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The Fuel

The Fly

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.

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Daddy's Girl

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. 

 

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Pretzel Flags

As Karina let go of her hug for Pearsons Rockfield, Giuseppe Baptiste uttered, "You have to allow the world to enjoy your blessings, your belongings, your favors, your body, your soul! It is called generosity."

 

"My body and its systems are not public property. I hold the human rights to reserve it, " said Karina. "I will help the world, but you will have to respect me and everyone else."

 

"You've been abused and exploited before, why not let everyone take some. You're a lowly commoner now," said Giuseppe Baptiste.

 

Pearsons Rickfield stood next to him and sucked on his thumb, then said, "C'mon, Karina, give them some."

 

My Father, Sean O'Connor, replied, "I once dated a woman who was assaulted and she was ostracized much like Karina is now, and there was no help from you nor The New Order. It was unjust. You have to realize that everyone has a sovereign right and human rights, and you shouldn't intrude into their privacy or break personal boundaries, controlling their personal lives, sex, dating, jobs, and how they shop."

 

My mind went back to the bacon products for Tier 1, and how Karina wanted some and would probably never have any if she wasn't allowed to shop that Tier with freedom. "Why can't we all shop all the Tiers?" I asked.

 

"Well....well...well....if it wasn't the Econ Professor who didn't graduate high school, yet. It's all about Taxes. The more you pay, the more privilege you get. It's that simple," said Pearsons Rockfield. 

 

No wonder the celebrities and the famous and rich have all of the luxuries and power in life. The government felt they pay more taxes monetarily, but lacked the understanding that they created more violence than normal. Their influence, power, money and access to commit crimes and violence proved corruptions, and Pearsons Rockfield and Giuseppe Baptiste supported The Choi Militia and The Black Mollies. 

 

"You mean to tell me, you allow your company to harm others, because they pay more taxes?" asked Rambo. "What about how they created more sins, abuses, crimes, injustice, assaults, homelessness, mental illness, and so many more burdens to society? They are the negative in this positive world. Wait, you've also made it into a pessimists' nirvana!"

 

"Insult! Such insults! How dare you? Must I remind you that I am the priest of The New Order? Of course I understand vice!" said Pearsons Rockfield. Giuseppe Baptiste held his cheeks with his palms.

 

"Wait, hold up, wait my sire!" Giuseppe Baptiste said to Pearsons Rockfield. "You mean, you did all this because you cared about money and power? I thought it was your devotion to me?!" Giuseppe Baptiste acted as the sap he was, absolutely vain and devoid of self-awareness.

 

"You are both disrespectful to the common man and woman and children, and those are the population who we need in this world," said Karina. "We as human beings, and especially you both, have to realize the need for boundaries, retaining one's soul, heart, mind, and personal space, family, heritage, culture, values, hopes, and the pursuit of one's right for happiness."

 

"And, where did you learn this human law?" asked Giuseppe Baptiste. "I was educated by The Trinity College." 

 

"She's a genius, Giuseppe," said Rambo. "Karina's been harmed much more than normal and with that, she was gifted the knowledge to defend herself. It's her powerful mind, the only reasons she was found alive under a bridge."

 

"This....this ...creature was under a bridge? You mean she lived like a rat?" asked Pearsons Rockfield, his right hand touching Karina's hair, and then pulling it away immediately as if Karina was infested with fleas. "Giuseppe, promise you won't wander down near the gutter."

 

"My dear, nowhere near the gutter unless you are with me," said Giuseppe Baptiste.

 

Noises of loud murmuring came from behind them, at the other side of the park where the center stage of the recital was located on Capital Grounds. There was a commotion, and the loudness became audible as it revealed itself as chantings from local Denverites raising The New Order flag into a braided yarn in the shape of a pretzel on sticks, held up and down, as the crowd raised a movement.

 

"By Jove, you brought your friends!" yelled Pearsons Rockfield.

