Monday, August 29, 2005

Forces of Nature

I've got my television tuned to one of my favorite stations, the Weather Channel. As of right now, the meteorologists are giving live reports of the fury of Hurricane Katrina.

It's something that I'm all too familiar with.

For 24 years of my life, I lived in a coastal city in North Carolina. It was a beautiful place, although very hot during spring and summer, with lovely beaches only a few minutes out of town. It was also a major target for hurricane activity.

When I was a child, we didn't have to deal with too many hurricanes; the 1980s were relatively quiet when it came to tropical activity. The only major exceptions were Hurricanes Diana and Gloria, but the former fizzled out before hitting land and the other merely brushed the North Carolina coast. The sea change was ushered in during September 1989, when Hurricane Hugo slammed into Charleston, South Carolina. Our period of calm was over.

During the 1990s, the Cape Fear area was hit with many storms: Bertha, Fran, Bonnie, Charles, Floyd. Each time we suffered through downed power lines and wind damaged roofs. Each time we picked ourselves up and cleaned up the mess. I left North Carolina in 1999 and moved here in Wisconsin to be with my dear one, so I've not dealt with a tropical storm in five and a half years.

But that doesn't mean I've forgotten. I will never forget. The fear, the terror; it is still etched into my soul.

I watch the news coverage of Hurricane Katrina and remember. I remember the sound of tree branches snapping, of the roaring of the wind and the explosions of transformers. I remember loading my knapsack with canned food and batteries in preparation for the next major tropical storm. I remember biking down rows upon rows of houses, their windows boarded and taped.

I remember. I remember and I pray for those who live through the hurricane's fury.

Friday, August 26, 2005

Poem: "Storm"

It's raining right now, which is much needed here in Wisconsin. This is my small way of saying thanks to the elements. Copyright Silverwynde, 2005.

thou thunder.
Tear asunder
the sky.
Bring forth
thy fury,
O mighty storm.
Bless our land
with thy rain.


Sunday, August 21, 2005

Uninvited Guests

We seem to have a few guests in the apartment as of late; small, eight-legged guests who don't pay any rent and love to scurry across the walls at inopportune moments. It appears we have a few spiders crashing with us, so to speak.

To me, it's no big deal. I come from North Carolina, so having a spider sharing your domicile is nothing new. To my sweetie, it is a big deal. A very big deal.

He simply cannot stand spiders. If it were up to him, he'd send every last one of them packing and bill them for back-rent as they scuttled out of our home. As for me, I honestly don't care: as long as said spider behaves and doesn't try to bite me or anyone else, the arachnid is more than welcome to stay. If it does misbehave, I relocate it to a bush outside. It's a system that has worked for me for well over a decade and a half. My significant other thinks I am quite insane. I can't help but wonder, why are most people so afraid of spiders?

As a general rule, most spiders are not particularly vicious, are not deadly and will usually leave you alone. There are exceptions to this of course: Australia is known for its highly aggressive and very dangerous arachnids. Black widows can be very vicious and bite unprovoked. If you happen to be allergic, then a bite can be fatal. But most spiders here in Wisconsin are your garden variety, plane Jane arachnids; they are fairly harmless. Why be so frightened of something so small? Is it an instinct, passed down from many generations? Or is it because some people find them "creepy"? I may never really understand.

It seems I'm needed right now; I have to evict another house guest before it faces the Grim Reaper. Or the bottom my better half's shoe.


Poem: "Why"

Author's note: I had an argument with my significant other today, which happened to be my inspiration for this short verse. I often wonder why a simple disagreement brings out the worst in people. Copyright Silverwynde, 2005.

do you say
the things that hurt me
the most?
Does it make you
laugh inside
to see me cry?
Do you feel
when you see
my tears?
Is it sheer spite?
Or something more?
do you celebrate
every time
I die a little


Tuesday, August 16, 2005

Faded Photographs, Faded Memories

It's a little past Lammas now, which means summer will be ending soon. The closer autumn creeps, the more reflective I become. And with all that reflection comes nostalgia. I start thinking back on my past friendships, my old hometown, and other ghosts that haunt my personal history. For the last few says, I've been mulling over an old, and possibly gone, friendship. One that dates back from my teenage years while I muddled my way through the quagmire that is called high school. I was extremely close to this young woman, but due to the ravages of time and bruised feelings, I cannot help but wonder if this friendship is over and done.

My high school friend, I'll call her "H", I met in my freshman year. We were both outcasts, neither one of us fitting in with the pre-described social structure of academics. We both took the same drama class and both worked on the same warm-up drill together. She was from Georgia, I had lived my entire life in North Carolina. We were different, yet the same. We hit it off almost immediately and began to hang out together, doing the usual teenage things like wandering the mall and passing notes to each other between classes. H and I were close, like sisters, for nearly the entire length of our high school years together. At one point, she spent nearly the whole of her sophomore year summer living with me and my family!

Then came our junior year, where I met my ex-boyfriend. Soon after, graduation, which helped to split our paths. A few years after that, other troubles began.

