In the silence of the lousy afternoon, she sat down with a pen and paper, jotting down the dos and don'ts for the lessons she had learned. However, the piece of paper she was writing upon was golden. It bleeded golden glitters with every line she marked as the story of hers. She. The meaning of belonging to her oneself, the meaning of living the life comes with sense of responsibility and reasoning fair and fine. She was confused. Lost in the melody of present, the blankness clouds the memories of past moments. But, this ain't a fair task, she thought. She will put a mark with her words, because it is what she is set to do. Determined, she kept weeping and mopping her whims, bleeding out the paper of the magical sparkles. All of a sudden, she noticed that the paper was no more ejecting out the jitters of golden, but the red fluid started owing out instead. Not a few moments later, she noticed that her hand started having cuts. More the paper bleeded, more marks appeared on her hand. Baffled, she started to find a clue, hoped for some explanation. On the flip side, the paper was signed 'life' in small, delicate, little red fonts. The epiphany came flowing. The margins on the flipped side were still golden, but the letters she wrote embossed back black and red imprints against the meager of sparkle that left. Luckily, there was some more space left to be written. She decided to see if she can bring back the beauty of the paper called life. Immersed in the melody of present, she started to write down things she had be grateful, about the small, delicious dreams of childhood, the innocence she saved in herself to enjoy the simple pleasures of daily life, and about the duties she blissfully fulfilled. She sang songs as she wrote, releasing the knots, releasing the unknown depth inside her. Her. She thought again. Her. Made up of power to act, potential to dream and pinged with the thunder to soar in the freedom-named sky. The pen inked out the flip-sided, dormant and ignored sideof hers, which was thanking her at the moment. It was grateful that she listened to the complaints she had for her own-self, for not being that incredible person she could become. Defying all the boundaries the mundane world has, Defending the abyss, a whole different vibrancy lives within her. Satisfied, satisfied with the discovery of 'her', She opened her eyes. Once again, she decided to look at the flip side of life. The dark marks were still there. A few more grew out as well. However, the sparkle. It doubled and doubled. Wonderfully did it grew around the shady imprints and indents. In a moment, she realized what she was looking at. An image of 'her'. The paper formed her. There was sparkle on her lips, smile in her eyes, and a face was formed. A face who knew the pain, but also has the power to outshine that pain. The smile came out of completeness and totality she felt in finding the pleasure within herself, embracing her own self. She smiled, patted herself and signed her name on the last line of the page. The art was hers, and she became the artist. The music still played, and the shiny afternoon still buzzed. Sitting up, walking in the sunshine of the backyard, She walked out of the room; she walked out in grace.
© sunshine07