Diana Kurniawan

My brown cotton robe soaked my weight down in the ocean with my shoulder paralyzed from the right side. The darkness sunk my spirit underneath the waves as I choked from the salty water. I struggled to breathe as the pain from my right shoulder caused me to lose all hope for life. The water splashed over me as I swallowed some into my mouth. The ocean moated my soul, although I escaped something worse, more sinister than crashing waves.

 

A small boat with a fisherman was ahead of me, floating over the waters. His flashlight beamed in my vision as my feet pushed against the waves. With every shoulder push forward towards the boat, I raised my left arm to signal to the boatman. 

 

The boat drifted smooth towards me as the boatman reached into the water, pushing my shoulder down and letting my bouyancy lift my body as he pulled me in.

 

Sloshing over the hull I grabbed onto the seat and laid down near his feet. His eyebrows furrowed with drops of the ocean dew from his temple over me.

 

"No more fish, but got a survivor." His cheeks drooped down, making his frown like a circle about his mouth. "What happened to you?"

 

"Bitten by a snake," I said, my lips trembling with my eyes in sobs of tears masked by the salty water. "My right side is gone."

 

"Too bad. Always need a right side," said the boatman.  

 

My dreary red eyes looked away to the waves, afraid of his stare and embarrassed by my vulnerability. 

 

"You're either dumb or brave. Don't know which," said the boatman in his white robe. "Did you have a boat? Whose snake?"

 

"The mafias. Bit me behind my right shoulder," I told him. "They stole my boat, so I jumped."

 

His brown eyes watered, as he pulled onto a tarpaulin bag near the back seat of the boat. He took a small canister and twisted the cap.

 

"Might help," he said, offering me the can.

 

"What is it," I asked.

 

"Solid cod oil," he said. "Rub it on your shoulder."

 

With my left side pushing onto the bottom of the center seat, I slid it closer to his feet. I took the can and scraped some oil and rubbed it over my right shoulder. It did nothing.

 

"Why did you jump?" He asked. 

 

"I didn't want to die in front of them," I said, still choking from the salty water. "Would you have picked up a dead body?"

 

He stroked his brown beard, and replied, "Nothing substitutes grace," as he searched for something else inside his tarpaulin bag. He took out a thermos, and opened it.

 

"Water, drink," he offered. 

 

I took the thermos and gulped down some fresh water, as I felt his eyes on my face. I wiped my mouth and asked him, "Why are you here at night?"

 

"I'm lost," he said. He turned his shoulders behind him and pulled a large fishing net and threw it in front of me.  "Haven't caught a fish, since dawn." 

 

"I'm almost a cripple," I said, as I took the edge of the fishing net and threw it over the water. "They got only half of my body and my mind."

 

The boatman took the rest of the fishing net and spread it across the water beside the boat. Waiting for a few moments, he hoped for a tug and a pull. Nothing.

 

"Did you want to die?" he asked me. I lowered my head as I felt a stabbing pain on my shoulder. With my left hand I squeezed my right shoulder and felt mucus over the bite near my nape. I looked on my left palm and red blood with some white fatty body oils smeared over it. "I did," I answered.

 

"Why did you ask for help?" he asked. 

 

"I don't know," I said. My chest bone cracked within, realizing my attempt was not destiny, but I would be alone on the shore. "I felt scared to leave."

 

"That answer has got the flu," he said. The net was limp and the waves calmed over the ocean. The mist cleared and the sky over us parted, showing the moon and the stars. "I wanted to drift away."

 

"Why did you save me?" I asked. 

 

"Choosing the way of the faithful. Prayed something would stop me," he said. The tug of the net from under his feet startled him. 

He pulled it in, and fishes were caught in between the nettings. 

 

"One more cast," I told him.

 

He took the fishes out of the netting and cast the net over the waters on the same side.

 

"This is the same spot where there were no fishes." In just a few moments, the netting slipped down into the water as the boatman pulled it into the boat. 

 

My right side felt prickles of needles as I tried to move it around on my shoulder. I rotated my right cuff and felt myself move. "I'm not paralyzed," I shouted. The cod oil might be magic.

 

"Snakes can die," he said. The netting was too heavy for him, and as he began to pull it harder, he stepped outside of the boat and walked over the ocean.

