Thanks to Dylan of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie‘a First Line Friday Prompt. The first line from last Friday was: “I’m going to tell you how I lost my inheritance.” For NaPoWriMo the prompt is to write a nocturne which is a poem/song about the night. For A to Z Challenge, today’s letter is O for a GoodRead’s quote.
“You don’t have to be dead to leave a legacy. — Onyi Anyado”
I’m going to tell how I lost my inheritance, how my legacy rides in tides as the full moon rises,
How the night stole my humanity and hammered my soul a blow.
The dusk covered the light, liquid tar blanket bestowed,
The sun hid himself away, way down in western wilds of woe.
A sinking feeling settled in and a certain chorus began to ring,
A range of notes, a rising crescendo of riveting lyrical prose.
A poet’s words possessing her, when she knows full well,
The powerful pull of the midnight hour.
And the pressing provocative lure as the moon glows,
A white orb that won’t warble, a strong luminious light,
Residing over all as every full moon does.
To be host over the howling wolves, the healthy youths as they prowl,
The dark delights of the night distend into the dimest parts of every soul.
A choir of banshees brazenly taking souls salaciously, the maids from their beds,
The hour of the demons drawing back to their victims with wet bloody lips;
The incubus raging and awaking the wild within their prey.
And all is a lure, an image not clear, all this is imagined,
All this is frightening, foretold in nightmares.
The affected awake in the morning from the pleasure and pain,
From satisfied appetites, appalling in the dank aptitudes of night.
Night swells and swallows herprey wholly, partaking and doping with her starry glow,
Inviting the worst from the wise, even ill from the innocent.
Yet a moral being cannot mean to say, night has had her way and ‘I’ had no say;
It’s easy to give in with ease, to isolate one’s self to enthralling entertainments, inscribed darkly now on souls.
And what’s done in the night when the moon is full and fat, cannot be told for it stays hidden on those nights, when the wildest ones escape.
The vampires and the wolves, the creatures we know not of, and humans do not stay humble ether — they choose to fly with the fallen.
A nocturne of night will tell you what power presumes to hide beneath an inky black veil,
It’s not pure evil, it’s the usual kind, who chooses to dance with the devil, and forget their choices their choosing for charm and wine.
For tequila and vodka, for him and her, and whisky burning down your throat as the howls of the night combine with a loss of memory;
And we all awake mid-afternoon, no one knowing the peculiarities of such a night, a full out frightening moon.
Only a feeling, a shiver, a prayer, as the moon fades from brilliance, she is trapped, unwillingingly held as she wanes us back into morality.
The light of the sun salutes from the east and all is forgiven in harmony and health, angelic nebulas, skys of blue birds, and Bambi deers galloping.
Woe is the wicked night on the full moon, but how much greater is the morn after malevolence is perpetually destroyed,
Yet oh, how we miss the fun of bliss in the dark — no thoughts, no reason, just acceptance to absorb the pleasures of night’s nocturnal nightmares.
Thanks to Oloriel of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s prompt. First we are to go to Wikipedia and go to the ‘Random Article’ Button, his is our title. Second we are to HERE and find a randomly generated picture.
Ring the bells ring them, sound organ pipes too,
Atlantis sinks to obscurity.
Earth trembles, calls with a tune sung,
Ring the bells; last time you’ll hear them out loud.
“I know that’s what people say– you’ll get over it. I’d say it, too. But I know it’s not true. Oh, you’ll be happy again, never fear. But you won’t forget. Every time you fall in love it will be because something in the man reminds you of him.”
Maryanne frequently found herself on the Greyhound bus travelling here, there, and everywhere. She didn’t understand what triggered the travelling gypsy in her, but she felt when she found what she was searching for, she would finally have a place of her own. She would find a decent job, have a car to drive, and most of all, have people to love in her life.