 

"What sort of delusional plans did you just uncovered, Democratic Zealots!" Giuseppe Baptiste screamed.

 

"We didn't call anyone, and where are your body guards?" asked Rambo. I shoved Rambo and covered his mouth, to prevent the priests from calling their men. They took out a whistle from their pockets, and blew it and raised their arms to men across the street, but it was too late.

 

"Reform! Reform! We demand REFORM! It is the age of REFORMATION! YOU SHALL NOT DENY IT! Long Live Democracy!" chanted the crowd of Denverites. 

 

A woman came to my Father, and asked him," Are you, Sean O'Connor?" My Father aghast because she knew his name, and answered, "Yes, do you need to ask me a question? Who are you?"

 

 

"My name is Madeline, but you can call me "MAD," she said. She took her pretzel flag that was made of the braided New Order flag, and handed it to my Father. "I got a call from Dana. He's an old friend of mine, from college, and he forwarded me the recording. It was a private message, but I announced it to the public. This has to be publicized!" 

 

My Father gasped and we heard him took a breath and stepped back. "I didn't know Dana planned to do this," said my Father.

 

"Too late, these priests are corrupt!" said MAD.

 

Giuseppe Baptiste and Pearsons Rockfield hugged each other tight as they said, "We deserve to live! All the women in our pasts harmed us, and now everyone is angry we are the BENEVOLENT LEADERS of the FREE WORLD!"

 

MAD looked to them, and said, "Perjury! Both of you! You both lied! It wasn't heartbreak! It was all abuse of power!" She yelled to their face, as Karina was also afraid of the huge crowd of people, protesting REFORMATION!

 

The body guards from across the street were barricaded, and they were tied by the pretzel shaped flags, in two by twos. 

 

MAD demanded, "Announce Reform! Because in one minute, Dana's recording will be on the screens of solarized billboards with graphics capabilities, all over the world. Remember? You called those, Magical Inventions, because you controlled the pictures and the advertisements on them for your pleasure, and not to help the people."

 

Pearsons Rockfield and Giuseppe Baptiste both cried, and touched foreheads. They touched their cheeks, and told each other, "No matter what happens, we are in this together."

 

"You're both allowed to love, and it's not about that. It's about your abuse of powers," said Karina. "It's about the deaths you caused and the assaults you supported. You've also helped the violence to proliferate in the lives of others. That's what this is about."

 

Pearsons Rockfield and Giuseppe Baptiste held each other's arms, "I knew one day, the good days will be gone, and we have to become commoners again."

 

"Oh my GOD!!! You just wanted to become Royals, too?" said Rambo. "You are so stupid. Why didn't you just introduce yourself at one of their events?"

 

Pearsons Rockfield and Giuseppe Baptiste looked at Rambo, and Pearsons said, "Well....because their house would still belong to them."

 

"Why me? Why assault me?" asked Karina, with tears in her eyes, as she gasped for air realizing these two bastards were mongrels and cruel animals hungry for money and authority, with no remorse for humanity.

 

"Because we can," said Giuseppe Baptiste, as Pearsons Rockfield added, "Because we will have more umph!"

 

Karina dropped to her knees, sobbing. I realized this was brutal to her soul, and she didn't deserve any of their nonsense.

 

I held her shoulders, and said to her, "The uncivilized did wrong. My Father and I will walk with you." Karina hugged me, as my Father came to her, and caressed her black silky hair.

 

"I'm so sorry!" said Pearsons Rockfield. "How do you stop them?" Both men were afraid for their lives, because their body guards were held down and tied into a knot.

 

We all ignored them, letting the crowd of people to come closer to have them.

 

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Ocean deep

The ocean is so vast inside my mind as its darkness escapes the real sunlight in my eyes. The vision is full of a foggy midnight and it hurts inside me with the suffering deepens as memories of each stab compounds over my soul. Each knife that enters my skin and the surface of my body feels bloody and it destroys my days. The surrounding in my life becomes moist with tears as I recall the faces of those who hurt me in the past, coming back to surface with the spurts of blood.