 

I gasped as I saw him walk over the water, pulling the netting into the boat as fishes flipped onto the seats filling the boat. There were hundreds of fish, what kind we didn't care, but he caught them.

 

"The way of the faithful servant never loses hope," he said, pulling the netting and eventually the last few knots of the mesh.

 

He took the netting into his boat and with a big grin, he said, "Let's get back to shore. I did somethin' good."

 

I stood up on the boat and watched him put the fishes into his buckets. I looked to the waters where the waves choked me several miles before.

 

The water was still, and I was alive.

 

Just write.

 

 

 

 

 

 

My head submerged underwater and my lungs breathed out the condense air as tiny bubbles floated over my face. The evening news showed deaths of Asian women in Atlanta a few days ago, but I refused to listen to the thought and immersed myself in the bath water relaxing my mind. 

Two days ago, an active shooter murdered 10 innocent people at the King Soopers Grocery Store, in Boulder, Colorado, nearby a cafe I frequently spent time in to write. There was a clearing force injecting my heart, to clean nonsense and only give space to those who loved me and no one else.

 

The rest of the world no longer mattered, and I felt forced to shelter in the comfort of stable friendships, critical people only, because those were my community. I didn't want to speak or process my grief to anyone around me. I wanted to close the door to the friends I have yet to meet or develop relationships with, and focus only on the current and immediate close circle of families and friends.

 

Those violence almost closed the door to a future filled with harmony, new friendships with beautiful lives and souls, and almost impeded my growth as a human being.

 

My drive and purpose in life came knocking on the gates of my brain, and asked it to open and relent compassion for my well being; through trauma processing and making connections with my fellow coworkers and customers I met on a daily basis.

 

I realized, my purpose was to send out beautiful energy and to help others in words, action, and love, more than I received. It was my calling to fulfill as a fateful destiny, for which I never chose but it chose me and happened accordingly. 

After witnessing those tragedies via social media and television, I almost lost my sparks. It stunted my creativity for a couple of days, from fearful thoughts that I might pose as a threat for a senseless and irrational human being. People who committed mass shooting, racism, rapes, violence, terrorisms at all levels, including stalking and gang banging, have no purpose in life, their souls full of egos. They felt the existence of good prevents them from their freedom to release the erratic behavior to oppress those who pose as revolutionary. They felt threatened in their subconscious by good lives, opportunities, diversity, tolerance, harmony, and peace. The crazies almost had their statements fulfilled, but that would only suppress growth of our future and ridicule our youth. 

Came back my thoughts to the knocking of my own heart beats pumping my subconscious. It asked me to write out my thoughts and gave me a newfound freedom of expression. It was my right to be Asian because I was born with it, and my right to want gun safety, and my right to grieve for my beloved Father, who died a month ago.

 

I had the right to process it, to not fear it, to be angered by it, but not to be negatively moved or provoked by it. I was the strong tower who had the right to sunshine, and it was an ordained future. Those vile acts and the death shan't lead me to captivity. I was free to express my emotion, because it was sane and creative, not vehemence of ghore. 

Submerged underwater, my brain cooled down, the door to my mind and heart opened for a life of adventurous journey, running with beating pulse pacing my life to enjoy it once again. The tiny bubbles kept floating over my face and I rose up exposing my shoulders over the bath water.

 

This was a thought processed, after a few dismal days.

 

Just write.

There was a small fly on the trash can beside the door, inside the lunch room of some random place of work.

 

"Why is it just sitting there?" John said.

 

"Don't know, it's chillin'," said George.

 

"How come we always want to kill 'em? Them flies?" asked John.

 

"Well....look at it, it's on a trash can, why not kill it?" said George.

 

"Well, isn't it a sin?" asked John.

 

"I wanna kill you sometimes, but is not a sin," said George.

 

"What you mean you want to kill me? Because I'm askin' about some fly? What you getting at?" confronted John.

 

"Why you ask such dumb questions? Why is a fly just sittin' there. Why can't you do some work for a change," he said. George got angry.

 

"I'm working. I'm here aren't I? It's called asking an intelligent question. You know…questions, meant to be discussed," said John.

 

They looked at the fly and it was still there, chillin' according to George.

 

"Let's kill it," said John.

