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Bedoor Bluemoon

Everyday writing to expose the soul

The Freezing Lake

Source: Writing Prompt #350

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She floated above the freezing lake waiting for the monster to reveal itself.  The cold air fluttered around her like pigeons.  She sighed, breathing warmth into her cold hands.  A little ripple barely noticed was all that she needed to smile.  He’s come, she thought to herself.

She turned to her right just as the monster’s head gently surfaced.  His blue skin was sleek with water dripping down, his green eyes glittering with the reflection of the mountains around.  Sarah, is it time?  It said in husky voice.

  • yes, my dear.  It is finally time
  • And are you certain that you’ve made the right decision?  Is this the right way forward?
  • Yes, I am certain.  I have thought of this long and hard.  I cannot bear to think what could happen lest I stay.

No answer, the sound of silence was calming.  She looked at the monster whose head was rested on its back and thought of the many days she spent conversing with her friend.  Their friendship was anything but conventional and she will miss it dearly.

  • The road you are taking is dangerous.  There is no way back.
  • I don’t want to come back
  • What if you do?  What if you miss me?
  • You will always be in my heart, Barlac
  • Will you remember me?
  • Always
  • You will be too busy with test after test.  It is not sheltered out there as it is with me
  • I am ready to undergo all the tests that are sent my way

More silence.  A cold wind brushed across Sarah’s face.

  • Are you already packed?
  • Yes
  • Did you pack everything you need?  Did you pack something to eat and something to drink?
  • I only packed my food and water
  • What about your clothes?
  • I don’t need anything more than what I’m wearing
  • It will get too cold

The sun was setting and Sarah felt like it was now or never

  • Barlac?
  • Yes, my dear
  • What will you do without me?
  • I will wait
  • Wait?
  • Yes, I will wait for another girl to stumble upon my lake so as to teach her the secrets of life
  • But life is out there, not in here
  • Is it?
  • Yes.  Everything you taught me cannot be applied in the outside world!
  • Can’t it?
  • Is this good bye?
  • Yes.  Thank you for everything
  • Never forget who you are
  • I won’t.

And with that, Barlac tipped forward onto Sarah’s head in what can only be considered a kiss and quietly descended back into the quietness of the lake.  She stood taking the scenery in for the last time, recalling the days she sat discussing Barlac’s teachings, debating morals and historical events, and uncovering answers for questions she never asked.  It was time to learn and unlearn, time to move on, and time for another chapter in her life.

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You Will Pay

Source: Writing Prompt #348

 

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She somehow finds the last of her energy and launches herself up and at him with the knife.  She could taste the familiar metallic tang in her mouth and knew that her lip was bleeding.  It barely healed before this episode.  It was a daily ritual for him as he enters the house and immediately loses his mind.  It wasn’t anything important or drastic this time.  It was that his dinner was a bit cold.

The reason was never really important or drastic.  The children are still awake.  The lights in the kitchen were on.  Her friend called during dinnertime.  All ridiculous reasons.

But this time, when she felt her head bang on the table again, it was as if something or someone possessed her.  She could feel her eyes swelling and her lip burst open but she didn’t cry again.  This time was different.  She wasn’t afraid.  She didn’t cocoon into a fetal position rocking and crying and begging him to stop.  This time she was angry.

It all boiled within her in seconds.  She saw a flash of everyday of the last ten years: every slap, every punch, every beating.  She saw how she would bow in shame and follow his orders.  She even recalled how she lost her baby a few years.  It all came back to her.  He told her she wouldn’t be spared just because she was pregnant.  She begged for him to have mercy on their child but he just laughed.  A hysterical laugh and said, “do you think that you can get away with your mistakes?” The anger of it all, the horror of her life, the burden she kept all arose in her and exploded.  She exploded.

She pulled herself to the counter and rested her head on its cool surface.  She saw the knife eyeing her and her hand crept towards it, with a life of its own.  She wasn’t her hurt obedient self; she was the woman she always wanted to be.  She turned with the knife clutched between her fingers and madness in her eyes.