 

Each fraudulent charge into my account where I save my life is now game for them, the criminals who steals. It hurts me that they resort to crimes to gain blessings and favors to have riches. I never make any jokes about my heritage or exploit another for their ancestry, but their labels leads the world to stab and abuse to get everything they desire to play with my mind. I am so happy I am stronger than their abuse and I will keep working and take evidence seriously. Criminals should be put to justice and they are no exceptions. It is time. They have to leave because I did nothing wrong to their lives, instead they hurt mine, with glee.

 

This time they take some, and next time, they might take my all, my life and my whole being. I don't want to be casualty of their war. They have to leave because the ocean becomes deep and I know they want me to drown and become a victim once more. I don't deserve it. Never! I will not fear!

 

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Forgiveness

Forgiveness is constant as I make it a habit with a dose of salt thrown over my shoulder. The man with an ambitious goal, and a jealous streak, lurking at each corner asking for information and reasons to hate, he deserves forgiveness. The woman with an annoying laugh who dislikes you and wants everything in her power to control your destiny despite your plea for her to stop and let it be, she deserves forgiveness.

 

I find that the more I practice even with the smaller details, it helps to lead me to forgive for the assaults, bullying, abuses and harassments. Excruciatingly difficult for me too, but the girl at the sandwich line doesn't mean for you to consume that much mayonnaise and it isn't her fault you hate white lard. Probable cause lingers in my mind of why the people who doesn't want me to have love will always try to sabotage it, but I finally let it go, and let it be, and let God. Surrendering is often the best medicine and I just don't ask for anymore harm from others by making it easier for them to hurt me. There are laws, and I am protected.

 

Forgiveness has to be done first even if the guilty doesn't know. I can just forgive and let them be and not be hard on myself and my conscience to cause me more anxiety. It is so fluid, and it helps me through, letting them be in the arms of God, and away from my dancing space. I forgive because I don't want anymore traumas. If I don't forgive, it is inside my chest and it lives there forever, as I become bitter and lose my tastebuds. The senseless pain doens't add up to healing or pleasure, because I become the victim once more. 

 

Forgiveness, an art that might take a lifetime, so I'm starting now.

 

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The Crowd

The girl with a bun on her head in a white tanky popped both of her shoulders up and down as she wound her elbows like a ferris wheel. She slided next to me and bumped on to my arms purposely, "Yo!" She kept wounding both of her elbows and walked with a swag and kicked-ball-kicked and walked about and turned. She continued on about me and bumped on to my other arm and said, "Hey!" 

 

I tried to walk straight but she kept bumping into me turning my walk into a sliding adventure side to side and back and forth. "What's up, and what's wrong?" I asked her. She lifted one eyebrow and winked and back on to wounding her elbows as she kept walking as if she waltzed her whole life through. 

 

The little boy catecorner from me had a large oblong head and his eyes squinted as he cried. His head looked balding, but it might be from his illness, or whatever it might be. The crowd of normal people walked surrounding us, dodging our bodies, leaving us six feet apart from the world and the girl with the white tanky looked back and shouted, "Howdy!"

 

The little boy with the oblong head turned to me and stared deep into my eyes with his slanted light brown eyes. What provocation he might have experienced from her shouting, I didn't want to ask. I nodded to him and smiled, but he turned away and sobbed. He was by himself with no one around him. Was he alone? How did he get here in the first place? Where was I? My microcosm looked busy, but I had no knowledge of my environment, only the crowd. What world was this?

 

No one wore a mask, except for one person and he had a uniform of a train ticket attendant with a blue hat. "Where is your ticke? I need to stamp it," he told me, with his palm open. I replied, "I'm not going on a train, I somehow landed here. Where is this place?" The man sighed, "You always need a ticket...everywhere you go. It's the rule." I was flabbergasted and my eyes looked to the left and right, "I didn't know that," I said. The man shook his head and left, "Crazy people," he said.