 

"Why you gotta kill everything? This is why I should kill you, maybe you should stop bullyin' some small fly and start workin' and stop rollin' that paper," said George.

 

John took a piece of paper from the kitchen table and tried to hit the fly with the rolled paper, as George tried to stop it. They wrestled each other, trying to kill a fly and what looked like a simple discussion turned into a fight.

 

"Why can't you leave them flies alone? Anti-violence," said George.

 

"It's a fly! Let me do it!" yelled John, because his manliness somehow could diminish if the fly wasn't dead in a few seconds.

 

Their boss, Olaf, walked in. He asked them, "What's this kerfuffle? I'm writing both of you up because you're wrestling in the kitchen."

 

John grabbed the rolled piece of paper, and tried to kill the fly, but he missed. George slapped John on the back of his head and Olaf saw him.

 

"Nevermind, you're both fired. I told you to stop, but you didn't acknowledge me," said Olaf.

 

"What? It's just a fly and a small argument. Why did you fire me?" asked John.

 

George slapped John on the back of his head, then John punched George on his face so hard that John fell down and almost passed out.

 

"You know, it don't mean much, but it felt good. I'm on the same side of the fly," said George.

 

"You're a stupid crazy man! It's just a fly," said John, trying to get back on his feet.

 

Olaf, the boss, wiped the trash can and the fly was stuck to the piece of paper. He looked at the fly closely on the paper and thought it was already dead.

 

"Hahahahah....," Olaf laughed at them so loud because the fly didn't fly at all, until it did, into his mouth.

 

Gulp, Olaf swallowed it.

 

"Oooo...that's embarrassin'," said John.

 

"Yea, it sure is," said George.

 

"Don't you ever tell anyone!" Olaf said, throwing the paper into the trash.

 

"You bet," said George. "But, we need our jobs back." George nodded once and kept his chin to his chest and smiled. "Nothing to be ashamed of."

 

"Promise Boss," said John, smiling a tender smile.

 

Olaf clenched his teeth, and walked out of the lunch room in slight irritation and a bad mood.

 

"Wasn't our fault," said John to George.

 

"It's in intestines heaven now," George replied.

 

The end. Just write.

The Father knows his flock, and His arms are wide as the width of the universe encasing me in His love. The Father knows my life and there is nothing he doesn't understand about me, as I talk to Him in my days and nights, even in my sleep. My Father on Earth knows Him and my Father in heaven approves of his love for me. On a snowy evening, I visit him to see how he smiles at me as snowflakes falls on my face. 

 

My time with my Father on Earth and in Heaven are the means to my life, as they both teach me humility with mercy and grace. Troubles in the past, I tell them both, with honesty not fear. When I am afraid of their judgement, I ask my Father on Earth if my Father in heaven will be ashamed of me, and my Father on Earth stops for a moment and tells me, if he is on Earth then he will not, but unconditional love forgives the past. 

 

Moments of futile sadness that comes during loneliness from wrong steps, I tell them both. My Father on Earth tells me that I am His Princess and his alone and no one can change the fact and I am with him. With embrace they both hold me and they always remind me I am their beautiful daughter and their opinions ranks highest in my life. 

 

There will never be a moment when I forget my Father on Earth or in Heaven, because I love them deeply. I don't care if either of them grows old and weary, I am here and will never leave. 

 

Just write.

The Blind Dog Cafe bustled with customers on Black Friday, because Pearl Street in Boulder was a scene for the holidays each year. The cafe was just a block away from the main strip, as it drew customers from the local neighborhoods. John and Edith* were no stranger to the cafe with this being their tenth year as a blind couple, living in a small apartment on Spruce Street. They walked to the cafe this cold crisp Black Friday evening, holding hands with their white canes in opposite hands.

 

"Do you remember when we first met?" asked Edith, searching with her cane for a safe passage.

 

"Of course I remembered, your voice was tender and I couldn't stop the tingles on my spines," said John.

 

"You sounded like Morgan Freeman. Then you told me your last name was Hesselbeck, so I had to talk to you some more," said Edith. "It was a voice of experience and comfort. It soothed me."

 

"A woman's voice carries her heart, and I can hear a bitch from a mile away," said John, his white cane bumped onto a tree on planted Earth.

