I Wish…

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I wish that we remembered that our lives are ours.

We can make any choice at any time.

You could hug a stranger,

confess your love to your best friend,

eat an extra candy bar,

dance in the street,

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learn to juggle,

ask for a stranger to tell you their story

call an old friend you haven’t talked to in a while,

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bake yourself three dozen cookies and eat them all,

read your favorite book for the hundredth time,

drive until you run out of gas,

watch a sunset,

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go sightseeing,

run,

try scuba diving,

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plant a garden.

Your life is yours.

You decide how it goes and when it ends.

We do not have to be stuck at a desk until we’re an adult and then in a job that makes us miserable until we die.

As for me, I would rather be a homeless woman with stories to tell and a smile on my face and a world I can truly appreciate than be a person who walks home from the office miserably, the same way as every day, just to sit in an empty home, full of depressed memories and broken dreams.

Remember,

Live.

Love.

Laugh.

Learn.

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Breath.

Do what makes you happy.

You choose your life.

You choose.

You.

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A Watery Grave – Sort Of.

“Am I dead.” It was more of a statement than a question, since I didn’t expect an answer. But one came anyways, surrounding me.

“Only a little.”

I turned, tying to see through the darkness, trying to find the source of the voice.

“Who’s are you? What do you mean, only a little dead?” Two small lights had appeared, glowing bluish green.

“I am Amy. I will be your guide.”

I gasped as the light spread, and I realized it was coming from the creature speaking to me. I could see tentacles, fins and a long tail, but they all seemed connected to one human like figure.

A mermaid?

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Original Art by Me, Outlawed Princess.

“Woaahh…” I reached out a hand automatically, intrigued. The mermaid – Amy? – grasped my wrist, pulling me with her.

“Okay, what is happening right now? I thought I drowned I-” Suddenly I realized that I couldn’t breath. I reached up, clawing at my throat, wanting air, but there were strange lumps already there, allowing oxygen into my system. Gills?

“You did drown, but we caught you.” Amy turned around a coral reef, the light emanating from her illuminating fish and crustaceans around it. My eyes seemed foggy, and it was hard to see still

“Who is we?”

A shark, small but still scary, swam past us peacefully. Amy reached out webbed fingers and stroked it.

“We are the merfolk, as you may have guessed. We collect the drowned and lost at sea and turn them, creating a new race, a more powerful underwater being. You are our newest recruit.” She grinned at me, but her fangs didn’t do much to comfort me.

“What if I don’t want to be recruited?”

“You don’t really have much of a choice, we claimed you.”

Before I could say anything more, Amy dove even deeper, bubbles swarming around us, mixing with fish and plants.

Seaweed caught at my leg and I panicked for a moment, thinking I was going to drown before realizing I already had. Amy swiped at it with a sharp shell that had been lying nearby and we continued on our way.

Ahead of us rose a great gate, adorned with pearls but slightly green from algae. Amy leaned up towards its great lock, whispered ‘Sea Nettle’ and pushed her way in.

All of a sudden we were in an underground city, merfolk all around, but they didn’t all look the same. Each had different colors, lengths of fins, shapes of faces, size of body. They were each their own person, and their clothes reflected it.

Although amy wore a simple wrap, many wore full shirts or robes. I even saw one red, plump mermaid pass wearing a full ball gown, tangling around her octopus legs.

Amy waved at some, and some called back. Everyone was smiling and cheerful, each person had a destination.

One merman approached us, talking to Amy about how ‘swamped’ they were at the office. The two laughed and talked for a minute before Amy excused us and we dodged a cart full of odd looking fruit, heading towards what seemed to be the heart of the city.

Vehicles were being used now, chariots pulled by dolphins mostly, although a few seemed to have engines of their own.

We swam quickly towards a huge pearly palace in front of us.

Amy paused to turn, emphasizing the grandeur with her webbed fingers, “This is Pearl Palace.”

“No kidding.” I grinned, the odd little water bubbles tickling my teeth and tongue.

On we went and soon we floated up a large marble staircase. I noticed that, although the entire city was beautiful, it was also crumbling and (of course) waterworn.

“The Instructors will tell you more.” Amy left me in front of an iron door that really did not look all that inviting.

Before I could do much more than consider jumping out the window down the hall and making a swim for it, the door opened and two scarily buff mermen wiggled out, massive spears in hand. Behind them a woman came, trident in hand, looking more like an octopus than the stereotypical mermaid.

“You may call me Madam, Your Loveliness, or you may stay silent. Follow.” Back into the room she went and her bodyguards pushed me forwards after her.

“Um, Ma’am? Where and what and how and all those other questions…” She glared over her shoulder and I fell silent.