As if on que, a stray dog yipped and walked out of the alleyway nearby. While she waited an-hour-and-a-half for the bus to Raleigh, Maryanne decided the dog was indeed homeless and picked her up gently. She brought the startled mut on the bus pulling into the station and named her Betsy.
She was Maryanne’s first step towards finding a home.
Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for Friday’s music prompt, “I Don’t Want To Talk About It” by Rod Stewart. The song is loosely used in part three. Warning Part Three contains Adult Content.
“I Don’t Want To Talk About It” – Rod Stewart
Tallia drove back to Fairy Dust as fast as her Vespa would take her without losing the giant fish off the Vespa’s back compartment. She was feeling afraid because she knew Teegan would be nearly awake, but felt certain he would be in enough of a fog she would have time to make the potion he required. She prayed the tonic took his darkness away, the shadow that stalked him. But at the same time Tallia knew, the shadow was Teegan.
The presence of darkness lurked as Tallia quietly opened the back door, slipping inside her shop. She set the goldfish in his bag, down on a countertop and stood for a moment blinking tiredly. It was the middle of the afternoon and a wave of fatigue overwhelmed her. She had been up late thinking about Teegan, what he could have possibly done hundreds of years ago to be cursed so wickedly. She was thinking about him in other ways too, Tallia realized blushing.
She wasn’t sure what she’d do if Teegan knew she’d drugged him, what he’d say or do. She didn’t know how much in control Teegan was of his darkness right now. The wisest thing Tallia could do was make him his potion whenever he needed it, whatever kind of potion it was. She thought about the wisdom Teegan hopefully acquired in his centuries alive. Would it make him extra understanding?
Then again, she could be wrong. Some people never learned their lessons despite experience. Yet Tallia was sure, in Teegan’s startling green eyes had been knowledge of dark deeds and lessons learned with difficulty. The blackness in his gaze almost had the affect of repelling Tallia at first.
At the same time, his emerald eyes were seductive and drew her too Teegan. No matter his real age, he appeared to be in his thirties. He was ridiculously good looking in the truest sense. She could smell his particular pleasing scent from where she leaned against the counter in the back of her store. Where she put together potions and caste spells for magical items customer’s required.
Perhaps, it was her heightened sense of smell which brought to life Teegan’s addictive scent, or maybe her memories were more vivid due to her attraction to him.
Tallia jumped when a voice whispered in her ear.
“Where’d you go? How come my potion’s not made? I need it now Tallia,” he whispered.
“Yep, I’m awake, thanks for the nap by the way. Did you find out what you needed too? I see you got the giant gold fish. You’re worried about me and the shadow around me which makes you sick. You went and talked to Jude. He’s been around over a century. Old for most humans, but not as old as me, Tallia.”
“I didn’t talk to Jude, he’s in the hospital because he had a stroke and isn’t doing well,” Tallia sad with sadness.” I talked to his great-grandson Aspen. He run’s the store now I guess. He said you were cursed, that you did something terrible. That’s why you’ve so much darkness. How do you make it go away Teegan? What happens if you don’t take this potion?”
Tallia felt warm and comfortable and realized Teegan had moved to hold her from behind, his arms crossed against her stomach. Teegan’s head suddenly lay against hers and she could feel him sigh as if he could finally relax. Tallia had never been so near to Teegan, she felt dizzy in good way. It felt wonderful to be held so gently, though she wondered if Teegan realized he had moved to comfort her.
Moments later, Tallia felt Teegan’s lips firmly on the side of her neck, traveling up under her ear and sucking gently on her earlobe. His lips moved back down her neck to the v-neck of her sweater. He kissed her over her heart and Tallia shivered when his lips traced her neck, went over her chin, and landed on her lips. Her heart was racing, she felt hot and cold all over.
Teegan bit her lip gently, seeking access to her mouth. His tongue met hears with need. Tallia couldn’t think, could only feel. Her connection with Teegan was something new to her. This sense of knowing him and recognizing him, beyond the physical sense. In her mind, she could feel him encouraging her to relax.