 

"Bitches be bitchin. They're in a sound proof room in heaven, that's the truth, so Jesus won't have to put up with them**," said Edith. "If I wasn't blind I would still marry you."

 

"That's the sweetest thing you said today, Edith," said John. "You'd rather marry me than that Beast of a Prince in Beauty and the Beast? The man looked good in Braille."

 

"Of course, honey. He's fantasy, and you know he'd leave me if there was a Belle in the horizon," said Edith. "The fact is, I'm blind, and we are both soulmates."

 

"I wondered why we're the handicapped, when a lot of people are born without a heart. They're missing the most common gene in the world. Kindness," said John.

 

They approached the street light, and Edith's cane hit the light pole. She pressed the button and heard the beeps as John held her free hand tight as they were about to cross the street.

 

"You know how people helped us when we were little?" asked Edith. "I bet they never stopped helping."

 

"I think you're right," said John. "I think the more kindness there are inside a human being, the more love lives inside this world."

 

The crossing signal beeped as John and Edith walked together towards The Blind Dog. There was a barista at the counter as expected, and as usual, John and Edith ordered their favorite cups of treats.

 

"Ron, is that you?" asked John. Ron was always there on Friday nights, and The Blind Dog was his usual gig.

 

"Yes, sir," said Ron. "Edith, you want your tumeric ginger latte?"

 

"Now that's the sound of a man who paid attention," said Edith. "Yes, Ron, let me have a cup, please."

 

"John, what are you having?" asked Ron, punching the item on his cash register.

 

"Half calf Americano, please," said John. "Can you pour a two percent at three inches from the top?"

 

"Will do, sir," said Ron.

 

"Let's go to France tonight," said John.

 

"By the Eiffel Tower, and you proposed to me?" asked Edith.

 

"Then we hold hands in the corner and eat something sugary," said John, in a bit of a giggle.

 

"Peppermint, plenty of them. I can smell it. Christmas is a few weeks away," said Edith.

 

"We can cuddle and pretend no one is watching," said John.

 

"We won't care because we're blind," giggled Edith.

 

"We can sip on our treats and think of London," said John. "And talk about that time when the Braille nubs misspelled port into portly."

 

Edith laughed, and said, "I can pretend I'm a blonde. With blue eyes."

 

John laughed, and replied, "Then we can dress up. Me, in a chaplin hat, and you in a red chiffon dress."

 

"Our lives are more glamourous blind than with our eyes," said Edith.

 

"I think that's the miracle of being us," said John. "There is no handicap with imagination."

 

Edith took his hand and kissed it, as they waited in line for their treats at the cafe. Christmas was just a few weeks away, but John and Edith lived in a world where Christmas as well as romance was an everyday tradition. They lived in reality with the light of their hearts and minds, and through them they were never in the dark. 

 

Just write.

 

* - J.R.R. Tolkien and Edith Tolkien

** - Derived from God Help the Child by Toni Morrison.

It was a time of youth that I claimed love for literature in all of its forms, to hold true my heart of its ode to time and languages. I shall never discriminate any form of writings from all spaces and out of all mediums in this planet to educate myself of the true love of literature. 

 

All genres and all styles I shall forever learn, because I was already in love since I was young. And this Christmas, I won't neglect the classics.

 

I knew I was in love and this Christmas, I made a vow to own it to seep all of my juice from literature forever. I covered myself in stories and books since I was a child, and I won't be able to stop. It will forever be my creative habit. As I enjoyed the Christmas season with its lights and sweet flavors, I will return to my one true love, books and words. It might be lonely at first, but the payoff was always more rewarding than heartbreaks. I desired true love in human form, that I won't argue with, but since I found myself without a soulmate, I will keep loving, but in a literary form. 

 

For one thing, I won't have the funds to do otherwise, and with the Christmas season coming, utility bills will be my priority. However, my primary affection will remain literature and the art of it. Creative writings and what I blog will center my soul with grounding efforts to become more than I ever imagined, a good writer.

 

Not just for Christmas, but this true love was always inside me. Believe in me or not, I won't count on others to affirm. 

 

I shall do so myself, and I already started.

 

Just write.