You will pay.

Life as a Fraud- Inferiority Complex

Fraud

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They say confidence is key.  Key to what, I wonder as I put on my beige dress.  Here I am getting ready to graduate at the top of my class from a great university and I still wonder how did I get here?  I never thought I was the sharpest tool in the box (is that how the saying goes?) and I never really did so great in school; and yet I got accepted in the state university on a full scholarship.  I remember joking with the counselor who insisted I apply for the scholarship telling me that I was a great student and all universities would love to have me.  I thought he was joking but I got nudged into it by my mom who held the camera as I played the violin.  I missed a few notes but didn’t feel like redoing the whole thing, so I sent in the tape with all the mistakes.

A few months later, I got the acceptance letter and felt ecstatic.  Scared, but happy.  Then my complex kicked in: am I as good as they think I am?  Am I really worth the money they’d be throwing away?

I walked around campus those four years trying to keep to myself most of the time but it was evident that things cannot go unnoticed.  My high grades got me on the honors roll and I was turned into one of the university teaching assistants and library buddy.  I was also playing the violin in university performances and was given awards for “best performance” and “Classical music guru”.  Yet I kept wondering what they see in me.  What can they see that I can’t?

When things go against my will, I understand.  I live in that unknown and thrive in knowing nobody is watching.  Then I excel, and everybody watches… and I start questioning.

Am I a fraud?  Am I an illusionist who has everyone scammed into believing I am made of something that I am not?

Then I look around, and see people who have accomplished less than I have, look half as good as I do, and are less talented but who are booming with confidence.  I choose to keep quiet in seminars, even though I know the answers before anyone raises their hand.  I try to live in the shadows of my doubt, to live behind those who are in their fuschia and turquoise dresses, screaming for attention.  I choose to stay in the shadows where only those who are looking for perfection would find me, could find me.  They would take me out, polish me a bit, and stand in awe at who I am.

And then, as I stand glistening in the sun, I will still wonder if I’m a real diamond… or a fraud.

A Man Of All Men

As I lay my children

down to sleep

and pray the lord

their souls to keep,

outside all mourners

dressed in black

chant and grieve

and cry and weep.

: :

For on these days

so long ago

our faith bestowed

Itself so deep,

a battle and swords

and hearts of gold

fighting to keep religion

alive and complete.

: :

Outnumbered they were

one thousand to one

it wasn’t so easy

in all of the heat,

no water to drink

no mercy at all

from the army that’s filled

with lies and deceit.

: :

A man of all men

pure of heart and descent

approached the enemies with kindness

asking for their retreat,

‘Kill me not,’ he said

I fear for your souls

for you: eternal happiness

paradise so sweet.

: :

Their answer was clear

they all aimed their spears

to child, to nephew

to all the elite,

murdering them all

in one afternoon brawl

assassins of darkness

of bloody conceit.

: :

Thinking with death

they will put out the light

that theirs was a simple

and easy defeat,

what they didn’t know

people will always recall

the story of a man,

his thirst, and the heat.

: :

A man of all men

pure of heart and descent

lived a life of virtue

against those who mistreat,

a man of all men

pure of heart and descent

lives on in our hearts

with a sacrifice so complete.

.

For more info on the battle, click the link: 
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Karbala

Emptiness

Source: Writing Prompt #308

 

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It was just an urge that he’d acted on, he’d punched the window and now he was standing in a pool of shards.  He was looking for any other feeling besides the feeling of emptiness that has consumed him for  years now.  This was not a good day for him; he had better days when he felt like he had some control over his life.  But today was different, today was just black.

He woke up this morning with emptiness around him.  The feeling of grief consuming him even though he didn’t lose any loved one.  The pit of his stomach seemed so heavy, his heart felt burdened, and his breathing stressed.  All these feelings even though he had a good night sleep.  He felt afraid, no, he felt very afraid to get out of bed.  He felt the ground was filled with demons, red hot fire burning around the sanctuary of his bed.  He tried to pull the covers over himself and felt weaker.  His anxiety started and he was soon out breath.  He didn’t know whether to leave his bed and die or stay in and die as well.