H elected to stay and continue living with my family for a number of years after high school. Her sister, who was her guardian, had moved to the Appalachian mountains with her second husband. H didn't want to live there (she wasn't terribly fond of her sister's new husband or his friends) and decided to stay in Coastal NC with me and mine. Things were great, for a while. Until my parents put the pressure on her to continue her schooling. She went to a community college to make them happy. Then, they wanted her and I both to get jobs. We did: I worked at a sub shop, she worked at a pizza place. Then my parents decided to breed our show-dog. She had three puppies, which turned into a major headache for the both of us.

H began making noises that she wanted to move elsewhere; the din from four extremely loud, barking dogs made life difficult, if not impossible. I agreed with her; I could barely carry on a decent conversation with H, much less talk on the phone with my high school sweetheart. Then, she bounced between two different boyfriends, found a third and moved out of my family's home shortly after meeting him. They lived together for a while before breaking up a couple of years later.

I had different troubles brewing. I, too, had begun looking for apartments and houses to rent, but my then boyfriend had no interest in moving in with anyone, much less me. When one of H's former boyfriends, with whom we were friends, mentioned that we could all rent a house together in the neighborhood where he lived, I was very excited. My boyfriend was not. He swore the quickest way to make an enemy was to move in with a friend. He may have been right, but I have no way of knowing now.

Things became more and more strained between my former boyfriend and I. We fought on an almost daily basis. I began to think that I might have been better off with someone else, though I did everything in my power to try and make the relationship work. It wasn't easy. Apparently, my ex began to feel the exact same. He flirted with one of H's co-workers when he chatted with H at her workplace. H saw and overheard everything, even my ex's half-joking "Wanna go out sometime?" comment made to the pizza cook in question. What was said next would forever color my feelings toward H.

H said he should simply dump me, without warning. She said he was "too great a guy" to even consider being with a "total bitch" like me. She even suggested that he date the same pizza cook and commented he should get her phone number!

When my ex told me what she had said, I was hurt and angry. I had been working on a long letter to her at the time, but when I heard what H had said about me, I burned it.

My ex and I broke up a few months later, after he was unfaithful with the sister of one of my other friends. Our break-up was a very painful year-long process; I tried to forgive him for what he had done and thought that perhaps we could salvage what was left of our relationship. There was nothing to salvage. Both of us were left shaken and shattered from the experience. It still haunts me, even now.

I lost touch with my ex and H until about three years ago, when out of the blue, she emailed me. We corresponded for a while, but little comments she made kept getting to me. She refused to acknowledge that my ex cheated on me. She claimed that I had "found someone else" and had "moved on" with my life, absolving my ex of any guilt and placing the blame upon me. And then she demanded to know what I had done to him, since he seemed so withdrawn and unresponsive. I had a few demands of my own, but I was just too polite to send them to her.

It's been three years. I have H's email address, but I haven't bothered writing. I don't know if I want to contact her anymore. We were friends for almost a decade, but I fear that our lives have changed so much that we have nothing in common anymore. (She's been married with a young child, I am merely engaged with only a cat as my dependent.) With all the pain in my past, and the hurt of what felt like her betrayal, I am unsure if I want to have anymore contact with her. Yet another part of me wants to forgive and forget. I wish I knew what to do. Saying good-bye is never easy. And letting go of the past is just as difficult.


Monday, August 15, 2005


Welcome to my blog. My name is Silverwynde. Here, you'll find some of my creative writings, whether they be fiction, fanfics, poetry, essays, or journal entries. You are welcomed to read and enjoy as you see fit. In fact, I hope you like what you read! But with that said, there are a few ground rules here.

All material is my own. If you wish to share any of my works with your friends, that's fine. Copy and paste a link from my blog in an email or IM. But please do NOT copy any of my work and call it your own! No one likes to be plagiarized.

If I post a fanfic: all characters involved in said fanfic are the property of their respective owners. They are not mine, excepting my own fan created characters. I do not own any trademarked characters in any sense of the word, nor am I trying to make any money from them or any of my fanfics.

Most of my poetry will be freestyle. I seem to have lost the ability to write with rhyme and meter; so if you hate freestyle poetry, you probably won't want to read mine.

Most of my entries will be "tagged", with one exception: my journal entries will simply have a title. Fanfics, poetry, short fiction and essays will be noted as such in their respective title fields before their main title.

You are welcomed to comment on my works, but please do so constructively. Leaving a quick "y0r werx Suxx00rzzzz!!!!11111!!!!" will be deleted. If you have a criticism, be polite and to the point. I don't want to constantly delete rude responses. It wastes both my time and yours.

There will be a variety of topics that I will write about here, so I'm hoping there will be a little something for almost everyone. However, if you don't like or approve what I'm writing about, please don't read it. I don't want you to read something that you don't like. Again, it wastes time, both yours and mine.

Updates will be done as frequently as possible. Writing takes a bit and I am my own worst critic, so please be patient.

Until next time!


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