 

As beautiful as a pair of doves, were two lovebirds in the woods, near the Kingdom of Locksford. The young maiden's wavy hair was as dark as onyx with eyes as green as leaves and her skin was as tawny as the Earth. The Prince's shoulder length hair was brown as oak with large eyes as dark as coals and his skin as beautiful as ivory. They kissed and sang the most of beautiful love songs professing their love for each other. She lived not far yonder inside a commoner's cottage, but he was the Prince of Locksford and the king and queen awaited him home inside their castle.

 

"What must we do, my love?" she asked him. "I am just a poor villager."

 

"Not to worry. I will travel home and you shall fetch me in a fortnight to the gates of my castle. I will meet you there, and we will tell my parents about our plans. Then we will be joined in marriage by our priest, thereafter," he said. "No one will harm us, because I am the Prince and I can plead to my parents for their blessings."

 

"I shall meet you at the gates, my love," she said. "I will follow you shortly after you leave."

 

"Keep this handkerchief and this heirloom coin. For both will be your ticket into our city gates to meet me," he said. He bid her farewell only for short while, or so he thought, as he rode off on his black stallion to ask for his parent's permission and prepare for the imminent matrimony.

 

The young maiden walked to her cottage and took what was left of her belonging from her humble home, to prepare for travels to meet her prince charming. She slept the night away in dreams of love and a happily ever after.

 

The next day, on her journey to the city gates, a pack of wolves brutally attacked her. Her body was bloody and wounded and her belongings were destroyed. She had nothing but her tattered clothes and the two tokens of love from her prince.

 

Two sisters were walking in the woods and saw the remnants of the beautiful maiden on the ground.

 

"Is she dead?" Nahla, the older sister asked.

"She is but a carcass of dog meat. Let us leave her," said Mahla, the younger sister.

 

"I am alive, please help me," pleaded the wounded maiden.

 

Nahla and Mahla took the maiden and carried her back to their cottage by her arms and legs.  The maiden was heaving and the two sisters realized that the young maiden was near her last breath.

 

"I am to meet my love, the Prince of Locksford," said the maiden, as blood spurted out of her gut. "Can you help me?"

 

"The Prince of Locksford?" said Nahla, aghast, as her eyes became fierce with fires. Mahla was suddenly filled with jealousies and asked, "I deserve to meet the Prince of Locksford. How about did you meet such a man of prominence? You are nothing but dog meat!" said Mahla.

 

"But, I must tell him what happened. I have his handkerchief. Could you give this to him? And tell him I was savaged, but I will always love him?" said the maiden, heaving in tears of sorrow and suffering.

 

"I will do it, and I will see if the Prince will take me as his friend," said Nahla. Nahla smirked, because she was in joy for the beautiful maiden was dying in pain.

 

Nahla left her home and left Mahla with the maiden, and as the maiden cried in grief, Mahla asked her, "How would you know if he received the message if Nahla will not return? If I was in her shoes, I would take the Prince and tell him you were no longer his bride. Then perhaps, he would take me instead."

 

"Oh dear sister, please help me. It is my last wish, to tell him that I am forever in love with him," said the dying maiden.

 

Mahla asked her, "Then you will die alone?"

 

"Please take this coin for assurance that he will receive my message.  Please tell him, I am forever his, and his love is etched inside my soul, forever," said the maiden, with her last breath.

 

Mahla, still in disbelief of the maiden's death, took a knife and stabbed her through her heart to guarantee her death. She took the coin the maiden gave her and left to Locksford, to meet the Prince.

 

When the two sisters arrived at the gates, they were both angry at each other; because there were two tokens, not one, that might confuse the Prince of Locksford from choosing a replacement.

 

"What brings you here?" asked the Prince, in his full regalia, awaiting his bride.

 

"We are here to tell you, that your love had changed her mind," said Nahla.

 

"I was given this coin to tell you that I am to replace her," said Mahla.

 

"That is not true, my Prince. I was given this handkerchief. I am to replace her," said Nahla.

 

The Prince was devastated and his sadness overwhelmed him, as he dropped to his knees and wept that all of the angels in heaven felt his grief.

 

In heaven, the Lord of Lords saw the misfortune of the young maiden, whose spirit entered the pearly gates. He summoned his angels to bring the maiden's spirit into his court.