It was a bad day.  He pulled himself out of bed and still felt the emptiness and fear.  He felt alone, scared, and lost.  He was floating in the abyss and can see himself walk across the room, hunched down, and sad.  He wanted to shake himself into feeling something, anything, and didn’t know what to do.  He floated down to his body, looked straight into his dark eyes and saw nothing.  He peered down into the shell of his body and saw no soul anymore.  A body consumed by nothingness: no hope, no dreams, no nothing.  He looked and found nothing.

And he walked to the window, thinking that maybe the sunny day would lift his spirits. Huh, what spirit?  There’s nothing there.  It was gone, he was gone.  He hoped the sun would work.  On the way, he turned on the music and played one of his favorite songs so maybe, just maybe, something would flicker in the shadows.  But nothing flickered.  He reached the window and punched… but felt nothing except his depression.

The Lost Boy

(writing prompt #304. https://purpldragon.wordpress.com/2017/09/14/writing-prompt-304/)

Source: Writing Prompt #304
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He watched through the window as his mother tucked his half-sister in bed and kiss his step father goodnight, then he turned and vanished into the night.  It was a daily ritual for Tom since he ran away from his father’s house six months ago.  His father was an alcoholic who, in his opinion, probably didn’t even realize he wasn’t around.  He was living bad days and worse nights when his father would come back from the bar and wake Tom up from his sleep just to start beating him.  One night, Tom decided it was enough, he was going to go live with his mother instead.

His mother always wanted him in her life.  She never gave him up, on the contrary she fought hard to gain custody of Tom but it was all because Tom’s dad knew how to best beat the system that she lost him.  She cried so hard knowing that her ex-husband didn’t really care about Tom, he only wanted to hurt her by taking him away.

That was five years ago.

Tom lived with his dad and was neglected from day one.  He was abused verbally all the time, listening to how he was the reason his parents got a divorce and why it would have been better if he were never born.  He went to school after he made his own breakfast, changed, and packed whatever junk was available at home.  The place was a mess and Tom tried to keep it clean as hard as any eight year old boy can.  He missed his mother.

Running away was the best thing he did.  It wasn’t like he was living in a better place but at least the homeless man had more paternal instincts and started sharing everything with him.  During the day, Tom would try to sell anything to get some money and buy some food to settle his rumbling stomach and share what little he has with the homeless man.

He wanted to go directly to his mother and that’s when his new habit started.  He reached her new home at seven p.m. one night and saw her new family gathered around the dinner table.  He could smell the roasted chicken but something in him stopped him from ringing the doorbell.  He didn’t want to ruin the beautiful picture with his dirty boots and jacket.  From then on, he continued to watch his mother live her life while he lived his.  She never saw him behind the bushes.

One day, Tom fell asleep watching his mother and step dad watching a movie.  He wanted to feel as if he were a part of her life again.  He sat down and watched from afar until his eyelids could no longer stay open.

He woke up the next morning indoors, on a bed, and with mother’s arms around him.  He knew her smell very well and couldn’t believe it.  He turned around and saw her smiling into his face.

“How long have you known that I’m watching?”

“Just last night.  Do you think I’d let you go if I ever found you?”

Scars and Stretch Marks

tattoo

Many people prefer to hide their scars and stretchmarks not keeping in mind that they make us who we are.  We are all born the same: an empty canvas which awaits what life brings upon us and which can be showcased to our grandchildren.  Yes, scars remind us of the times we learned and stretchmarks remind us of the times we grew.

Scars.

Physical scars from childhood reminding us not to take that route,  not to climb that tree, and not to play with those kids.  Physical scars from adulthood reminding us not to take that route (yes, again), not to forget the seat belt, and not to talk to that guy.  Emotional scars from childhood and during adulthood reminding us that best friends may change, boyfriends may cheat, and loved ones may die.  Scars that represent lessons in life, that tell a story of where we have been and where we once longed to be.  Scars tattooed all over our bodies and souls making us human.

