Picture Prompt: Color

Breathe in the color, breathe it out--

soak in the various hues.

A tiny kitty cat

living in a rainbow's shoes.

Picture Prompt: Warm

Slowly and carefully,

at their own pace, each one blooms.

They grasp and reach and stretch--

until their beauty fills the room.

World of Winx Review: Episode 1

World of Winx.
First aired November 4, 2016, it poses as a Netflix-shown followup to the so popular Winx Club. Just as girly and fantasy-filled, it came in the scene right after Winx Club started to lose its spunk and audience. It could be better, right at par, or even worse depending on how you measure the two. Or, you love/hate them for completely different reasons to the point where comparison isn't even fair. Overall, it still only received decent ratings. It didn't fulfill the full Winx Club vision, but it satiated fans who were disgusted by seasons 7 and 8.
It's very first episode, the Talent Thief revolves around the girls and their "TV show."
We begin with the six of them scouting the city looking for a suspect who the Winx believe kidnaps what they call talents--special individuals with extraordinary abilities. Tecna admits they've been following this guy around for eight months with no luck. They appear to get close this time, but yet again he slips away due to what the show reveals is an invisibility guise.
However, duty calls, and the crew has to hurry off to prepare to be filmed. We're shown that they're talent scouts for the "Wow! Wow! Wow! Talent Show." It seems to have a reality element, especially concerning the girls. They're nicknamed the "Wow 6" and the camera attempts to follow them in their daily lives. It then follows them as they watch various--admittedly horrendous--acts attempt to be the show's next talent. However, almost as expected, they end up venturing from the line up of auditions and chasing some waitress trapped in a bakery. Annabelle, the waitress, receives help from the Winx to finish orders and prepare for a concert to which the audience will vote either "wow" or "ouch."
The next few scenes are a 2000s performance, the audience loving it, and the Winx acquiring a new power, Onyx(the one known for being an animated perfume ad).
From here, everything spirals downhill with Annabelle mysteriously going missing. The six chase a figure running through the halls, who ends up being Louise, a jealous coworker. Who, apparently, "couldn't bear to see Annabelle living (her) dream." For a moment, I rolled my eyes, expecting them to sympathize with her possible kidnapper. Instead, Broom quickly snaps at her before they run off to find Annabelle. Good choice, though we never find out just what Louise did. The episode ends with a slight cliffhanger moment of Annabelle asking her kidnapper what his intentions are.
My thoughts? It's likable. Definitely still geared more towards the younger audience--the awkward pauses and lines bothered me a bit--but I could watch this through and enjoy it. I even went on to watch the second episode. The show is likable, definitely something to watch in the middle of July when I've found myself with nothing keeping me from writing and sleeping all day. The plot is solid, the characters are well drawn, animation is smooth, and the music is decent. My only issues are the pacing and dialogue. Though, considering it's garnered for eight to twelve-year-olds, it's excusable. To be frank, this was the same target audience the original Winx Club had in its first season--and it faced the same issues. The story line was solid, but the script was lacking due to being watered down. But it was lovable. And to the fans upset over Winx Club's newer seasons being aimed at four-year-olds, World of Winx is just the fix.

Poem Prompt: Green

Growth.

Hundreds of thousands

of millions of trees;

reaching for the sky,

seeking asylum.

From the moment they first sprout,

Their hopes and branches are high.

But they see this world.

The one we've made--

or destroyed--

and their souls are crushed.

They continue to grow,

weakened and frail.

Until they see the clouds,

the puffy white border

hiding away the heavens.

They stretch up--

Reach up--

Trees stand firm

for hundreds of years.

Ever growing--

Ever reaching--

for the heavens.

Naivety

"Naivety is the sister of innocence and the cousin of stupidity." ~ Pierre Decourcelle.