“I’ll take care of you,” he whispered.
Teegan kissed Tallia until she was breathless, his hands massaging her stomach, sides, and hips. His hand moved up to squeezing her breast over her sweater and short coat. She moaned when he broke off his the kiss leaving Tallia wanting. He breathed in the crook of her neck, his hand not moving, but not leaving either. It seemed as if hours had passed but it had only been minutes.
Teegan collected himself and moved a distance from Tallia as he spoke: “Tallia, I can’t. I want to, but I shouldn’t have done that; it confused you. I need you to make my potion nowplease. You’re the only one who can do it. It has to be one of your bloodline. And if you don’t I’ll turn evil. I’ll be a curse myself, a terrible man. I’ve done such evil because I’m cursed, or was before your gifted ancestor came up with this potion. It’s the only way to keep me from turning, Tallia. You and I, we’re tied together because of your ancestor. You remind me of her,” Teegan remarked.
“You need to tell me the entire story. This isn’t fair Teegan. Of course, I’ll make the potion. But my Aunt never told me any of this. The cancer took her a way in so little time. I need more answers from you,” Tallia pleaded.
“I don’t want to talk about it Tallia. Make the potion. You’re breaking my heart here,” Teegan said rolling his eyes.
“What if I don’t?”
“I’ll be evil, as I’ve said and as I’m sure Aspen told you. I’ll hurt you, probably kill you, and I don’t want to do that. If I kill you, I’ll be evil forever — until someone kills me. You’re the last in your line. Make the potion, Tallia, we could be happy.”
“Tallia, make it now! You know I’m not trying to deceive you. You can feel it.”
“Yes, you’re right. I do feel you’re being genuine. I’ll make it as fast I can.”
Tallia gathered all the ingredients she had laid out earlier and brought them to an extremely large mixing bowl. She measured all the ingredients into the bowl quickly and accurately, barely thinking. She followed the directions in Aunt Willow’s tome and chanted the right words when she needed to say them. Pouring out the water of the giant gold fish’s bag in a sink, she slid the giant flopping gold fish into her bowl. With wide eyes she watched the potion simmer and turn scarlet.
Aspen had been right, the goldfish was a sacrifice of life. Although a mouse or anything small would’ve done the job, but her ancestor’s writing said the giant goldfish was preferred. Tallia strained the chunks of ingredients from the mixture; the goldfish had disintegrated.
Tallia pulled a beer stein out of her cupboard to Teegan’s surprise. She poured half of the scarlet liquid into the earthen beer stein. Teegan had been watching Tallia create the potion the entire time. He hadn’t said anything, only watched her, familiar with her actions. He’d probably watched her Aunt Willow and her Great-Aunt do the same. And many of Tallia’s ancestors, if she could believe his story.
She turned around from the giant bowl and found Teegan beside her, leaning against the counter studying her. His hand moved, pushing her light purple-grey hair behind her ear. He was so much taller than her, Tallia thought.
Teegan smiled when she offered him the beer stein.”Where’s yours?”he asked her.
“Where’s my what?”
“Yourhalf of the potion? You have to drink it with me,” Teegan told her.
Tallia was about to protest but he was gazing at her in a particular way. She noticed the pain usually hidden in his eyes present. She felt it through herbeing and it softened her heart; her protests crumbled.
” I wish I wasn’t so intuitive, Teegan. You do really need me to drink your tonic with you? Do you promise I’ll be okay?”
“I promise. Your Aunt, she was always fine. You’ll find it invigorating actually,” he said.
Tallia nodded reading what Teegan had told her in the tome beside her on the counter. How did she miss that direction? Peeringup she noticed him pouring her a beer stein of the remaining liquid. She took the potion from him, grimacing because she knew the ingredients in it. She tasted a bit of the potion, testing the flavour. It tasted like cinnamon and a woodsy red wine. How could that be?
“Bottoms up?” Teegan said holding up his stein.