What on Earth was this dream about?

 

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Comma, Dot, Semi-Colon

Legend told, one mid-day in Calcutta, India, in a small street where the lepers slept and the homeless wept, Mother Teresa came to them to tell stories of mankind.

 

"Mankind is definitely a strange species, all to ourselves," she said.  "On crucial times, although God is watching, we would not acknowledge Him. Thus, committing our greatest sins," she told with such humility, inviting the people to learn from one another.

 

"Do you think man would ever stop, Mother Teresa?" asked a man.

 

"A long time ago, a man thought something very small would help," said Mother Teresa, "this man created a comma (,)."

 

"Did it mean anything to us at the time?" the same man asked the question.

 

"By Jove, it has!" said Mother Teresa, as she was pleased by his response to her story. "A comma, symbolizes a slight rest in our manners of speech." She smiled at him, and opened her right palm. "We seldom pay attention to our own speech and dialects. But, this comma made it so, that we would rest to take note of our words," said Mother Teresa to him.

 

"What does it look like?" Another man shouted.

 

"It is a small brush stroke of an India ink, resembling the crescent moon," said Mother Teresa, as she kneeled towards a water puddle on the street to touch it, and stroked the speck of water to a dry wall to illustrate the crescent moon comma.

 

"That is too simple, madam!" shouted the man, as a protest to such a small example.

 

"It is always the simple things in life, such as: clean air, water, and true love that makes us alive," said Mother Teresa to her lovely friends.

 

"May we learn from you, Mother Teresa?" shouted another man from the crowd of people, listening to her story and wisdom.

 

"Of all things, may we all learn good things from one another," said Mother Teresa. She humbly bowed and smiled at him, as the crowds became larger from the gathering of people.

 

"Thank you, and we love you Mother Teresa!" shouted a man she had helped in the past with support, because he felt someone cared to inform him.

 

"Do you have another story?" asked a young man.

 

"I have not yet finished, my love," said Mother Teresa, as she began to laugh. "This time, I know you would like to see a most simple invention." Mother Teresa daubed a spot onto the dry wall again, and said, "This is a dot (.) or a period."

 

"Is this for another pause?" questioned a young woman.

 

"This is for a full stop, to completely pause between our speech," said Mother Teresa, as she became silent for a moment, to symbolize the complete pause she spoke about.

 

"Is this common knowledge, Mother Teresa?" shouted the young woman.

 

"Is this by the Romans?" everyone asked one another.

 

"Does not matter whether Greeks, nor Romans, we have another most unique invention," Mother Teresa said, but this time there was a long silence that gave her a few moments to think before she spoke.

 

"The Greeks have known this too?" asked a young man, who was thirsty for knowledge.

 

"The latest invention is called "semi-colon (;)," she said, "it is for a minor stop between our speech but for differing ideas or perceptions."

 

This time, she spots the dot on the dry wall, along with the stroke of the crescent moon comma, directly underneath.

 

"How amazing Mother Teresa! Mankind invented the most ingenious ways to learn," said the young man, who was completely amazed by new information.

 

"We are greatly intelligent!" said a young woman, who smiled from ear to ear.

 

"We are still lesser than God, my children," said Mother Teresa, who readied to leave the gathering.

 

"Although I know many of you have been enlightened, I still believe it is still the simple things in life we are to be proud of," said Mother Teresa, as she looked down towards the water puddle on the ground, wishing for simplicity of bare necessities for the people she cared for.

 

The people in the crowd began to weep because they were honored by her presence.  They saw how humble, intelligent, and kind her heart shined amongst them on that day.

 

"Remember how small and simple these inventions are.  Yet, they are strong enough to educate us; to learn from one another," she softly uttered, to a little Indian boy as she tucked his stranded curls away from his face, behind his ear.

 

Mother Teresa continued, "I must go now, there are still so much work to be done," as she walked towards another path.

