This is so beautiful it made me want to cry. (One of my aunts has terminal cancer and only has weeks to live, so I may be sensitive on this subject right now.) Be sure to click through for the whole story — the last frame where he kisses the young girl is wonderful and heartwarming.
Geek guys are totally the best.
Stephen Amell meets a young girl with cancer during Comic Con panel.
Spotted this scrap of poetry on Twitter today, and it’s perfect and I don’t want to lose it.
you’re trembling, but he reaches over and
he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist,— Richard Siken bot (@sikenpoems) July 25, 2017
It’s probably no secret that I’ve been feeling very frustrated with life for a while now. Part of the problem is that I feel like the Universe is constantly pushing back, putting roadblocks in my way whenever it looks like I might start making progress. Either something goes wrong or there’s some delay or setback, like the world is saying “Not now; not yet. Be patient.” And I’m really, really tired of being patient. I’m not very good at it, I suppose.
There’s an old saying that good things come to those who wait, but it doesn’t feel that way. There’s always more waiting to do. And there never seem to be enough good things to justify the wait.
A few months ago, Dad asked me if I was still writing. I think he was trying to distract me from the whole world-on-fire situation, but it didn’t work: I immediately started crying. (I’ve been more than a little depressed, obviously.) I have not been writing. At all. The only writing I’ve done was at retreat last summer, when I finished a story I started at retreat the summer before. (The sections I read at retreat got positive reviews. I sent it to one very competitive market at the end of April. It got summarily rejected. And that’s that, for the moment, anyway.)
I go on retreat again at the end of the month. I have no idea what, if anything, I’ll work on. I haven’t been able to look at the novel. It’s too big, too hard, too much. Maybe I’ll work on an essay about my health. Maybe I’ll write fluffy fan-fic just to find joy in writing again. Maybe I won’t write anything and will just read and sleep. But I’m going, if for nothing else but to see my friends and spend a week in nature and away from life stress, work stress, and news. Because how can you create when the world’s on fire?