 

"Bring me the young woman. I have a plan for her. A plan to prosper her, not to harm her. A plan for a future and a hope. A plan for love," the Lord said.

 

The angels took the maiden's spirit and her soul was brought in judgment by the Lord's court.

 

"You were beaten and savaged. Was this true?" the Lord said.

 

"Yes, my Lord," said the young maiden, who faced death before her time.

 

"He loves you, The Prince of Locksford. You were meant to be together," said the Lord.

 

In the Kingdom of Locksford, the Prince spent all of his days and nights in his regalia on the seat of his throne, awaiting in tears for his beautiful bride. Each tear drop he cried became a million more and as he wept, the tears became gushing water that swept the villages and forests, as his castle flooded with tears. If his tears were made of gold, the Kingdom of Locksford would drown in treasures everlasting.

 

Nahla and Mahla were upset that they had to scale the castle walls and ceilings to find the highest points over ground to escape the waters.

 

"He loved her! What a weak soul he has," said Mahla.

 

"Only a fool would cry over lost love," said Nahla. "His bride will never come back to him. She was dog meat!"

 

Their lips spoke of the rotting hearts inside their souls, but the Prince cared not of their commentaries nor their beauty. They felt wrong, and he wept away, as he tried to heal through unleashing his emotion in prayers.

 

Each tear drop the Prince wept were collected in large glass jars by the angels and as millions of jars filled the heavenly sanctuaries, the Lord of all Lords sighed in affirmation to return true love to the Prince.

 

The Lord of Lords kissed the cheek of the young maiden, and instantly, she was brought to her prince. At that moment, her soul was given a second chance in true love. She was dressed in an iridescent gown, made of silk and diamonds, with a crown made of gold and rubies.

 

He saw her in front of his eyes as he fell to his knees out of sheer surprise and joy. The waters from his tears immersed into the ground and became the nutrients for the village and the forests. The trees and flowers around the castle bloomed and decorated the once flooded surrounding into blossoming springtime.

 

The Prince and the young maiden ran into each other's arms, and he asked her, "Did you send the two sisters to replace our love?"

 

"No, my love. It was my last dying wish to send them with a message that I loved you, till my dying days," said the maiden. "I was attacked by wolves in the midst of my travel."

 

"Who were the two sisters to you?" asked the Prince.

 

"I thought they would help me, so I gave them your tokens for me to send it to you. for our wedding day. But, they murdered me, instead," said the maiden.

 

The Prince of Locksford was angry and drew his sword out of its sheath and called his guards.

 

"Find me the two sisters with my handkerchief and coin. Bring them to me at once!" said the Prince.

 

The guards took the two sisters, and told them that the Prince had asked for their presence in the court.

 

"Is this the time of our marriage, sister?" said Nahla.

 

"I hope he will only take me, as his bride, and leave you inside your home, forever," said Mahla.

 

Nahla and Mahla fought and ripped each other's clothes, but the guards separated them and brought them to the Prince at once.

 

"Off with their heads. They have committed a grave crime. Fraud and blackmail! A crime amongst our people and an insult to the church!" commanded the Prince to the guards.  

 

And the two sisters were beheaded.

 

In heaven, the Lord saw the souls of the two sisters and told them.

 

"It is with great joy, that you both shall serve the worlds' worst criminals by cleaning their wastes inside their dungeons. For all eternity," said the Lord.

 

In the Kingdom of Locksford, the Prince realized his maiden was unprotected and was left in the forest amongst wolves, tigers, bears and many more carnivorous animals. He realized he should not have left love without attention or a clear pathway to love's return. He should have pleaded to the king and queen for a just approval of their love and appealed to never be harmed for their unconventional marriage.

 

Nahla and Mahla were random strangers whom the maiden desperately asked for help, after a tragic accident, and it was still common for the cruel world to harm the vulnerable and destroy innocent lives to claim selfish glory.

 

Thankfully, the Lord of Lords gave the Princess a second chance in life, and the Prince wanted to reclaim love and faithful loyalty to his maiden. After the approval of the King and Queen of the Kingdom of Locksford, they resumed their plans to wed and formed a family. The Kingdom of Locksford bloomed and their harvest multiplied as the Royal Family grew in numbers with a princess in waiting.

