me time, and I refuse to feel taken for granted by anyone. It is time to start saying no when my own happiness is at risk.

I am going to surround myself in stuff and people that make me happy, being here for all of the people I know appreciate my efforts.

I am going to be surrounding myself with me!

As I want this summer (and life afterwards) to be the best yet, I am happy at the conclusion that has been drawn from an emotional day.

A Few Tears & A Moving on Smile,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

The Dancer

On my way into a delicate-looking shop with fairy lights hanging from the ceiling and roses decorating the window from the inside, I briefly noticed a man with a little keyboard perched on his lap. It may be little, but as the man let his fingers glide over the tiny keys, it left me wondering whether he really was playing it. It's just, it was really something; the sound coming from it, I mean. Like a prestigious, complete with an orchestra piece. But it was coming from a tiny set of music-making keys. As I was about to step into the shop, I hear an off note and turn to see the man cringe. It was enough to convince me he’s playing, and I smiled at him. Whether he sees or not, I don’t know.

As I look idly around the shop, I find it hard to truly appreciate the little bird ornaments and pretty plaques with sweet sayings on. I can only picture the man with the green bobble hat, unshaven face, big jumper playing a little keyboard like it was the only thing that mattered. And then I can see vividly the scene outside. I imagine it hasn’t changed. People simply didn’t notice him. People carried on with their lives- maybe rightly so, but I couldn’t imagine that scenario at that point. I simply wanted to get out of the darling little shop and admire the man’s playing again.

And so, I exited the shop, and to my absolute astonishment – not that the attention was undeserved – found a crowd of roughly one hundred, maybe one hundred and twenty (I never was good at estimating) people gathered round the man with the keyboard, watching with the type of glee you see at Christmas when children buzz around the streets with little red gloves on and big warm boots as big as their big, gleeful smiles. I managed to get to the front, guiding my direction with the sound of a piano piece I had never heard of before but loved immediately nonetheless.

Now, though, he was merely background music. I didn’t like that.

But I had to watch what everyone else was watching.

I wanted to shout; I wanted to wave my hands; everyone, watch the man! With despair, I realised, my eyes were only focused on the main event I wanted with all of my heart to protest. Or did I?

There, almost blocking the man with the keyboard, was a dancer. Dressed in a red leotard and sparkly shoes, her body made shapes in the air that seemed almost impossible to me, and I couldn’t deny her of her beauty. But she was angry. For the man with the keyboard. On his behalf. She understood what I once did. What was that I understood again? Her face was beautifully carved with the most elegant rage I had ever seen.

For a moment I saw his face, and he was smiling. Almost immediately I looked straight back at the dancer. Something forced me to. Forced, maybe not. I definitely knew that I wanted to look back. 

There was a buzz going around the audience, I realised. They felt exactly the same as I did, I just knew it! Complete mesmerised and absorbed with her. But they heard the music, they did! I could tell! A little girl next to me was humming along but equally as entranced by the dancer. A man nearby was tapping his foot in time with the melody, but none of us - not one of us - understood where the music was coming from.

I didn't know where the music was coming from.

I vaguely remember a man- a man with a little keyboard, but as soon as I do, my mind becomes completely obsessed with the dancer. The dancer who dances with honesty, with reason. With anger. The dancer who promotes that beautiful music; the dancer who understands that music more than the rest of us. But, most of all, the dancer captivated our eyes. Our hearts. Our understanding. Beautiful. Delicate. 

Her dancing was inhuman, I knew it now. At first, I thought it was only me who really couldn't capture its reality. But my heart heard everyone else's hearts' awe. Her back seemed almost boneless. Flexible, yes. Bizarre, yes. Stunning, yes. Her spinning made my eyes clap. Her posture made my mouth whisper, "Wow!" Her dancing was like nothing I'd ever seen before; bizarre; incredible; strange; perfect. 

Her dancing was the only thing that mattered anymore. 

But the music was there. I didn't forget that. The beautifully delicate and sweet; angry but true song. I never didn't hear the music, even if I forget - even if I didn't care of - its origins. That music really was something.

