The Kinnefull Garden Series:
Chapter III: Creating the Sun of the Garden... Lightkinne
Cynne worried about her trees: wondered if it was getting enough water and sunlight. Then it hit her, " Kinne, we need a source of warmth like the sun to help my trees grow!" Kinne thought about it for a long while till she came up with the answer: She would use Cynne's warmth, generosity, and her light to create "The Light of Kinne, or Lightkinne"- the Sun of Kinnefull Gardens.
As long as Cynne's kindness was in tact, Lightkinne's brightness was warm and radiant. It shown brilliantly in the light blue sky. Giving Cynnedie's trees the light they needed in order to grow. Lightkinne, when stared at, looked like it had little fairies made from light dancing within the brightness. Kinne explained to Cynne that when the sun is happy it will dance and move to a certain happy rhythm. The fluxuations were sending out good energy vibrations helping the plants, water, and their counterparts remember what it means to be in a good mood.
Halfway understanding Cynne nodded in agreement. Kinne further explained, "It is very important that you try to be as kind, warm, and generous as you can be Cynnedie. No matter what the outside world throws at you: Always try your best to remain calm. This garden is relying on your balanced emotions in order to grow into the world that you will one day watch over."
"Kinne, even though I'm a princess the other kids ignore me, bully me, and do cruel things to me. I do not know when that will happen to me or if it does happen I cannot guarantee what my emotions will be like!!! That isn't fair Kinne!!!"
"You are right Cynnedie. It isn't fair. But now that you and I are together you have to understand that life will not be the same anymore. As a princess, you have inherited me as your birthright. With the acceptance of me you took responsibility of me, for this garden, and most importantly, you took responsibility for keeping your emotions in check. Most people do not have what they call 'Emotional Intelligence' Cynnedie, nor understand just how much their feelings influence their body. This is a test for you to see how well you can manage your 'feelings' without going into critical and destroying myself and the garden that you are building within your heart. Be strong and you will get through this Cynne... it will not be easy but you will learn what is required of you to become the 'Woman who tends this garden'."
Shaken to the core Cynne did her best to focus on the task at hand: Try to control her emotions. The woman who tends the garden??? What was that suppose to mean? Then she asked the only question that perhaps she shouldn't have, "Kinne. What will happen if I cannot control the emotions that are tied in with the Lightkinne?"
For the first time Kinne was silent. Thinking long and hard about what kind of answer to give her without scaring Cynnedie too much. This put Kinne in a precarious situation: As much as she wanted to tell her the truth, Kinne couldn't due to her immature emotions. She frankly wasn't ready to hear that kind of truth without making her emotions go out of whack.
For every good emotion that Kinne pulls from within Cynnedie there is also an opposite emotion that will happen when she is not in a good mood. It is this opposition that keeps the garden from either being all good or all bad. When Cynnedie happens to be feeling the opposite of what was intended to feel the garden takes on a more hostile, dangerous and darker feel to it. The garden itself becomes a destructive force of nature and depending on what emotions Cynne feels, can wipe out anything within her heart- including her memories that Kinne works so hard to keep.
If something were to happen to cause her good hearted nature to go mean and selfish, Lightkinne becomes the harbinger, or bringer of scorching hot fire- "Firewrathkinne" burning down all that resides within the garden. Sometimes there is the associated hot day or days but nothing like the "Sky of Firewrath" where everything was burnt as if a devastating fire rampaged through the garden mixed with a hot burning rain that took a major recreation on both Cynnedie and Kinne to make anew again.
"If you cannot control your emotions Cynne then I will cease to be..."
I have none. I'd rather be a riddle than a novel. My life is a giant plot hole, anyways. I want to be analyzed, not narrated. I want to be loved like one loves a piece of kitsch art, a silver rabbit or a cheap snowglobe. I mean a lot in how little I am.
