Idiosyncratic.: Blood ties.

2/01/2010

Blood ties.

You know how your family INFURIATES YOU BEYOND BELIEF, no one else is such an ANNOYING cow as people in your family, they annoy you so much you just want to smack them, SWEET CONNECTION TO THEIR FACE AND YOU CAN NEVER GET RID OF THE BASTARDS!? And... In a way, you dont want to get rid of them.

I mean you can really really dislike your family, all the time, no one can make you feel so vexed..
but you love them, and you always will.

No matter what.

If someone tells you not to see your family again, because they're bad, they hurt you, or they're not a good family, in most cases, fuck that.
It's your family, and you don't let anyone take that away from you.

Your brother might say some awful things, and get himself into trouble, and hurt you, and call you names, and annoy you, you just want to throw a frying pan at him..
but you love him all the same,
all the hurt you put each other through, its misdirected perhaps, but its still out of love.
Whatever they do, you'll stand up for them. They're family. You can't change family, even if you wish it.

Some families don't have this kind of love, but they're fewer, and I don't understand them.

That is how I love Caro.
No, we are not blood, but if I had awoken from a coma, I'd feel it like we were.
He's so foolish. No one annoys me like him, aside from my own family.
I wish that he didn't draw me back, but he does, because he is as good as blood.
You can't change that.. Imagine someone trying to split you and your Dad up, or taking you from your Mum, and your siblings, its like that. You cannot break bonds like that, you don't understand how they are so strong, but they are.
It's a strange connection, like its meant to be, even if it doesn't fit within the lines of what is right and good, it is how it is, a different love. A kiss with a fist.

Why try and fight it? I did..
epic fail.

"Why run? You know I'll catch you. Your mine, Cara."

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The boy and his falcon - One of my favourite stories.

Once there was a boy.
When the boy was six years old, his father gave him a falcon to train.
Falcons are raptors - killing birds, his father told him, hunters of the sky.
The falcon didnt like the boy, and the boy didnt like it either.
Its sharp beak made him nervous, and its bright eyes always seemed to be watching him.
It would slash at him with its beak and talons when he came near: For weeks his wrists and hands were bleeding.
He didnt know it, but his father had selected a falcon that had lived in the wild for over a year, and thus nearly impossible to tame.
But the boy tried, because his father had told him to make the falcon obedient, and he wanted to please his father. He stayed with the falcon constantly, keeping it awake by talking to it and even playing music to it, because a tired bird meant it was easier to tame.
He learned the equipment, the jesses, the hood, the brail, the leash that bound the bird to his wrist.
He was meant to keep the falcon blind, but he couldnt bring himself to do it - instead he tried to sit where the bird could see him as he touched and stroked its wings, willing it to trust him.
He fed it from his hand, and at first it would not eat. Later, it ate so savagely that its beak cut the skin of his palm. But the boy was glad, because it was progress, and because he wanted the bird to know him, even if the bird had to consume his blood to make that happen.
He began to see that the falcon was beautiful, that its slim wings were built for speed of flight, that it was strong and swift, fierce and gentle. When it dived to the ground, it moved like light. When it learned to circle and come to his wrist, he nearly shouted with delight.
Sometimes the bird would hop onto his shoulder and put its beak in his hair. He knew his falcon loved him, and when he was certain it was not just tamed, but perfectly tamed, he went to his father and showed him what hed done, expecting him to be proud.
Instead, his father took the bird, now tame and trusting, in his hands, and broke its neck.
I told you to make it obedient, his father said and dropped the birds lifeless body to the ground. Instead, you taught it to love you. Falcons are not meant to be loving pets: They are fierce and wild, savage and cruel. This bird was not tamed, it was broken.
Later when his father left him, the boy cried over his pet, until eventually his father sent a servant to take the body of the bird and bury it.
The boy never cried again, and he never forgot what he learned: that to love is to destroy and to be loved is to be the one destroyed.
From City of Bones by Cassandra Clare.

Idiosyncratic.

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2/01/2010

Blood ties.

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The boy and his falcon - One of my favourite stories.