Though at times bliss, naivety brinks on pure idiocy.
Ignorance, ingenuousness, guilelessness, immaturity, unworldliness--however you want to dress it up, it's the lack of experience.
Now, it isn't necessarily a bad thing. Everyone and everything starts out completely naive. Babies minds picture the world in the brightest light and avoid incriminating anyone. But as the mind ages, becomes much easier to assume ulterior motives from others. It makes us distrustful, but also more cautious.
The most difficult part of being naive, is knowing that you are. Instead of growing out of that childlike set of mind, it sticks around. And the longer it does, the more issues it causes. I, for one, tend to act like this occasionally. At this point in my life, it's not as if I don't know. However, changing my inclinations truly does feel like the most difficult thing in the world. The other side appears so cynical. Doubting people, keeping to yourself, aware of the system's flaws. It sounds awful.
Though, I'm slowly making that transition, because awareness is more than useful in so many ways. For example, I took my SAT about a month ago. Ideally, it would be a measurement of knowledge to present to colleges. A "this is how much of everything I learned in thirteen years," just as a way to ensure you weren't just a lucky duck who could breeze right through grade and high school without picking up anything. But it's not. The SAT simply measures your test taking skills. How well can you figure out an exam and its tricks to then do well on it. There are about a million SAT programs, tips, advice, etc. A bunch of dumb rules like "do the math sections back to front" or "don't read the whole passage; only skim for answers." Truly, all these rules are just cheats, yes? However, if you were to ignore it all and sit down and try to test like you would've back in grade school, you will fail. The SAT isn't a measurement of one's knowledge, it's of their test taking skills.
What keeps a person trapped in naivety are situations like this. The more you open your eyes to something, the more unfair it'll appear. And quite frankly, that's the point. Naivety protects a person from ever thinking bad of anything they want to think good of. However, it doesn't defend them from those things. The person will face these challenges head on and will be forced out of their head.
However, to assume naivety as all bad is beyond false. The spark of childish innocence, that's where hopes and dreams come from. It's able to envision a future too good to be true, and use it to motivate you. It's not enough to focus on one or the other, you need a balance. Like everything else in life, they pull against each other, but need to still be used simultaneously. Maturity to keep you grounded with a backup plan, and immaturity to push you to reach as high as you can. Sometimes, realism unfiltered blocks out anything that isn't likely to happen.
And really, so what?
So what if what I want is near impossible? I see myself doing it, so I will strive.

Picture Prompt: Humble

Words and flowers frame and make a delicate picture

Together, they remind me that the world is mine to capture

Eleventh Lovely

October 13th.
The one day each year where the three of us set aside everything. I had the day off, and it was a Saturday. So this year, we spent the whole day together. From the moment I woke up, everything was just different. There really wasn't a proper word to explain it. Everything just seemed off in a way. Even my bed, which always remained a full, and I always slept on the left side. Opening my eyes, looking over, and seeing nothing always felt so odd. I guess I never really got over it. Instead, today, I saw a card. Crayons and markers--Couro's markings. We miss you, Mommy!
I laughed at it. A little doodle of our family, even Kutu. There were a few flowers on the border, probably because Couro loved flowers. Eventually, I opened and read it. A small message saying how much she missed her. They, actually. The handwriting was amazing and suspiciously resembled Gora's. They wished her well and prayed she was in Heaven. I reread it over and over before keeping it safely on my bedside. I ensured it was open and left it like that. Just to make sure she heard. The card helped me get up--I knew I still had my children with me.
After managing to get dressed, I went down and met Gora and Couro in the kitchen. Couro was on the table fiddling with a few pencils while Gora was at the counter mixing a batter together. No tears, no wailing, no pain. It was just us and our pancakes. We sat around the table, drizzling our food with syrup and silently munching. A calm, early morning breakfast, that was all.
That was all anything was. No one really talked. No one played games or tricks on each other. No yelling or arguing. We just went through the motions, smiling at each other and minding our own business. It was so, so quiet. It was always this quiet--we never really knew what to say to each other on this day. The silence used to be so deafening. It left me inside my head and with my own thoughts, something I used to hate. But after thinking about the same things over and over, I got used to it. I know what happened, I know I can't change it, and I know it'll have lasting effects on our small family. But, this was my life. It is my life. And it's okay.
Gora carried a bouquet of flowers and Couro brought another card. I drove us over to the graveyard. A silent car ride. The two of them sat still, watching the bushes on the side of the road as we passed them. Their only movements were bumps from the pavement. I gripped the steering wheel and drove on. Eventually, I parked and stepped out. They came out after me. I saw fear in Couro's face and took hold of her hand. This would be the first time I'm bringing her with me since the burial. Gora took her other hand, probably remembering when we first came here alone together. The little girl seemed to relax a little and squeezed my hand.
Looking around, I saw doves, blossoming trees and flowers. The sun shone down on the silvery stone graves, highlighting the loving words carved into all of them. It wasn't as gloomy as it was last year. It honestly looked like a peaceful place to rest in. I took a deep breath and led Gora and Couro over to Kutu's gravestone. Gathering around, the two of them dropped the gifts they'd brought with them. They fell on top of five years worth of flowers and cards. I took their hands and we all bowed as Couro said a short prayer.
In Loving Memory
Kutu Miske 
February 21, 1981 - October 13, 2015

Red

Blood, love, royalty--

on a flag, now loyalty.

A small pointy ribbon clip

as a sign of leadership.

Romantic yet frightening--

Attractive and enlightening--

The core of a fire.

The spark of a wire.