~

Sometimes subversity is the only way to make background music shine.

Music & Dance,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

The Understudy - David Nicholls

I got very excited to see The Understudy by David Nicholls in HMV while I was shopping not too long ago, and easily picked it up to buy. So here we are.





















The Understudy follows the life of Stephen and his dream of becoming a well-known actor- although it is very clear his completely sincere dream is to be well-known for his talent, not for the want of fame. Only, his talent which as an audience, we only believe to be genuine, is not noticed enough by the world he wishes it would just be noticed by. As the understudy to Josh Harper - a well-loved actor - who is never the type of ill that could mean Stephen has his chance to shine. Stephen's character is a quite amusing, but also sad representation of "unlucky."

I don't like to place books with others; describing their characteristics with another story, however today I will, for I cannot pinpoint exactly why, if a friend enjoyed The Understudy, they would also enjoy... The Rosie Project series. I adore both books, and although the main characters, Stephen and Don (The Rosie Project) are not all that similar, I got the same happy, amused feeling reading The Understudy that I do when I think about The Rosie Project.

In the hope to one day become an actor, Stephen takes on numerous roles that aren't exactly his dream, but what he considers to be stepping stones. He has found he has a particular talent for playing, well, dead people. We ache for him to have the chance to step out of his dressing room and not have to be the understudy - just for one night! -, and we feel his frustration alongside him.

The Understudy is highly amusing with Stephen's bitter thoughts, but honest life. We adore his relationship with Nora - Josh Harper's wife - and we want for nothing but him to make his ex-wife and daughter proud. The Understudy does portray a big, lovely message about finding something we love and trying our hardest at it. I like that.

An Award & An Advert,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

A Little Slice of Un-Anonymous #4

In the hope to make my blog a little more personal, today, in my "A Little Slice of Un-Anonymous" post, I want to talk about a perception of me that a few of my close friends have, and although they treat it as a bad thing, it only ever is said because they care- I am 100% aware of that. But I want to share my side of the story.

Sometimes life throws us a curveball- some good, some bad. But those bad ones... They can leave me feeling anywhere on the scale of "oh, how bizarre" (mildly off-putting) to "this feeling is horrific" (super sucky curveball). To the world, that curveball is a teeny, tiny, little fish in a massive sea of other Curveball Fish and Average Fish. But that doesn't mean it's not a Big Horrible Curveball Fish to me. As John Green perfect sums up, "It's gonna hurt because it matters." All the same, with the curveballs that have been thrown in my life (a life that I think has been very lucky and sheltered from really awful curveballs), I have a way of coping. I can feel that "horrific" feeling, but as of yet, my strategy has been good! (I will always seek others - talking to my friends - if anything changes!)

Supposedly, I deal with sucky issues a little bizarrely. Only, it's just slightly different to how Friend A deals with it, which is also different to how Friend B would deal with it. We all react differently! (Some ways do suck, of course!)

So, I'm considering the situations that "suck really badly." And here is what I hear when they come about and a friend or a few friends will know.

"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You've got to start talking."
"Tell me everything. Cry. Just cry."

When these sucky issues come about, normally, I, personally, don't feel the need to tell anyone- although I recently - when one occurred - notified a few people because that is just how I dealt with it that specific time. It's not because I am an amazing person who suffers in silence, because I don't! The sucky issues I am thinking about are always known by my family. The issue will be spoken about openly with them and I don't feel the need to talk about it to other people. I completely agree that talking is awesome and talking should be done when dealing with something is not going well - and of course if it is going well -, but, sometimes I just want to shout, "I KNOW YOU CARE, BUT I REALLY AM FINE. I REALLY AM DEALING WITH IT. THIS SMILE IS REAL."

I completely respect and love the care of my friends. I value everything they say to me regarding the issue and I hope I am always an option as "a friend one can talk to" when my friends have sucky issues, if they so wish- I will be the first to offer! I want to be that friend that I know they already are- even if I don't speak up!