The room we had entered was not inviting either, although it was definitely cleaner than anywhere else I had been. Mirrors lined the walls, and two chairs sat carefully in opposite corners. I was told to sit, so I did, and then one of the guards held me still while the other stuck a needle in my arm.

“Ow! What was that for?” ‘Madam’ just stared, her yellow eyes creepily watching every inch of my struggling self.

“This is an anesthesia. That way you won’t feel the excruciating pain that awaits you. Or, you won’t feel as much of it. Enjoy.” She got up and left, and I was alone, and darkness crept in and I slept.

All I can remember for the next year are various medical personnel, drugs, aching, pain, burning sensations, and, as promised, just over all excruciating pain.

When I finally gained full consciousness I was in a small hut made of woven seaweed, laying on a cozy bed with sea urchins of many colors coating the floors and starfish above me on a clam ceiling.

I tried swinging my legs over the edge of the bed to sit up, but I didn’t have legs to swing. Instead I had fins, big and purple and gold. I was dressed only in a hospital gown, trapped uncomfortably around my wide hips.

I pulled the wet dress off over my head and realized how scaly my skin was. There were pinkish spots all over me, darker in some places, so that when I moved it looked like a bright pink light was changing back and forth on my arms and stomach and tail.

How had I gotten here? I could remember procedures and I remember Amy and drowning, but I couldn’t remember why I’d drowned in the first place.

This was all rather strange.

TO BE CONTINUED>>>>>

 

 

 

 

 

Red Queen – 4/28/2017

You treat me like
Something
I never want to see
You kick and fight and scream
So don’t expect me
To bow down and call you Queen

You are so cruel to me
And everyone you see
Just don’t expect us to
Bow down to
Your Majesty.

But suddenly you’re kind
You blow a kiss and say
“I love you, sweetie”
Well that is new to me
I thought you were like the
Red Queen

You switch back and forth
A bipolar Ruler
You say that you will change
But I can see

You’re like the Red Queen
The way you treat me
You tell us to see
From your point of view
Well, I’ve tried to see
What gives you the right to be
So awful to us all
Your Majesty

Have a nice life but
Don’t expect me to
Hang around and bow to you
You’re like the Red Queen
Like the Red Queen

Drowning – 4/28/2017

Im trying to breathe
But I’m still drowning
I’m drowning
You said that you loved me
But then you sailed away
And I’m still drowning
I’m drowning

How can you be this way?
How can you say these things
That you would love me
Forever and ever
You left me alone
In the open waves
You told me to hang on
And then you sailed away

The sea seemed sweet at first
Blue green wide open turf
The seaweed tangled me
And now I’m drowning
I begged for you to help
You smiled and said you would
Always be there for me
So why am I still drowning?

The movies seemed to warn
That this could happen
Others told us to take it slow
But you had this smile and laugh
You said that you would catch
Me if I ever fell
But we had no plan
For one of us drowning

So I’ll fight for myself
Swim harder against this current
Trying to drag me down
I miss you and it hurts
But I must breathe
I cannot drown

What We’ve Been Left – 4/29/2017

Mechanical movements, broken spirits.
We’re taught to follow the rules,
But we’re never taught to think.

When we were younger they warned us
About manipulators,
But they never told us
That we’d have no voice to scream.

We thought the future would be great!
We woke up every day excited to be alive.
It wasn’t until they told us off for asking questions,
That we wondered why
We even tried.

A world in which we can only follow others,
Never allowed to write the lyrics to our own song,
This is what we live in, trapped every single day.
This is what we’ve been given, this is now our fate.

If you find a solution, an answer to our pain,
Please tell me so that someday,
We can truly live again.

The Promise That You’ve Broken – 4/28/2017

You made a promise to a family
That you could never keep
You told your daughter you loved her
That she was the whole world to you
You swore you’d never leave her
So why did you

You said you loved her mother
And all her sisters too
You said you cared about them
But you only cared for you
I’m sorry we were never enough
To be your happily ever after

I hope someday that we both find love
And are friends still after

There was a wife and children
Sitting home alone
You distracted yourself from what
You pretended to love most
And now we’ve all given up
And gone our separate ways

I hope someday we both find love
And finally understand each other

So when you’re with your new family
The ones you now love
Please remember your little daughter
The one crying in the dust
You said you’d never leave her
You swore to keep her safe
Well that’s just a broken promise now
Now that you’ve gone away

And I hope someday we both find love
Because, Daddy, I’ll always be
Your little girl
Waiting
With your broken promise

The Disaster That Is My Life, Part Two of Many

I sighed, and scraped the last little bit of purple from under my fingernails. Shame about that modeling job, really.