 

Unconventional marriages became a tradition for the Kingdom of Locksford, as royalties and prominent families married commoners who took their breath away, and previously married men and women were given second chances in love.

 

The tears of the Prince of Locksford gave so much harvest to the sunflowers in the fields as new buds grew each day. Sunflowers became the symbol of the Kingdom of Locksford, and as tradition, a prince would bring a blossom of it to his maiden for their first engagement, ever after.

 

Just write. The End.

My eyes hath seen a world anomaly

Of a love well deserved living inside me

My mind must be of magical sensory

With extraordinary nerves sending miracles

To ordinary beings in words carrying spirits

 

My bosom wishing for a clavicle of a ballerina

But, with profound confidence in between my chest

Wisdom of a life grinded by the mortars of fate

Found in anguish, sadness, but also triumphs

How grateful it was to have lived this life

 

With time as my best friend I walked this journey

Unafraid, bearing steadfast hope for an upside of love

Not wishful but trusting in His plan in all of its forms

Whether with or without, I walked and prayed

Petitioning for a destiny I desire met by His plans

 

It was always a working progress.

 

Just write.

 

 

Supposedly, our natural mindset leaned to the negative, but for a while it set off on fire overdrive going uphill. It was my life and I deserved to care and devote my utmost for its highest potential. This drive was for myself and my fullfilling prophecy of faith in times of CoVid19.

 

I pushed forward, one step in front of the other, ignoring the cycles of doubts. The thoughts became ignorable as I glossed over them and they were nothing at all. 

 

Nothing could stop me, even the rude blames of indecent women or men shifting their hatred towards me. Nothing. I was destined for greatness, given from God and professed by me under heaven. I was the strong tower and won't ever be shot down. 

My will was always designed with an unbeatable compassion and hope unfailing,even in the darkest of times while under pressure. I was the diamond, beautified by trauma and a well-oiled machine, Dei Gratia. I was never meant to fail and even when my hair grew long beneath my back and buttocks, it will flow with grace and passion. 

I persevered, and I won't stop!

 

Just write.

The performance ended with Giuseppe Baptiste and Pearsons Rockfield bowing in unison. Pearsons Rockfield jumped with his hands in the air and the small crowd jumped up with him.

 

"This morning is the beginning of a long list of performances all across the world in spirit of violas in the universe," said Giuseppe Baptiste.

 

Karina, Rambo and I looked at each other and wondered why there would even be such a thing? We ran behind the performance circle area and waited for them to have a dialogue of some sort.

 

Pearsons Rockfield came out of the circle and walked towards the back of the garden while Giuseppe Baptiste followed him.

 

I watched them walking towards me and looked at their fingers for signs of the ring that had the symbol of the machete and fire that brought back memories of the perpetrator who hurt Karina.

 

Karina stood behind me, as I felt her fears and tremors in her soul. 

"Baby, don't worry please. We're here for you," I told her. Rambo held her shoulders and we walked towards Pearsons and Giuseppe.

 

"May we bother you for a conversation? We are huge fans," I said politely. Karina and Rambo stayed a few feet behind me.

 

"Well, adoration is our favorite form of flattery," said Pearsons Rockfield. He took out his hair brush that was in his back pocket and started brushing his hair.

 

"Young one, oh you must love me so much to come so boldly for a chance to meet me. Tell me where I can sign my autograph," said Giuseppe Baptiste as he blinks Morse code - Worship me, you smitten puppy!

 

"Eehhh, I wanted to ask questions, for a simple clarification and for a statement from you both," I said.

 

Rambo came closer beside me, and said, "In adoration, of course...". 

I looked for Katina and she was holding Rambo's shirt. My Father came along behind her with Boris and Betina in the stroller.

 

"I also have some questions alongside my sons," said my Father. "And this here is Karina, my adopted daughter."

 

Giuseppe and Pearsons looked in awe as they closed their gaping mouth with their hands.

 

"Be Jesus, you mean you are all from different mothers of this same man? How might I be of your acquaintance sir!" said Pearsons Rockfield.

 

"No, no, not that way, but these two little ones are Karina's and she is a survivor, by men of The New Order, who assaulted her because of her soul privilege to gain prosperity and honor for their souls and to become famous or gain riches," said my Father.

