Jumping Trees: The Proximal Pursuit of Happiness 1207

The events disclosed are of natural existence and I will fight for the right to share them for they are what gave this journal life; yes for those asking, I am thanking the self-indulgent pricks who shipped me and others like mine self off to the island, without them there would be no need for my ostentatious battle of words here on paper.

It was a cool summer night in the middle of the month of June about a week after my seventeenth birthday. Our attempts of separation were proven to be as weak and frugal as the two of us may have been secretly hoping; we were indeed trapped in our little bubble of secrecy; far too indulged in the stinging solution to want out even though bursting the bubble then would have saved us both a lot of energy down the road when everything reached a new level of hardness. With our bodies bathed in half lit shadows, we cast very hungry looks and penetrating stares. Her words pierced me that night, deep and ardent; possibly the soul reason as to why I remember them like I remember the sun; like I remember her knock at my door, click, click, clank; like I remember the sound of her footsteps, all thirty of them from the masters quarters to mine, their rhythmic swish-swash against the marble floor; like I remember her hand in mine as I pulled her through the door; like I remember my heart’s beat, its arrhythmic malfunction as she said her words into the very center of my ear quieter than I’d ever heard the wind.

And she said:

The Girl: Do mine eyes defeat me on so hollow
A night to find thee coupled loosely with
Mine own self singly in cold air? Speak you.
Shed light as thou sees fit, for mine self finds
It impossible to continue 'ere.

Me: It is right my lady. Thou have landed
Here in quarters be known as mine. What say
You with this? Arte thou no longer willing?

The Girl: Willing? Willingness ne'er leaves me. For I
Am that but that which is not incomplete.
See you that light? Lift it from its hold and
Take out that shine it so brings forth. For now
We must be in nothing but our darkest
Shadows. Come o'er here with the scent of you
Touching me first; be my love without wed.

Me: Ay, yes me lady. Tonight I marry
The thought of you. Break me not, or so ‘tis
Done.

The Girl: But done is nothing that does not start.

Me: Procrastination will not move me. Please,
If there is but one let it be you. Start
Or not, twill in me still be so. Relax
Let hear not you breathe if breathing is out
Of fear my love. These breaths are delicate
And we are all those gods’ little creatures;
Created together. Come now. Let us
Be one again. Fear not tomorrow
For it is just tonight’s distant fiend.

And this is not where it begins; the battle of the mind’s conflictions of what is, for us and them, to have completely without fear of dominance showing his god forsaken little face and shoving his little fist over all but himself because in his self, Sir Dominance sees the almighty rule-writer and moral creator; and he completes his job as unjustly as he can get away with, (seeing that his little viral tube of airborne brainwashing has failed when it touched those with immunities; those freethinkers who will not back down; those who aren’t scared). It is known, and no one can say it is not, they hate us and our actions; but they sure as Hell’s unlit fire will get off and on to get a few moments inside of our purity. To commence in their actions would only prove the nation correct in what they will not admit; witches in their naked truth reveal more than a few threats of containment and eternal mediocrity will force them to subscribe with their own blood upon their predators pearly white-stained parchment.

And in this moment I remember her thoughts becoming mine.

Is it my reluctance which has stranded

Me here bound by shackle and mine own self-

Righteousness; my inability to

Commit mine self to what I have heard from

Minds much more greater than mine own, to be

The inappropriateness of those un-

Kempt Saints who have been banished to the small

Island of the mistaken appalling

People; those whom did not fit the bill of

What is acceptable and what is not?

Am I to contradict myself now and

Go against my willingness to let her

Love me fully without fear? I am scared

Of what may come of this.

Hearing them, her thoughts, I almost shattered. She was unsure which was acceptable for her to be for she was the wife of the master and I was just the rebellious female slave, but I could not let her fear herself any longer. I took her close in my arms, introduced her to the physique of my shadows, placed my lips across hers, tongue twisting with hers, and in that moment she looked up into my eyes, defeated the inches of height distance, age distance, role difference, she became my equal; our completeness was sound.

Me: Please don’t be scared.