Benedict Cumberbatch’s fabulous voice played in the background over the microwave’s ding.

“Awww yisss my lasagna!” I rubbed my hands against my jeans to dry them and rushed to the counter. “Mmmm..” I inhaled that warm, fresh, red smell, and then almost cried because gosh dang that dish is hot.

Mori whined at my feet. I glanced down, his big mismatched eyes staring deep into my soul, begging with all his precious heart just to try my pasta.

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(Author’s Note: This is, in fact, my puppy Moriarty Arthur. He is nearly six months old, half Australian Shepherd, half Catahoula. You will probably see a lot more of him from now on. Thanks for reading!)

“Hang on, sweetie.” I grabbed a couple hot pads from the drawer at my hip and placed the lasagna carefully on my little table. “Alright boy, Sit!” Mori sat obediently on his cute lil butt, and I gave him a small chunk of meat from off my plate.

That smile is worth anything in the world.

Hedwig’s theme from Harry Potter started playing over the sounds of Sherlock, and I picked up my cell. “‘Sup?”

Tika’s voice came screaming – literally, screaming – through the receiver.

I took a bite of my food, drank some water to cool off my tongue, and then responded once she had quieted. “Tika, you know I can’t understand a word you’re saying, right?” If she even was speaking real words, sometimes I’m not sure.

“AAAA Did you hear about Kya and Bear?!?” She yelled back.

My interest peaked, “What? No, I didn’t hear anything. What’s up?”

“He proposed! Bear proposed!” We screamed together like excited girls tend to, and chatted for a few minutes more.

“Hey, any ideas for my next chapter?” I questioned, hoping that my best friend would have some ideas for me, especially since she was practically co-author of, like, 90% of my life already.

“Of your book? No idea. Maybe something with romance?” Tika suggested.

“Not really my thing. I mean, it’s nice and all, but there are so much more intriguing topics to discuss!” I retorted. “Things like science and art and cute little animals and orphans from, I dunno, Bulgaria or something…”

She laughed, “Alright, alright. Nerd. Just write whatever and make it sound nice, use lots of big words too. I have to go, Slink is trying to escape down the hall.”

We said our goodbyes and she hung up, hurrying after her crazed ferret. Glancing down, I see my own psychotic mammal still staring up with hope in his eyes. “You are so spoiled, y’know.” I drop down some more of my dinner for him to enjoy.

I stretch, and then decide to do some nice yoga before bed. “C’mon boy, let’s get our workout music on! ‘Cause this is totally a workout!”

I decide to do the Kapotasana pose, which I learned when I was around fifteen, and it’s still great for popping my back and sternum into place. It looks like this:

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Next I reversed it with Child and Sun Salutation poses, to make sure I kept my spine straight. Moriarty rolled around next to me with a bone, and tried to lick my face.

After fully stretching out all the kinks – especially the ones in my neck and shoulders from conking out in Sara’s cafe earlier – Mori and I headed to bed.

He pulled his blankie up onto the bed and dropped it on my lap so I could wrap him in it.

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We snuggled close and slowly dozed off.

I was back in that garden, the silent and still one with no life. I didn’t want to leave right away this time, I would rather explore first. I moved carefully, trying to stay grounded. Still there was no breeze or temperature fluctuation.

One rose stood out in particular, big and orangey. I plucked it, the stem snapping crisply. No smell. That was odd too, usually I dream in all five senses, why couldn’t I feel or smell or hear anything in this garden?

Could I taste? Putting the rose petals against my tongue was probably not sanitary, nor did it yield positive results.

What it did do was suck me into its ruffly orange-red bud, and then I was standing on the edge of a cliff on the coast, the sunset the exact same color as the rose. This time my senses were back, I could smell the saltwater sharp in my breath, the wind was blowing, tearing the rose’s petals away into the wind and over the sea. Waves crashed and people noisily moved about below, the last few visitors trickling away across the golden sand.

At first the sight was perfect. Beautiful, calming, incredibly peaceful. Loud and great and strong and kind. But gravity and wind yanked, rocks began to slide, and then I was falling, slowly, unable to scream, air trapped in my lungs.

Trying to cry but frozen, I moved slower and slower rather than faster and faster as I had expected. It was like moving through Jell-O, slow and uncomfortable and claustrophobic.

Why did I have to think of Jell-O? Now I was trapped far out in the ocean, but the water was thick and gelatinous and I was drowning, slowly, so slowly…

Seaweed began tangling around my ankles, tugging me down. I took my last gasp of breath and my head went under. I could still see clearly, perhaps even more clearly than I could in real life, and I realized it wasn’t just seaweed grabbing my feet, but a red demon was below, his large grin terrifying against the surprisingly calm water around us.