Granted, I do aim to be more open. It's a slightly different issue, but if I'm upset in general, I am unlikely to consult a friend. And I do think this is silly, and I have improved massively. I do believe talking and having feelings known is super important, but sometimes I just have it sorted. I really am dealing with it.

My friends are amazing, and although there are definitely ways that of dealing with sucky situations that also suck, there are lots of different ways of coping which vary from person to person.

All the same, I will always look out for my wonderful, caring friends like they do for me. They really are awesome.

There's a lot on this particular issue that I haven't covered; it's not a particularly rounded up post, but they are just a few thoughts that come to my mind.

So, that's me!

A Book & Some Strawberries,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

♡ #1 ♡ #2 ♡ #3

Just One More Moment

Eddie grimaced at the sunset. but his expression did not match the stars in his stomach. His heart was not good, and if he wasn't home soon, his daughter, Cassandra would worry. So he would go home soon. Just one more moment.

But how long is a moment, really?

For "just one moment" Eddie could picture his wife's smile on their wedding day, and all of a sudden, just one moment would turn into hours of Eddie in happy despair. For "just one moment" Eddie could replay the image of his wife kissing Cassandra's forehead for the first ever time over and over again, and hey, just one moment was suddenly half an hour of sobbing. For "just one moment" Eddie could absorb a night's sunset, and just like that, Eddie knew his heart would be staying there for just that bit longer.

Nature can be ugly, it's true, but Eddie wouldn't ever fault a sunset- his wife's favourite colour.

"It can be a deep orange, or a song composed of pinks and reds and greens and blues, but whatever it is, that's my favourite colour," Eddie would never forget those words. He adored them. He admired them. He felt every beautifully sincere feeling he felt for his wife in them. If a friend asked his wife's favourite colour, Eddie could say the words she would utter alongside her as she responded. But he never did. he couldn't ruin the sound of her happy, enchanted voice; it sounded as though she had memorised it every time. And although the words were always the same, he knew she hadn't. Every time he heard something new.

He heard heartbreak in his wife's words. Heartbreak caused from her father dying too young; her brother dying too young. He heard experience; success. She became the teacher he always knew she would become. He heard love. He heard the feelings she never forgot to express to him. He heard happiness. Eddie and Nora; always happy. Always in love. And it wasn't a lie.

And every time that sunset did its thing, Eddie saw his wife. His beautifully colourful, magical, glorious wife. And every time, he took a picture with his eyes to save for a rainy day.

He blew a kiss to the sky as he made his way home.

~

Pinks & Reds,

The Girl in the Moonlight.

The Bench

At the bench,
We don't like to fret,
We don't like to cry,
We don't swear,
We don't lie,
If the sun shines, it shines,
If the rain rains, it rains,
But no matter the weather,
At the bench, we are together.

~

In my life, I feel like I sometimes have certain places for certain events or people. For example, I heavily associate my bedroom with my writing; my reading. I think of the cinema as mine and my brother's place (although it isn't exclusively). I picture a certain walking route as mine and my close friend's place to wander. I see my living room as the place my family and I spend most time together. I know I associate these places with people or things so strongly because they represent values that matter to me. My creativity with writing adores my bedroom; the cinema represent mine and my brother's excitement. That walking route reminds me of all of the excited catching up a friend and I have done. My living room shows my heart all of my funny, silly, happy family memories.

But the bench? That belongs (in our hearts) to my favourite friendship.

I would say we have other places that are more "our places to go", but I just want to write about our bench because it is always a bench we go to and sit on with complete sincerity. We always sit there ready to giggle and just be us. Be our friendship. I think some friendships just have an essence about them; with this friendship, "our friendship" is smiles and memories and laughing and jokes and honesty and sweetness. Our bench has heard all of the listed attributes- plus more! I remember one time I was giggling so much I just looked silly to passerbys- but very, very happy.

The bench represents everything honest in our friendship.

This is just a little post that is insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but so very significant to me. To my life. To my favourite friendship.

A Bench & A Friendship,

The Girl in the Moonlight.