A/N: It has been over a year since I've last posted. Recently, I've been writing upon emotion and inspiration- whenever I'm lucky enough to be endowed with it. I read the little pieces of writings to a friend, who now believes that the writings should go a bit further than just to her. Even though it is not a fanfic, the people I would want to read this the most are the ones that have supported my first piece of writing- A Pearl Beneath the Sea.
You can come to think of these passages or poems as Kagome's diary, where she was writing after a loss of her first love and finally learning to move forward towards the unmarked future while still enduring the pressure of college and wondering about how she will ever attain true happiness.
So I hope you enjoy my release of thoughts. And I will be posting a true fanfic on Kagome and Inuyasha in the very near future. I guess I wasn't able to stay away from writing about the pair for long.
Dreams of Originality
12:52 A.M. I sit pencil in hand. I scratch my head; I pace back and forth; I stare out of the window. Blank. I want enlightenment as Buddha had under the Bodhi tree. I want discovery as Columbus spotted land after weeks at sea. I want the perfect words just as when Martin Luther King Jr. addressed the crowds in Montgomery. Still the clock ticks and time feels as if it could go on for eternity, yet nothing worthy presents itself.
I lay on my bed. I shut my eyes hoping that sleep would take me away into a world of unconsciousness as it does every night before, however this night is different. My mind wonders about the useless— of my impending biology test and how my night light flickers due to the low-quality light bulb. I then ponder about how sleep is able to take me out of the real world and pull me into dreams that are but illusions created by my mind, which forms situations and images that never occur in the conscious state.
As sleep finally overcomes me, I find myself sitting behind a large mahogany desk. Papers are littered around me. I grab one of them. I scan the page quickly. It is of someone's accomplishments in school and sports— dull. I pick the next one up; it is the same. I find none captivating and intriguing. All of them have good intentions I was sure, but strangely enough, I knew there was something I was looking for. I pull a small wrinkled sheet of paper from the bottom of a stack. It is different— unique. The prose flows from the page and the emotions shake my heart. It is the essay I had dreamed of writing.
My alarm rings. The sun is peeking over the horizon, not yet ready to fully expose itself. 6:00 A.M. illuminates from my clock on the bookshelf in front of me. I rub my eyes, shaking sleep off. I feel for my slippers on the side of my bed and walk groggily to the kitchen. I pour some milk into a bowl and dump Cocoa Puffs in it. My mother sits down across from me and hands me a piece of blank, white paper. "The essay isn't going to write itself, you know."
At that moment time stops. My dream. The paper in my hand. I was so close to being the next Marie Curie or Elizabeth Blackwell with an essay like that. Yet now, my mind is still unable to grasp the words on that brilliant page; instead, I write of how I was only a few millimeters away from true originality.
I miss
I miss
The times where we would sit in the sand and play all day
I miss
Having recess where we did what we may
I miss
Being young, and innocent, and utterly naïve
I miss
Dreaming up futures consisting of everything we believed
I miss
Scraping my knees and crying from the pain
I miss
Trusting everyone and thinking I would never be left in vain
I miss
The childhood of every little kid
I miss
My past- where everything I desired, I did
The Only One
You
can be the hand extended when I've fallen to the ground
You can
be the shoulder where I rest my head when I'm too sad for words
You can be the face that smiles upon me when I can only frown
You can be the legs that run to me when I'm lost
You can be
the lips that speaks of caring words when I feel that all hope is
gone
You can be eyes that watch out for me when I'm vulnerable
You can be the spirit that blesses mine
You can be the heart
that loves me for everything that I am
And you can be the person
that I can't live without
A Pathway
I was walking along a narrow path. The trees lined it from either side, and my feet kicked up dirt with each step that I took. The colors captivated my eyes and the fresh air rushed deeply into my lungs. Everything was so close to being perfect. I was met with another stranger. The person had emerged from no where. I was shocked and curious of their presence. I soon learned much and with it my soul grew. As we walked, hand in hand, we found that the path that we had so long taken ended and forked in two separate directions. Raindrops hit my face gently as we stopped. Our hands slipped from each other as the storm grew worse and with that we ended up on different paths...
Simply
Touch a hand
And you never want to let go
Touch a face
And you always want to stare into their eyes
Touch the heart
And you will learn how much you can't live without them
Gone
If you knew
If you understood
Things would have never going astray
If you believed
If you hoped
Miracles could have occurred to put together the pieces
If you fought
If you wanted
Even the most unreachable things could be in your hands
If you loved
If you cared
A heart would be lifted
If you gave up
If you lost
Then all is gone
Pondering
As day turns to night
As night turns to day
We wonder what our lives become
Seeking a happiness that everyone desires
We grow with each experience
We cry for the hurtful pains
Our heart crumbles-
Knowing a loved one is not there any longer
As days pass by
We wish to find our passion
We hope to find a love
Yet we're left with only our heart in our hands
An inspiration, a spark, a yearning
Drives us forward
To the deathly depths
Of the ends of the Earth
And in the end
Awake here I sit
Contemplating
On how true happiness is found…
You
Stars shine above me
I turn to face you
A smile appears on your face as you brush the hair from my face
You whisper in my ear
"Wish upon a star"
I point to the brightest on
"For you and I to always be as we are tonight"
A breeze flows around us
You pull me closer
I feel the warmth and close my eyes
Your heart beats slowly
I just want to melt into your arms
Then I feel a jolt from you
I look to the sky
A streak of light crosses the sky
The star I wished upon fell
Granting my wish for eternity
And I felt warm lips pressed lightly on my forehead
Love is…
Love is unspeakable
It's too breathtaking for words
Love is incomprehensible
It's confusing with no straight paths
Love is unpredictable
It hits hard and you fall deeply
Love is undetermined
It's when a person walks in- unaware
Pens have minds- especially the one I'm holding
The pen begs to scar this page. The mind doesn't understand its desperate need. Furiously the fingers grip the cold pen. It wants to release the emotion, the longing, the sadness. How its writer pleads it to discontinue. The pain pours forward like hot lava. It can't stop. It won't stop.
Why is love cruel and unrelenting? Why is happiness unattainable and yet so desirable? The pen writes with vigor. It continues on with the misfortunes and failures. Circles of water stains damage the tortured paper. The writer wants to quit but then the pen changes.
It ceases its fervor with the ill sentences. Words of hope and comfort flow from it. The heart is uplifted and the deathly strain on the pen is eased. How the future can be so pure- so beautiful. Yet the pen clatters on the floor. A sentence left unfinished- indicating the unwritten future that the writer must live.