Talia clinked her stein with his, “Slainte,” she said.
Teegan’s potion was easy going down. Tallia could feel a lightness, as if her cares were floating free. She felt energy, Teegan was right. His potion did feel invigorating. Her mind felt intensely perceptive as well. Swallowing the remenants of the liquid she saw Teegan had already finished his.
“Better, huh?” he asked.
“Yeah, it’s amazing stuff,” she said peering everywhere, everything around her was completelycrystal clear. Her early fatigue was gone. Tallia noticed Teegan’s dark circles had faded. He appeared younger, his few wrinkles smoothed out. He was gazing at her again in certain way, and she knew from the flicker in his green-eyes what he wanted. Tallia felt almost drunk, except the potion made everything feel real.
She laughed aloud and Teegan frowned,”What?”
“No you’re not getting that from me,” she said.
“It wasn’t difficult to get a kiss and more from you before. You like me. I can tell, I like you too,” Teegan said, eyes darkening and meeting her own.
“No,” Tallia said laughing again. “You have to earn it. Take me out. Tell me about yourself and my ancestors. Did you sleep with one of my great- great – female relatives?”
“Don’t you feel like you’re burning up inside? I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t . . .” he said approaching Tallia, following her as if she were prey. “I slept with the first of your ancestors I knew, she was my . . . my woman, for a while. But she died and we never had a child.”
Tallia backed away from Teegan smiling, wary but turnedon at the same time. He was irresistible and Tallia found herself trapped against a wall. She laughed more as Teegan stripped off his shirt and unbuckled his belt. Her mouth ran dry seeing his finely sculpted body. He grinned and grabbed both her hands, holding her hands above her head. Tallia whimpered and Teegan chuckled.
“I’m not, I’m not a one night type of girl and you’re . . . you smell so good. But you’ve lived so much longer than me, what could you possibly see in me,” she murmured.
“You’re not one night Tallia. I was thinking many many and I see you’re beautiful and gifted; you’re also intelligent.You didn’t immediately trust me.”
“Okay . . .” Tallia began but Teegan’s lips roughly met hers and she gasped as his tongue invaded sliding against hers. His hands were everywhere beneath her shirt and bralette. Then her shirt and bralette were gone and his mouth was there and she couldn’t contain her cries. “Oh no . . .”
He removed his mouth breathing hard, “Stop?”
“Oh please no!” Tallia said.
He chuckled and continued loving her with his mouth. “Teegan . . .” she whispered, feeling her body melt into his.
He pulled off the rest of her clothes, kissing her slightly round stomach and turning her around to kiss Tallia all over back and to her surprise, over her hips and bottom. His fingers found her center and rubbed below, circling her sweet spot, his thumb pressing against her.
“Please please. . .”
Teegan kissed her bottom again and turned her around so his head was level with Tallia’s belly button. He kissed her stomach before thrusting two fingers into her core, she shook and nearly screamed. It hurt but it was okay because the pleasure of his fingers going in and out of her was intense. She wailed when his fingers took her over the edge.
He kissed her, his lips and tongue centered on her core. The sensations Tallia felt were indescribable. Teegan was teasing her, he knew she need to come again but wasn’t letting her; he was making her wait for him. Teegan removed the rest of his clothes and gently lifted Tallia’s body onto the counter. He pushed both his fingers inside her again, adding a third.
“I’ve never . . .” she whispered suddenly shy.
“At your age? I’m flattered, no one values that these days,” Teegan whispered.
Tallia flushed, “Well it’s complicated. It’s gone but, I never had sex.”
“What do you mean?” Teegan asked stopping. His voice sounded grim.
“Don’t stop, don’t,” Tallia begged.
“Okay, but I will kill whoever did it to you,” he promised.
Tallia believed Teegan, he appeared dead serious even though they were having sex.”It’s fine,” she mumbled. “It was a university party. I was too drunk and fell asleep and he was there sometime. When I woke up he was gone and I hurt,” Tallia admitted anxious for Teegan to continue loving her.