 

I was ready to get shot somehow, by one of their body guards, but there were none.

 

"Oh we are non-violent, young ones," said Giuseppe Baptiste. "I was ordained as a holy priest."

 

"That's not how you came into power as was written in history," I said.

 

"We can resolve this," said Pearsons Rockfield. "I am his advisor."

 

"And how have you advised him, Sir Pearsons Rockfield? By letting the men who works for him abuse the system and hurt the vulnerables like Karina?" Rambo asked.

 

"Why you dare to raise your tongue at me?!" said Pearsons Rockfield.

 

"Explain to us why there are men with artillery and vehicles looking for the last of the Royals, only to harm them?" I asked. "Wasn't that how you also gained all of the control in the world."

 

Pearsons Rockfield turned reddish brown on his face as Giuseppe Baptiste began to stutter. "Bub bub but, that was not at all my purpose in this control," he said.

 

Pearaons Rockfield looked angry and his eyebrows scrunched and his balding head began to sweat as pearl drops rose from the top of his balding head.

 

"We have the power to prosecute you and kill you if we want!" Yelled Pearsons Rockfield.

 

"But you still need to prove to us that you are both non-violent," said my Father.

 

"Was it because of heart breaks? A woman scorned you? Hated you and burned you? She left you for another?" asked Karina. "I was hurt and the men never took responsibility for their actions."

 

"Why you little wench! You are blaming us for the sins of others?" shouted Pearsons Rockfield. Giuseppe Baptiste blinked and blinked and this time the message was - "Gogshiged whyandhb! &7¥hike?" 

My Fathers d I could read his blinks and I knew they were in fear. 

Immediately, two men as big as horses came approaching us. They were dressed in suits and ties and walked with an aggressive body language.

 

Karina shook and stood behind me, but she knelt down and took the stroller and held Boris inside her arm. "In this baby boy, is the answer to life," said Karina.

"Only fools would preach thus without shame," said Pearsons Rockfield.

 

"This baby has more love inside him than both of you and all of your armies," said Karina.

 

"How bold!" Giuseppe Baptiste said with a gasp. "What is your name?"

 

Pearsons Rockfield was irritated and elbowed Giuseppe Baptiste. "She is our opposition!"

 

"Why must I be your enemy? I've been hurt and never harmed you. Are you afraid of me?" asked Karina.

 

"Pearsons and Giuseppe, we want to know why you allowed your men to harm vulnerable people? And why would you hurt good families and hurt Royals, to get what you want?" I said.

 

Pearsons Rockfield and Giuseppe Baptiste we're silent. 

"Do you want to annihilate them, my Royal Highnesses?" Said the gargantuan men in suits and tie.

 

Pearsons Rockfield was noticeably irate with both of his hands akimbo. "I was forced into my last marriages and I won't do it again! From now on, I control everyone's destinies!" he said. "You dare to go against me? Huh! Insolents!"

 

My Father, Rambo, Karina and I gasped. Giuseppe Baptiste held his hands in between his legs, covering his shame, discreetly.

 

"That was your problem the whole time?" Karina asked.

 

"You married twenty times and you never got to choose the right person?" Why did you do it? No one twisted your arms?" asked Rambo.

 

"Because I was forced to marry for politics," said Pearsons Rockfield. "So now, I will control the world!"

 

"Giuseppe, who did you want to love?" I asked.

 

He shrugged his shoulders and raised his arms in the air, "Myself!!!'" 

"You are two of the most moronic people I have ever met!" My Father said. "It was because you never had love with the people you wanted so you punished the whole world? Why didn't you ask the person out and say your truths?"

 

"I married for money and privilege and for authority! But, they hated me. The right man was too much to handle," said Pearsons Rockfield.

 

My Father, Karina, Rambo and I gasped and held our hands over our lips. "Oh...," we all said in unison.

 

Giuseppe suddenly lowered his head and looked coy towards Pearsons Rockfield. "Sorry, dear,..." he said.

 

My Father, Karina, Rambo, and I gasped and held our hands over our right cheek. "Oh my,....," we said in unison.

 

Karina suddenly burst into tears, and hugged Pearsons Rockfield. "I'm sorry! Everyone deserves true love!"

 

Just write.