Air bubble burst from my throat as I wasted my last bit of air to whisper, “El Diablo…” #WORTHIT

Satan smiled even wider, which didn’t seem possible, and replied calmly “Mayonnaise.”

My confusion only lasted a few moments before his black eyes swirled and dragged me in, dropping me with a thud on my bedroom floor.

Moriarty barked in my ear and began kissing my face. I struggled to free myself from the tangled blankets wrapped around my limbs.

“Gajhhahh,” I spit out some hair that was tickling my lips.

Mori flopped over and showed me his teeth with a big smile.

“You look like The Joker.” I pushed myself up and pulled my alarm clock off my bedside table back towards me.

“UGHhhh I’ve only been asleep for, like, four hours.” Sadly, I crawled back onto my mattress and patted next to me for Mori to hop up. He did, and fell asleep almost instantaneously.

I, however, lay in bed wondering if I should write this all down in my dream journal and have my Yoga Instructor, Keirsha, explain what she thinks it could mean. But that would require movement, and I honestly don’t care that much about journals. Or dreams.

So I let myself pass out again, and fortunately this time I simply drifted off into a more normal dreamland.

To Be Continued At A Later Point In Time, Thank You For Reading!

The Disaster That Is My Life, Part One of Many. 

“Why are your hands purple?” 

“That, my friend, is a very good question.” I glance down at my fingers, which are purple enough to make an old Roman ruler envious.

Looking back up I can see her exasperated expression. “We hired you as a hand model for this ad, not as a smurf.” Shaking her head she shoos me towards the door.

“Smurfs are blue…not purple,” she is unimpressed by my vast knowledge, as am I, but it’s the only  thing my brain is offering me as a response, other then “Wait, I can wash it or-” The door is slammed in my face. 

Well, that went about as well as could be expected…

I wander around office cubicles filled with ringing phones and chattering voices and out onto the street. I guess I’ll just head back to my favorite cafe, Au Bon Pain, and work some more on my book. 

The ringing of the little bell on the big green door is familiar and welcoming, and Sara looks up, smiling as usual, and follows me towards a window booth. 

“Alright sweetie, what can I get for ya?” She holds a pen gracefully poised above her notepad for orders. 

I sigh, “How about an idea for this chapter? I’m stuck at a writing block again.” I pull my laptop from my backpack and open up the sloppy web page of my scrambled thoughts that I am trying to turn into an actual story. 

Sara shakes her head sympathetically. “Ah sugar, you’re the great writer, not me. I just fuel the enthusiasm with cupcakes.” 

“Thanks. Hey, speaking of which, you have any of those chocolate chunk things in?” I question hopefully. 

I’m in luck, they’ve got a plate just behind the counter. Sara scurries off and I avoid my work more by watching the cars passing outside. 

A few minutes later, cupcake in hand and napkin on lap, I still haven’t started even one line of this chapter. A little while after that, my head is on the table and I’ve begun hallucinating wildly as we humans often do.

In my dream, I am walking along a bridge in a rose garden. There are flowers and trees and lush green grass, with clear rippling blue water below, and puffy white clouds above. But something still seems off. 

Me being the procrastinator I am, I postpone my worry as well as I can, and try simply admiring the beauty around me.

But anxiety doesn’t work that way and soon I am uncomfortably glancing about, wondering why there is no one else here. No visitors, no owners or gardeners, no animals, no birds or even a bug in sight. There wasn’t wind either and the temperature of the air was exactly he same as my own. 

“Something is not right.” I state the obvious, to myself, alone, in an empty garden. 

And this is why I’m single.

Humming to fill the eerie silence, I begin spinning wildly through the trees, until I fall down, down, downnnnnnn and then I’m right side up again in a castle, gown twisting around my ankles, I’m dancing with a stranger. 

The manager from the advertising company I’d been turned down for earlier was stamping her foot along to the music, but when our eyes met she frowned, and lifted her hands. They were vibrantly purple. People began gasping, and waving around their extremities, all of which were slowly becoming more and more blue, then purple, then pink and red…

I turn to run away, and start floating instead, looking up into the chandelier above me, struggling to get down, and into the bright yellow light I go, trapped in the candles flame, and I’m in a burning room, fire and smoke all around me, the blackness darker than my broken soul. 

Coughing, I try to stand but slip on a dark wet substance, landing on my face. Was it blood? It was sticky and disturbing, but no, it was more like…

Chocolate cupcake was mushed into my cheek, my eyes opening slowly and painfully. How long had I been out? Why hadn’t Sara woken me up?