 

The crowd of people subsided and the people of Calcutta still remembered this story, of how one day Mother Teresa taught the world to enjoy life together while learning from each other at its present moment.

 

The End.

 

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Emergency Signal

Pearsons Rockfield and Giuseppe Baptiste held hands as Karina stepped back from hugging them.

 

"But, you still haven't told us why you chose to abuse your control and power over the people by ending the lives of those families who were important to the world?" asked my Father. "They were helping and you wanted to take their birthrights and sacrifice Karina to have some type of super powers."

 

"It's not a super power, it's favor from God!" said Giuseppe Baptiste. "We needed the extra umph to get God's attention to give us powers and control over the people of the world."

 

Karina, Rambo, my Father and I were baffled, witnessing how they tried to manipulate their words to say the same thing that we meant for them to realize.

 

"Yeah, you hurt the Royals so you can become the top dog," said Rambo. "It's a power thing isn't?"

 

"We wanted to have the best. We wanted to see our people thrive, and the ones we choose to be our people and to succeed," said Pearsons Rockfield. "With the old world, they also had their circles and it was difficult to get there without killing someone."

 

"You should never have to kill anyone, or assault them," said Karina. "I didn't deserve the assaults, but you did that and told your men to do it because you wanted to sacrifice me to gain my soul privilege."

 

"We never had a soul privilege," said Pearsons Rockfield. "I tried to marry twenty times and never gained any privilege from those women. But, with one assault to you, I became a stronger human being, and so did my people."

 

"We are just in love, and we want to be together," said Giuseppe Baptiste, holding hands with Pearsons Rockfield.

 

Karina took her hand and placed it over Pearson's hands, and told him, "You have a soul privilege, you just never believed you had one." Karina kissed him on his forehead, and also on Giuseppe Baptiste's forehead.They looked to Karina as Karina stepped back again, and she said, "I was not Tier 1. I was lower class, even as a Royal and the last of the Ting Dynasty. But, I worked hard, Pearsons and Giuseppe. I believe you were both born into a good surrounding, and being priests, you had the privilege of a divination and respect from the world. There was no reason for the assault.Yu were the privilege ones."

 

Pearsons Rockfield and Giuseppe Baptiste both looked into each other's eyes, and told each other, "We wanted our friends to be happy with us."

 

"I know you wanted control, but other people's families and body and lives are not yours to control or manipulate, Pearsons and Giuseppe," I said.

 

I realized that just like an over powering human being, they wanted to have power and privilege but they weren't skilled to gain the respects of the people by gentle means, so they resorted to violence. Instead of dialogue, education and work, they took the easy route and forced it upon others and destroyed those were against them with brutality and assaults.  It was a medieval ways of the dark periods of human origins through torture, and this habit never died. 

 

"We should change this behaviour," said my Father. "We have to tell the people that you wish for their respect and earn their support the right way. Through voting rights as was done centuries ago. This way, there is a method that won't harm others with violence."

 

"Besides, Dana has a recording of this dialogue between us," said Rambo. He took his wrist phone and showed the hologram that has been on since the beginning of the concert. 

 

"Hi, Giuseppe, I'm down near Laos! It's sunny here, and just vacationing!" laughed Dana. "But, I never anticipated a show like this before! I knew you were in love, but I didn't know you're both lunatics!" Dana kept on laughing and he replayed the video on his computer at a hundred times speed as it showed the violin performance and fast forwarded to the present moment.

 

Pearsons Rockfield and Giuseppe Baptiste gasped as they palmed their cheeks and shrieked. Pearsons Rockfield, who wore a grey robe and red sash, ran to the tree a few yards away and hugged it, as Giuseppe Baptiste kneeled down and wept. 

 

"Pearsons, we have to talk about this!" said Giuseppe Baptiste. Pearsons looked away as he kept holding the tree inside his arms. 

 

"You're both are actually gentle people," said Rambo. "Why did you choose to work with Black Molly and the Choi Militia? They're brutal!"