“Are you okay, are . . .”
“Please don’t, don’t stop. Please I need you.”
Teegan nodded, understanding. “You’ve got me,” he replied.He guided himself to her entrance and gently pushed inside.
“Good, more.” Tallia said gripping his sides until Teegan was completely inside her. It stung and hurt but it was also the best feeling she could imagine when he began to move. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he whispered dirty things in her ear, all the things he wanted to do to her.
She felt his rhythm increase and her own body released again, more powerfully this time. She felt the final pushes of him in her body as he came. Teegan breathed heavily, holding Tallia and kissing her forehead.
Then, Tallia was crying, amazed tears were falling down her face. But Teegan gently hushed her and kissed her tears. It was hard for her to believe Teegan could ever be an evil monster. Tallia needed to know more about his past, when he was ready to tell her; she hoped it was soon.
Good Morning! I’m thrilled to share with you another blogger and writer for my bi-weekly interview series. For personal reasons The DifferentOnecannot share her true name. But she is a talented blogger trying to find herself in life through her writing and blogging. Her blog is called: Standing Out As The ‘Real Me’.
1. Please Tell Us About Yourself?
I used to use the pseudonymAirg but now I go by The Different One. I’m from the USA but my origin is Indian. I can’t share a picture of myself for personal reasons, but I am a girl.
I attend school and afterwards I share my experiences during the day on my blog. I’m told a have a pretty mature mind for my age. Sometimes I act my age. I only let people who know me well see I’m your average girl. I suppose I’m afraid to see certain people’s response if I don’t act maturely most of the time. I’m smart and intelligent, but other kids didn’t especially appreciate this fact. Particularly, during my preteen and teenage-age years, life was tough for me.
Something interesting about me was that I wasn’t supposed to be born. There were issues at my birth. The Doctors said I’d lose an eye, lose a leg, or die during my fourth month of life. But this didn’t happen thankfully.
I was born two-months premature at about seventeen-inches, weighing only a pound. But despite having issues at birth and when I was a small baby, it doesn’t affect me now. I had a blood infection when I was born. But, I survived and today I’m your average girl.
2. So How Do You Feel About Yourself Today?
Some people receive gifts or talents such as strength, beauty, or intelligence. Although, I’m smart, I’ve never felt pretty. Sometimes you see people walk by and think, “That person is pretty.” But it isn’t the case with ME! I don’t pay attention to what others think of my appearance because beauty is not my gift.
I have a medium brown complexion, which I think is an unattractive feature for a person to have. I used to worry about it. At school even though people don’t particularly try to be rude, Ican tell by their facial expressions what they think of my appearance.
It is and was difficult to be a girl who isn’t attractive. I wanted to standout at school and be noticed for my looks as some girls are. But, one day I realized beauty isn’t important, nor what others thinking about my appearance. I’m just me. God gave me, myself as a gift and I’m satisfied with her.
By the way, I don’t believe in popularity and certain religious principals and beliefs. I do believe, however, God gave me life, guides me, and allows me to take a hold of my life in the direction I best see fit. I guess you can tell now, I don’t talk as a person of my young age usually does.
” [O]ne day I realized beauty isn’t important, nor what others think about my appearance; I’m just me. God gave me myself as a gift and I’m satisfied with that.” – The Different One
3. When Did You First Start Blogging and Writing? What Value Does Writing Have To You?
I started blogging a few weeks before my birthday on June 23, 2016. Writing means a way I can show people who I am. A way they can appreciate me for who I am. I write to share my experiences and journey through life. Perhaps I write to find the real ME, I’ve been searching for her for a long time.I want to be able to act like myself and not feel judged.