The color of the cross

dedicated to reducing loss.

Just hinting freezing faces

while filling burning places.

As a symbol of strength,

we go to great lengths

to emulate the beauty

of such a rarity.

Sadness

It plagues us all. Sometimes, more deeply than other occasions. And for some maybe for longer durations than others. Maybe a person has never really been truly happy. Maybe they’ve never been truly sad. Well, yet that would be.
Point is, everyone experiences sadness at some time in their life. We all can relate to a slump of a mood and being unable to smile.
Now, this Thought isn’t on depression, as that’s a whole different ballgame. Instead, I want to focus on the emotion of sadness; feeling down.
It’s defeating, to put it lightly. It occurs as a reaction to something, either direct or indirect. It can prove to be a boundary line, how much a person can take before it hits home. Whether it’s from an insult or outside pressure, it’s an important line to respect. Way too often, people scoff and even take offense to it. As if their own boundary line should be farther, or better yet, nonexistent. But, why? Why is insensitivity and "toughness" so valued? In reality, these aspects are what make humans, well, humane. A very key essence of our consciousness, and many other living creatures as well, is our ability to feel.
Emotions are at the very core of everything humanity does. War, love, power, peace--it all begins with a burning emotion inside of a person brave enough to follow their feelings. Every advancement and backward stumble was started with a person or group that felt strongly for their current society and wished to change it. The life humanity has built up didn't just burst from the ground out of nowhere. It stems from the will to build, the motivation to innovate, the passion for greatness. None of which would be possible with our unique fire of emotion.
While each emotion may not be the most productive or pleasant, they each serve a purpose. An emotion is simply a reaction. The world around you shifts, and you respond. Your reactions serve as a small push for your brain to activate and work. You now have a goal to achieve. Anger shows that something must be fixed, confusion shows that a discovery is in order, boredom shows that something is lacking. An emotion doesn't have to be positive to be positive. As long as it's regulated, any emotion could prove to be useful.
Even sadness. The too well-known feeling of helplessness, wanting to cry, abandonment, or just an inexplicable sour mood. This is the one that intrudes my personal psyche all too often. I've always been a sensitive person, and I had my relentless tears to prove it. I always searched for a way to block out my unhappiness or rush through it. "Let yourself cry," was always the most popular response. Okay then--I cried. I would cry and sob and heave, millions of thoughts flashing through my head. To this day, I still do this occasionally. Instead of thinking of why I'm sad, I'd think of everything that could/has upset me. Even scenarios that never played out in real life could roll through my brain. I only let it. Little did I know, this was how emotions hurt us.
The point of an emotion is to be a response. As out of the blue as it may seem, there is always a trigger. We can then take advantage of this by searching for the trigger. Humans seem to do this with every feeling they get, except sadness and anger. For some reason, however, of those two, one has been labeled as a weak mockery and the other an intense defense. Embracing sadness is anything but weak. If a person or thing has hurt you so much you can't even muster up anger, then that should serve as more reason to handle sadness cautiously. When the feeling starts to overcome you, find out why. Sometimes it's a petty insult, other times its a deeply rooted unsolved issue. Yes, "let yourself cry," but know why.

Picture Prompt: Your View

Is the sun setting or rising? Is that even a sun? 

It depends on the eye, you determine if it is one.

Tenth Lovely

I put the car in park and looked over. Gora sat in the passenger's seat, an irritated look on his face and his arms crossed. Sheepishly, I smiled at him, but received nothing in return. A little hand gripped the side of my seat and I turned to see Couro's big brown eyes looking up at me.

"Where are we?" She took her gaze off of me and looked at the building before us. Large and framed with glass walls, it was a box-like building reaching a couple stories high.

"The aquarium," I replied cheerfully. "Man, I can't believe we've never been here before."

Too quickly, Gora coughed. "Actually, Mama used to take me here all the time. Couro here even joined us a few times, though I doubt she was old enough to remember." He turned to her, asking if she recalled with a mere look. Couro took a moment to shuffle her memory before shaking her head. Gora fell back into the seat and shrugged. "Pity."

Nervous, I gripped the steering wheel. I truly had no clue this place had any significance to either of them. Kutu used to mention it occasionally and we visited maybe three times in total. But in my mind, that was all. Obviously, I was mistaken. 

Only reason I brought them here was to attempt to strike an important conversation. After seeing the flag in Gora's room, it hit me that I never really talked to him about that kind of stuff. I wasn't sure exactly what I planned on saying, but I just wanted him to trust me a bit more. So I went online and looked up ways to start dialogues like this. A suggestion was to head over to a zoo and show how different animals are, yet that they're all important and loved. 