 

"Oh my God! We were caught on candid camera!" said Pearsons Rockfield. "I'm not happy at all!" Pearsons cried suddenly, and Giuseppe Baptiste closed his eyes and also wept.

 

"What do we do now? These two are cry babies!" asked Karina to me, Rambo and my Father.

 

"They need to confess to the whole world," said my Father. "Confession will give the world a fair chance to understand them."

 

"And, they have to let Boris and Betina claim their rights to be Royals," said Rambo. "And, give you, Karina, your rights back."

 

"You mean....I will become a Royal?" asked Karina.

 

"Your lineage, too," said Rambo. 

 

"And we have to choose the new leader through Democracy," I said. 

 

Pearsons Rockfield and Giuseppe Baptiste both were found laying on the ground, making dirt angels on the Earth.

 

"We're counting on our last seconds as rulers," said Giuseppe Baptiste. "Are you planning on playing those tapes all over the world?"

 

Rambo held up his wrist watch and Dana was still laughing and said, "Well yeah! You didn't think this macaroni and cheese drought didn't hurt anyone did you? Plus, we've all been living in the dark! It's about time the world knows why."

 

"Oh, honey,....I am all out of morse codes," said Giuseppe Baptiste.

 

"It won't work this time, and besides, the Black Mollies and Choi Militia won't be able to save you," said my Father. "The video was raw and real. We can air it right now all over the world through our wrist watches as an emergency signal."

 

Pearsons Rockfield fainted and his head fell back to the ground, and Giuseppe Baptiste gasped once more, and shook him by his side. "You can't leave me!" said Giuseppe Baptiste.

 

"The emergency signal was just sent with the video. It will be in everyone's wrist phones in one second," said my Father. Rambo held his wrist phone and we all saw Dana send the video through a worldwide emergency number.

 

I just received mine, and I played it on.

 

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And I don't stop...

If I stop and think, I'd feel prickles inside my gut and they travel up to my esophagus, all the way to my brain and it stops my receptors. I stare at space and nothing will move inside my body, as my tongue freezes and I will mute for as long as I keep thinking of yesterday. The triggers come in so many forms, without warning and often because I yearn so much. For love, for babies, for cuddles with a handsome bear or being in a home full of children of my own. Often, I feel shame for it, because I should contain my emotions and swear it to secrecy to avoid vulnerability to the outside world. 

 

If I stop and think about what happen with him and feel sad about it, the prickles excites sad memories that somehow my Dad can feel miles away and his eyes moistens as he tells me, "I'm still here, honey. And I love you." I wonder about me as a daughter and as a woman, if I make my parents proud and my siblings happy. Some days, I cry, and cry, and cry, because I feel I could do better. The prickles comes down to my stomach again, and my gut tells me, "you have a long way to go. Just keep going, keep working, keep hoping, and keep praying." That's all I can do, as I take it as it comes.

 

If I stop and rest for too long, my body slumps and the bones in my flesh gravitates to my couch and down goes my energy. It creates a habit that is so difficult to break because it creates a thick wall that stops my running from starting. If I let it be, this lazy bones becomes fragile and old, aging and brittle as my hair greys and silvers, and my face is of a bride with white hair. I become a nightmare and even during Christmas, my spirit will not be in joy.

 

If I keep going, with a bit of a rest, but keeping at it, not letting go, striving for it and knocking at God's door. I enter a realm where those prickles becomes energy and it spreads throughout my body, emerging out of my skin with tiny needles flying out, breaking away stale air. If I don't stop to think so much, I focus on my now and live my present for each moment at a time. I will walk my pace and I don't anticipate the future as I try to work my best. The triggers will always be there and the prickles comes up to haunt me sometimes as I keep moving with a gait on a mission. I stop caring about what Satan says about me and the thoughts of what might be. I will not stop to think, only to rest of a moment, even with a tired body.

 

Giving it my all, one day a time. Just write.

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Christmas promise

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.

 

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