I sit up and flail my arm out, trying to shake the tingling from my limbs. 

“Ouch!” Some dude walking next to me yelped, and then gasped when he saw my bleary, half-awake face. “I’m fine,” he stammered and stumbled away.

I groan and lay my head back down, once again on top of my cupcake. 

“Oh sugar, what did you do? I go out for my lunch break and you make a mess of yourself… ” Sara helped me wipe off my face and brushed crumbs off my laptop. “Honestly child, how do you survive living on your own?” 

Out on the street it’s begun to rain, and I decide to give up on the rest of this Saturday. I’ll just go home and watch Sherlock on Netflix until my eyes bleed. 

To Be Continued At A Later Point In Time When I Am Less Tired Hopefully.

NOODLE FRIEND’S HAIR COLOR

ONCE UPON A TIME

NOODLE FRIEND HAD A REALIZATION.

HIS HAIR HAD BEEN DYED FOR AS LONG AS HE COULD POSSIBLY REMEMBER, AND EVERY PICTURE HIS MOMMA HAD FROM WHEN HE WAS YOUNGER HE HAD SOME KIND OF COLOR IN HIS LOCKS, SOMETIMES MANY AT ONCE.

NOODLE DIDN’T KNOW WHAT HIS NATURAL HAIR COLOR TRULY WAS.

AND SO ONE DAY, AFTER A LOVELY WALK (SEE BELOW) HE DECIDED TO CALL HIS MOMMA FOR MORE INFORMATION.

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“MOMMA I NEED ANSWERS.” Noodle shouted over the phone.

His Momma was used to calls like these from her lil Noodle, so she responded calmly. “Yes, Lil Noodle, what is it now?”

“WHAT COLOR WAS MY HAIR WHEN I WAS BORN? I WISH TO DYE IT THAT JUST TO SEE HOW I’D LOOK NOW.” The Noodle excitedly yelled.

“Why sweetie I’m not sure… hang on dearest.” The line went dead as Momma began to search for pictures of her lil man. “Why here’s one! I’ll send it right over.”

As Momma was not all that great with technology, she mailed it the old fashioned way, you know, through the mail. With paper and a stamp and her saliva keeping the envelope together. Remember those days?

Well anyways, it was a while before Momma’s letter arrived, and Noodle waited (kind of) patiently the whole time.

And then he tore open the paper, dropping pieces on the floor. Yanked out a folded picture and flattened the creases gently in his hand. NOODLEFRIENDISABABY

Purple. His hair was purple.

So great was his elation he called his sister with the good news.

“Why Noodle that’s wonderful! But also strange..” Sister went on to explain that she remembered the day that Noodle’s baby photos had been taken, and in the copy she had received he had Green hair, not Purple.

They ended their conversation wishing each other well, and Noodle looked once more at the pacified baby in his hand.

He went back to FaceBook and called every family member he knew. Noodle doesn’t have many cousins, so when he was born everyone was just so excited that each person wanted a picture to stick on their fridges. Many of the sentimental kinds still had their photos of Baby Noodle, and each one said he had different colored hair!

Orange like a sunset, White like an old man’s, Pink like a rose, Blue like the sea, Brown as the wings of eagles, Yellow as his skin, Gray as a tombstone, Black as ink, Red as muscle, on and on their vivid descriptions went, each different from the last.

Noodle was very very very very very very very very VERY confused.

“MOMMA WHAT IS THIS? NO ONE THINKS I HAVE THE SAME COLOR OF HAIR!” Noodle bawled. “HOW WILL I EVER BE ABLE TO DYE IT BACK TO NORMAL IF I DON’T KNOW WHAT NORMAL IS?”

“Now, now, sweetie pie. Let me just think for a momen- OH SWEET HONEY ICED TEA! Now I remember! You were born with hair like the rainbow, and it seemed to change with the wind’s breeze. When we had your first hair cut the week after you were born, we decided to get it dyed that nice purple, since purple is across the color wheel from yellow so it would contrast nicely with you- nevermind.” Momma sighed, “Point is, every color you’ve EVER had your hair is your natural color already.”

Noodle was silent for a bit, processing this fantastic news.

And then he rushed to Mr. Scissors, begging for a certain style. Scissors explained that he needed to finish his other clients hair first, so Noodle helpfully gave him a buzz cut, pushed him out the door and sat in Mr. Scissors chair.

After a moment of stunned silence, Mr. Scissors began working on Noodle’s luscious mane of hair sprouting from his yellow, egg-shaped body.

The end result was indeed spectacular.

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I HOPE THIS MAKES YOUR DAY BETTER. LOVE YOU ALL!

NOODLE OUT!