Scars that cannot be covered.

And stretchmarks.  Representing the times we changed and grew: gaining weight after high school, losing weight when you realize that weight you gained was a bit too much, growing less confident, growing more confident, pregnancy and motherhood, changing what we believe, changing who we believe, changing who we are.  All those changes are changes to our skin and our minds.  Not accepting to change means that we are made out of stone and are no humans.  Not all change is evident but a simple change makes a big difference in our humanity.

 

I do not wish to hide my scars nor my stretchmarks.  On the contrary, I wish to show everyone all my wounds, to show how alike we are and how human we can be.  I accept the lessons in my life and thank the growth that they brought upon me: work less, love more, and be gentle.

Peace

Magnetic

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You are a magnet to all the beautiful and good things in life.  Love, laughter, joy, money, success, are all being drawn to you.  You are powerful in yourself.  You have in you the power to heal yourself and others all through your mind.

You are powerful.

And I am powerful.

And the person sitting next to you at work is powerful.  And the person sitting in his house halfway across the globe is powerful too.  Every person is given the power to change and alter his universe through the meditation and mindfulness that places him in the now.  Meditation and mindfulness that turns us into magnets for the good that we want and hope for.

Meditation and mindfulness strong enough to gather all the strength of the universe in the center of your being, thereby pulling towards you all goodness found around, and releasing it to others in the form of love.

Loving kindness meditation, a Buddhist tradition, is when a person concentrates on sending love and kindness towards another.  We often find ourselves thinking of loved ones when we are away from them, so knowing that we can send them love is heartwarming.  Knowing that there is love being sent your way is heartwarming too, someone thinking of you and wishing you are well.

So if everyone is a magnet, and everyone can send and receive love, ideally we can get rid of all things bad around.  If love is in the air, literally, thoughts of love flying from one person to another, the world that is filled with hatred and discrimination and war must deteriorate.  If thoughts are our most powerful force, and humans are the most powerful vessel for such a force, we should be able to get rid of darkness through love.

Meditating and mindfulness, thoughts of love, loving kindness meditation, are all arms and tools we shouldn’t ignore when facing wars.

Because what can be more beautiful than forces of love towards a fellow human?

What do you wish for?  World peace.

Dignify our Elders

Dignify

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When you think of old age, you either think of someone else or of a funny meme you saw online of an elder doing something funny or technology related which, in your opinion, is purely cute or basically obscene.  It is never that we think that we, one day, will be old in our age and will have to consider how the younger generation perceives us.

You see, how old you are in your mind varies from one person to the next.  I always saw myself as a late teenager/early twenties person.  My sister always perceived herself as she were, and a friend of mine saw herself as an older person.  (In Your Mind, How Old Are You?)

It is not a joke when you start having grey hair.  Thank you, mom, for the great genes (yaay).  It is also not a joke when you get diagnosed with high blood pressure, kidney stones, diabetes, heart conditions, and all the fun stuff that are pointing towards the way life is flying by.  This is not a post to make you seize the moment, by all means, carpedium all day.  This is a post for you to consider those elders in your lives and what they feel.

Their bodies are not as strong as they used to be.  Imagine how that would make you feel?  They can’t see as well, start losing a bit of hearing, and some start forgetting words.

No.  It’s not very dignified.

And we come in, all young and stupid acting like we know best.  Some have lived through wars, seen how life changes, lost loved ones and families, and yet we come in, all young and stupid acting like we know best.  Acting like our limited knowledge of how smart phones work gives us the power to know.

No.

It doesn’t.

Just because they ask us how to download their emails or they believe everything they see on social media doesn’t make them any less.  It makes them more.

They are pure in heart, pure in soul.  Lived longer and seen more.  Wiser, warmer, and much better than we ever will be.  And we will only know their worth when they are gone.

God bless our loved elders who still have patience in all our foolishness and childishness.

Dignify your elders and you will be dignified.

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