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Posts Tagged ‘Fairy Tales’

When I was young, I read all the fairytales. The pretty ones. The sparkly ones. The dark. And the doomful.

 

Most of us did, right?

 

But I wonder…did they have the same effect on everyone else? (If I were feeling silly, I’d insert that little guy here…the one with his finger and thumb resting on his chin. And a pensive look on his little face. (Ah, go on. He’s one of my favorites)

thinking-face

Stories like Hansel and Gretel and Little Red Riding Hood. Sleeping Beauty. And The Three Little Pigs.

 

Ohhh yes. I slurped that sinister stuff up like it was flowing from a big huge straw.

 

And it’s strange. Because I’m a realist in most areas of my life. Yet somehow, I’m gullible in this one regard. Probably because I’m a sucker for a great story.

 

I want to believe. Buy in. Exist amongst enchanting pages. And nestle safely between their protective covers. But hey. Only if there’s a good bricklayer about to keep the wolves at bay…I wouldn’t chance landing over in Dr. Seuss’s Green Eggs and HAM.

 

Anyway, back to my point. And it’s this. As a young girl, I believed in fairy tales.

 

I believed I could wish upon a star.

 

Or a birthday candle.

 

Or a dandelion.

 

And that it would come true. My wish. Whatever it was.

 

And I want that back. My faith. My belief. My gullibility. My trust in the process.

 

That if I dare to wish. Take the leap. And drink from the fountain. That it’ll pay off. That I won’t just be left holding a smoldering wick and a wilting stem.

 

That I can erect my own fairy tale.

 

That I can get back what I lost when I was young.

 

But I need you to believe with me…

 

So are you ready?

 

Okay now…

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Blow…

Wish

Photo taken at Nendrum Castle Lookout, Co Down, NI

 

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Well, this post is not at all what it was going to be today.

I set out to write a meaningful, poignant tale, light enough to laugh and bruised enough to hurt, but I got distracted by the shiny, sparkly dog running around my room, barking; “Squirrel!”

Nah, not really, but I did, with the click of a button, get whisked away to a world where there can be, at times, a little too much information. Perhaps you’ve been there…

It’s a land where lies can be truths and certainties can be deceptions, genuine can be false and fake can seem authentic. There can be endless hope and eternal damnation and all can be ceaselessly damaging.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t have letters following my name or awards in my bio, I don’t have any notable education in writing and I don’t work in a profession relating to my passion and what I hope will eventually become my career.

Yes, it’s easy to fall down the hole and find darkness in place of dreams, tempting to give up and let the bad wolf blow our house down and sometimes irresistible to believe the sky is falling, but the good new is, we have a choice.

Finding the girl that fits the glass slipper or coming back from eating the poisoned apple is not easy, but no one ever said it would be.

It does help though, when we know our unfolding fairy tale is being read.

Poisoned Apple

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