4. Where Do You Find Your Inspiration and Motivation to Write?
Whoa! This is tough! I started writing to find myself as I mentioned above. I was going through a stage trying to figure out my purpose and who I am; an experience everyone goes through at sometime. For me this stage occurred earlier than I expected. Nothing particularly, motivates me to write except myself sitting down and writing. I write for me, alone, if that makes any sense.
My inspiration is my cousin Nimi. She’s the reason I can say I’m happy to go through this stage I’m experiencing. We have always had this sisterly connection since I was six-years-old. In a way, she inspires me to be the person, the human being I am today. In this way she is an inspiration to me when I write. Other wise, I honestly don’t know what inspires or motivates me in my writing.
“Writing means a way I can show people who I am and they can appreciate me for who I am. I write to share my experiences and journey through life. Perhaps, I write to find the real ME I’ve been searching for, for a long time. The me I can’t act like at the moment, but I want to be able to act like.” – The Different One
5. What Time of Day Do You Most Enjoy Writing? Is There a Purpose To Your Writing? Have You Ever Had Any Writing Published?
Well after 3:00 pm is the best time for me to write because that’s when school ends. Mostly, I write from 6:oo pm through 10:00 pm. My purpose or project is to find my path in life, at the moment.
I have some writing pieces which I thought about publishing before. People at school used to try to act cool. To me it was as if they were acting so ‘sunshiny’ all the time; they weren’t authentic. They were hiding behind a shadow. I wanted to explore this shadow people hide behind and find out who they actually were. I approached my writing as if I was trying to get to know these people and their personas. I guess when I wrote, it fell into the topic of human psychology. But I don’t do that kind of writing anymore on people’s false personalities; however, I do plan writing more about human psychology, growing-up, life, and my beliefs in the future. That’s my ‘thing,’ my area of expertise.
6. On Your Blog, Do You Have Any Publishing or Writing Process You Go About? Are There Any Writing or Read Genres You Prefer?
I have no idea how I publish, even on my blog. I just write stuff and see what comes out. Publishing for real is something that will come much later for me. I have no writing process really. I am not writing as a professional. I want to write like me, to express myself and what I’m going through. I write,write,write and post it on my blog if I feel like it. That’s about it.
I enjoy writing about experiences in life, human behavior mostly. I always write something about humans and how they feel and react. I love reading biographies about famous individuals such as Anne Frank. I also enjoy reading realistic fiction or diaries which have been published.
“People at school used to try to act cool. To me it was as if they were acting so ‘sunshiny’ all the time; they weren’t authentic.They were hiding behind a shadow. I wanted to explore this shadow people hid behind and find out who they actually were. I approached my writing as if I was trying to get to know these people and their personas more.” – The Different One
7. Do You Have Any Helpful Advice for Other Writers? Is There Anything Else You Would Like to Share With Us About Your Self or Your Blog?
I don’t specifically have any helpful advice for other writers because I know some people might not listen to my advice. All I can say is for bloggers and writers is to write whatever you want.Be who you are and write, even with mistakes and spelling errors. Simply write and whatever comes out, comes out. Write like you!
I feel my writing journey will end sometime. I won’t write until I die on my blog. Once I figure out who am and deal with the realities of life bothering me, than for me, I’m done. I’ll remember writing and blogging as a ‘finding me,’ exercise in life.
My best friend died about a year ago. March 15,2015. I remember it very clearly. My grandparents called and it was 11pm night in USA.It was awkward because they never call at that time, we would be sleeping, But,that day my family was busy with stuff.
Phone : Beep beep
Mom: Your grandma might be calling. It’s late!
Grandma: Saying stuff.
Mom: Aww. Poor thing. When? I can’t believe it. When we used to visit India it was always there. *******( my name) loved him. I won’t tell.
Me: ( I was thinking it might be about Tyson. He was getting old. And dogs don’t live that long) Mom anything happen? Tyson?
Mom: No,no, he’s fine.
Me: Mom c’mon!
Mom:(Saying in a language I didn’t know to my dad random stuff.) I heard Tyson’s name though.