I guess my history or herstory or theirstory could start years ago, when I first got taught about art. I viewed it with a bit of bitterness, and our teacher did the same. I hated art class while I grew up. Why would anyone, I thought, devote their time creativity?. Now I know why.
You can't make a career having sparks on your head. You have to give people those sparks. You have to channel them. You have to teach.
That's why I'm teaching you my "story," which begun in a cramped up classroom with a bitter teacher.
The Hours We Always Miss
You are walking with your loved one down an old wooden bridge in the middle of forestry, carrying an innertube and sunscreen. You aren't really sure where you are, or what's going on, everything is a big happy blur. Your loved one is wearing those sexy shades, the ones with the white rim on the edges. Suddenly, you don't know how you got there, but you are jumping into a pond. You close your eyes, and dive right in.
You open up your eyes and see blackness. What just happened? Maybe you're still underwater. You wait a moment, then realize you are oddly warm and snuggled. Looking to your shoulder you see the green lights of your alarm clock, 2:31, huh. Your thought process is slowly coming in, like a hole in the sand, slowly filled by ocean current. The first thought coming to your mind is yesterday. Such an amazing day. That reminds you, tomorrow is supposed to be better. You remark how silent it is, like the world has shut up for a moment. You analyze every detail of tomorrow, planning what you'll do, what to wear, how to act.
You think and think and suddenly you are in pitch blackness again. You open your eyes and you're just coming out of the water. You see that loved one laughing. You still have no clue what's going on. You just go with it, following the blur of the world surrounding you.
Suddenly you hear ringing, a constant beep. It interrupts everything, confusing the hell out of you. You must stop that noise. Opening your eyes you instinctually slap something over your shoulder. You don't know why, it just felt right. Looking over you realize it's your alarm clock, which is now silent. You hear laughter, realizing it's the neighbor's kids outside. You're unaware why, but today feels like an amazing day, and you somehow know everything you're going to do. You get up and look for specific clothes. You don't know why, it just feels right. Once you're dressed you leave your room, forgetful that you've started you day 6 hours ago.
Happy for now
1. Open windows
2. Cuban coffee, half & half, sugar
3. Blue sunny skies
4. Beards and crooked teeth
5. Netflix
6. First encounters
7. Sexual tension
8. Anticipated first kisses
9. Homemade meals
10. Things that vibrate
11. Ferris wheels
12. Thrift stores
13. Packed bowl
14. Found objects
15. Noise
16. Silence
17. Quenching a thirst
18. Cheap gas on road adventures
19. Hiking in the mountains
20. Catching up with an old friend
21. Cigarette breaks
22. Skinny dipping
23. Killer mixes
24. Stars
25. Long hugs
Anxiety
A trio of thieves
Slinking and crawling in the dark
They are in every day of my life
Sneering their venomous lies
The first is a brute
A hulking, massive mountain
Shouts his words of hate and hurt
Beady eyes full of my stupidity
The second is a small weasly thing
Wrapped around my stomach
He squeezes tight when I talk
Crowds are no longer and option
Their leader is my doppelgänger,
A pitch black silhouette
She laughs and sneers, claws sharp
As she rakes them over my body
"Look at this round stomach!"
"Look at the scars on your arms!"
"Look at your tired face!"
"DO SEE ALL YOUR FLAWS?"
And how can't I?
When I'm destroying myself
From the inside
Out
Pint Of Hope
Joy in the eyes of a blind man
Is like facing black canvasses
Though he couldn't really run far
But his heart knows real faces
He creates a world for him self
And fails at times when he does it
His body, mind and soul are kept
Simple smile on his lips will fit
Don’t blame him for what he can do
Sitting all day long on his ramp
He is escaping from his foe
Whispering wishes near a lamp
His mind’s filled with colorful dreams
No one can think of his real name
Insanity draws close, it seems
Nothing’s wrong with him being lame
Think of it that he’s more sincere
He tells no lies behind what’s truth
He may not be a perfect ‘sir’
But he’s more mature wearing suit
