Look past the faults.
Keep moving forward.
original content and images ©j.g. lewis
A thought du jour, my daily breath includes collected and conceived observations, questions of life, fortune cookie philosophies, reminders, messages of peace and simplicity, unsolicited advice, inspirations, quotes and words that got me thinking. They may get you thinking too . . .
So, I make mistakes.
An oversight or three, here and there, or an error or lack of judgment can (and will) happen. My lack of foresight simply happens.
We do not learn from our mistakes, but rather we learn from the experience.
You cannot prepare yourself for all probabilities knowing a mistake is a likely possibility.
Experience comes from noticing what you are paying attention to.
Maybe this Moon
with the power it bleeds
will illuminate more
Maybe this Moon
it simply cannot forget.
Some of us will relate
while others regret.
Maybe that Moon knows
what it is all worth
and sets an example
for those looking up
from this earth.
I'm like a pencil;
Still I write.
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
Enter your email to receive notification of significant posts. Don't worry, I won't clog up your inbox or sell your data
I struggled with it. Yesterday, when the flow was right and each letter appeared to be
falling into the correct order, and as each word seemed to propel me along, I stopped.
A dead stop, an unmitigated stop. An unintended stop; it was more than a pause, more
than a period. A stop, a full stop; a debilitating stop.
One word was all that was stopping me from continuing with a deeply personal poem I’d
been working on. It was a one-syllable word at that.
I didn’t want to use it.
I searched for alternatives, but nothing else worked. Not one other word, or a series
thereof, could substitute for the word I had used. No other word could convey the rage, or
the frustration, in the exact way this word did.
The F word: it’s one of those words. It’s one of those words that traditionally raise
eyebrows. It’s one of those words you are told, as a kid, you shouldn’t say. It was a bad
word. I remember my brother said, “fuck”, one time, in the company of my parents. It
was the only time. I recall Mom’s eyes bugging out, and Dad always had that look when
he turned angry. I learned then I wasn’t going to make the same mistake, ever. Fuck, no
Yes, its one of those words, one of those fucking words there are really no replacements
for, certainly in certain circumstances and depending, of course, on its usage. Check you
thesaurus; in many or most (probably all) there are no offerings. I’ve got Roget’s Super
Thesaurus 4th Edition on my desk, and it’s not in there. It’s not even offered as a
synonym under ‘intercourse’ (which casts doubt upon the book jacket’s “Amazingly
I don’t use it often, not as often as I should or feel like (more in dialogue than
description), and it really has lost its shock appeal; you hear it often in movies and music.
It’s one of those words.
It’s one of those words that has been censored, avoided, painted over, hushed, and stifled for generations. It still appears on public broadcaster’s list of words you cannot say on the
airwaves. It’s one of those words that will get bleeped out. It’s one of those words that
would get your mouth washed out with soap, or get you sent to the principal’s office. It’s a bad word.
It’s one of those words there are no real replacements for, like ‘peace’ (and I realize the
folks at Roget have listed a handful of options for this word but, when you think about it.
there are no synonyms, not in the true sense of the word).
Now fuck is in the dictionary, noun and verb (Oxford here). ‘Sexual intercourse’, ‘mess
about’, ‘fool around’, and, ah, there it is: ‘expressing anger’ (I knew it fit into what I was
writing). It’s no longer listed as slang, as it once was, but it is listed as “A highly taboo
Come on, fuck off: “highly taboo”?
It might have been taboo, at one time, like even before my Grandparents were
procreating. Yes, there are times when the word just doesn’t seem appropriate (but they
did, by my calculation at least four times), but these days most everybody uses the word,
from politicians to sweet little Grade 3 students, and their mothers.
You hear it all the time; sometimes it is not well used, and other times it is placed
properly. A lot of times it’s as common as ‘um’ or ‘uh’ or ‘like’, like, you know, like,
like that (and I’m sure you do).
It is a word that means so much, and can say so much. It is a word like love (and if you
love, you are probably going to fuck, but you don’t have to love to fuck then it’s just sex
and if it’s just sex then you are going to fuck a lot . . . but I digress).
I’ve heard fuck described as the Swiss Army Knife of words: a word for all purposes
(perhaps not all occasions). It’s so utilitarian, with many functions. It describes rage (fuck
you) and joy or happiness (fuck yeah), sheer disappointment (oh fuck), sexuality and
sensuality (depending on the accent), be it a mistake or a misfit (fuck up), and for a one
syllable word there are so many inflections which make it sound bigger.
It is a useful word, in the right circumstances, and it is a wholeheartedly purposeful word. Fuck is a great curse word. It could, or can I suppose, be a hurtful word. But there are
many and more hateful words in the vernacular that are publicly acceptable and are used far too often. I can think of words associated with any of the isms (racism, sexism,
fascism, capitalism) that I find more offensive, and you can say those words on television
and get away with it (it still doesn’t make it right).
It should probably be used more than it is, but it may never be. There are far too many
stigmas, stereotypes and old wives tales that will continue to silence the word. Sadly.
This world has made progress in so many ways. Times have changed: women can vote
(at least on my continent), my gay friends can marry, and even prime time television
images can graphically illustrate the actions involved when fucking (they just can’t show
Still you can’t say fuck, not everywhere, not when you want to or need to. Not always.
It’s a bad word. Fuck.
But yesterday, despite my best efforts to find another, it was a good word.
It was the right word.
© 2015 j,g, lewis