Me: Tell me! Is he dead? I started crying a bit.
Dad: No! He’s just in hospital. Stop crying.
Few days later I go on Facebook. But, now I don’t have it anymore. I see a post from my uncle’s account. It was posted March 17,2015 12:56 pm or am. It had a pic of my dog wearing sunglasses. It said something like” not forgotten”. I was like” huh”????? In the comment section everyone was saying “Rip”. I was like wtf. Something is totes wrong!
I called my uncle even though it was 2am in India. I screamed and cried. He said no no. They were kidding. Nothing happened. And all that shit. But, I believed it though.
That summer when I went to India I saw my uncle. I asked him at the airport what actually happened to Tyson. He told me this shitty story about a doctor having a lot of loans, so he took all the animals and ran away, Tyson was with them. I’m like stop! Tell me. But, at that point I knew he died. I just wanted to hear it from my uncle’s mouth. He said Tyson is dead. I started crying.
The whole 2 hour drive I cried. When I reached my grandparent’s house my face was crispy and dry, gooey at some edges.
I visited his graveyard and prayed. I learnt that he was sick one day. He threw up. And usually my grandma cleans it up. But,she just came from the hospital ,so my grandpa did. And he was staring at my grandma. Then he slept for a while, and wasn’t replying. My uncle was on tour. And my grandma called him immediately and said something happened to Tyson. And Tyson was my uncle’s son. He rushed back home but 6 hour drive though. My uncle’s friend came and in a blanket carried Tyson to ambulance.
After a few minutes in the ambulance, the thingy that shows if they are breathing normal was going straight. Then the nurse said,” Sir he is no more!” My uncle’s friend came with the bad news. And everyone cried. My grandparents fell sick because they were in grief.
My grandma closed his eyes and after my uncle came back they did his funeral. They dug him up near a field near our grandparent’s house.
Every time I go there,I see his graveyard and pray and cry.
But, time goes on. I can’t go on praying to God to see Tyson one more time. It won’t work. I kept saying,” Take my life. Not his”. But, c’mon guys. He’s gone alright. Gone.
This summer in India I got a key-chain with a piece of rice. It had his name on it. I put all my sadness in it.
The day before yesterday our family went to the beach. It was 8-9pm. I took the key-chain put all my emotions in it and threw it away. It kept coming back though, so finally I took it out of the box and threw it. I realized that he’s not dead to me anymore. He’s a part of me from now on. I shouldn’t be sad because I can’t see him. I believe he’s always there watching. When I grow up I’ll realize he wasn’t watching, I said that to make me feel better. I do know he isn’t. I know he’s dead. But, who said I can’t lie or believe in something to make me feel better about him.
I buried a letter about him in the sand. Whoever reads that years from now on will know about this foolish girl and her best friend.
Yes, yes, a dog as a best friend is foolishness for all of you guys. But he was my closest buddy until I was 3 years old. Don’t you all think I loved him like crazy?!
His death or absence made me look at animals differently. I don’t get too attached anymore because I don’t have that much left in me to get hurt. I am not tough, or strong physically and emotionally. I’m sensitive and emotional. I can’t go through anymore deaths.
I don’t believe in having multiple BFF in life. Have one for once and for all. Tyson will always be my best friend forever. Humans, nah, anything could happen. Lol. To be safer and happier I’d stay with one forever.
9. Here Are A Couple of Additional Links to A Different One’s Page:
Thank You To A Different One For Sharing With us her writing views and her journey to find herself and her path in life through her writing. I wish her all the best and hope that she finds writing not only helps her as she struggle through a difficult time now, but as she grows older. Once again here is a link to The Different One’sBlog:
Thank You for coming back and reading my bi-weekly interview series. I so appreciate your visits and those of you who have participated sharing about yourselves and your writing processes, whatever part of life you are in. If you would like to be featured in my bi-weekly interview series please reach-out to my on my contact page. Thanks and see you in two-weeks.