We didn't exactly have a nearby zoo, so I drove them over to the aquarium. A decision I was already regretting. Still, I took a deep breath, unlocked the car doors, and walked out. Couro reluctantly followed suit, but Gora remained stubborn in his seat. 

I knocked on the glass and he opened the door a crack. "I'm not going in," he stated. "I don't know what kind of bullshit you're up to this time, but I want no part." Just like that, he pulled the door shut. Refusing to look at me, he continued his pouting charade until I found myself at the end of my rope. 

"Gora."

From inside, he yelled, "I don't wanna do this."

"I don't wanna do this!" Slapping my hand off his arm, Gora huffed, "For the thousandth time, just leave me alone!" With a bit of bribery, threats, and pure yelling, I managed to mandle the restless teenager out of my car and dragged him all the way into the aquarium. Sure, he cursed me the whole way through, but I was honestly impressed with myself for getting this far. At some point and just followed me, but alas, dreams don't come true so easily. Pure rage boiled in Gora's eyes, "Why the hell are you doing this?"

I gripped Couro's fragile hand and answered as calmly as I could, "I need to talk to you two about something."

A small voice intervened, "So why not just tell us?" Couro looked up at me, waiting for my response.

Almost jumped, Gora screeched, "This!" A nearby security guard turned her head just slightly.

Nervously, I gulped and attempted to hold my composure together. "I want you to see something first." Luckily, all I got was an eye roll and Gora actually followed me. I took them to the biggest room in the building. It was fairly popular for having the most variety of fish and other sea creatures in the whole aquarium. A huge box like room with dozens of sea life swimming in the glass walls framing it. Above it, was a sign that said "Our Mini Oceania." Couro looked more than excited to enter and was even bouncing on her feet. 

"In here." Just as I thought I'd finally done it, Gora paused. I'd followed Couro's eagerness inside and didn't notice my son at first. When I turned, I didn't see him beside me, but rather at the door. Right outside the door frame to the room, he froze and looked up at the sign. Releasing Couro's tiny hand, I walked up to him. "Gora."

"...No." For the first time in a long while, he looked at me dead in the eye. Slowly, he backed out. "I absolutely fucking refuse."

There was no way I was about to let all my effort go to waste. I came too far for it all to end up meaning nothing. I grabbed his elbow, dragging him in. "Gora, I didn't ask." All I want is to be a good father for him. But I can't do it alone. If only he could just--

He pushed me. "Neither did I." Stumbling back, a saw a bit of his exterior wear off. He looked apologetic for a moment. 

"Hey, hey, break it up." Security came up to us, a black baton rolling around in his palm. He chewed a piece of gum and mostly eyed me as I stood back up. "Unless you want to be thrown out." Pausing, I looked at Gora. I waited to see what he would do, if he could cooperate just this one time.

"I'll meet you by the car." He turned on his heels and didn't look back.

Loved

Here we go, another one came.

I've been feeling lonely,

lately.

I'm not used to all of this anymore.

I used to be loved like this.

But it stopped because I left.

I didn't mean to leave--

but I did--

and I haven't been loved since.

Not like this.

It takes me a minute, but I get used to it.

I finally dive in, and blissfully float

in this new wave of affection.

It's so much, so overwhelming.

I love it--

I am loved.

Time goes on,

it starts to dry up, confusing me.

I start begging more, so desperate.

It's the last thing I want,

but how this is gonna end up.

It's pulling away.

He's pulling away.

I'm too much for him, too needy.

I'm scrambling, it's crumbling.

I need to breathe, close my eyes, think.

Focus--

pause--

wait.

I'll try it.

I watch myself, regulate my movements.

It feels like I'm pulling away now.

It hurts, I miss more than all of it

I now miss him, so much more.

But,

he hugs me.

It's different.

I close my eyes and soak in this feeling--

I haven't felt it since I first met him--

it's so much, so overwhelming.

I love it--

I love him--

I am loved.

Clinginess

I am a hugger. Period. I love receiving and giving physical affection and it is indeed my number one way of showing my love or care for a person.

My biggest issue, however, is the lack of people who feel the same. Or rather to a similar extent. Throughout the years, I've learned to watch for cues, test, a pay attention. Then make rough guesses on how much affection to give each person. Some people hate physical touch, some welcome it when the time is right. Personally, this works for friendships.
Romantic relationships are a whole different ballgame.
I like to think that as a teenager, I'm still in the process of figuring out what a relationship even is. Honestly, if I were asked my definition would be pretty rocky and all over the place. I really only know enough to know what I currently want in a person. The last times someone asked me this, my answer was short. "Affection and attention."
As hilarious as it seemed, I really wasn't kidding. For whatever reason, I am so easily touch starved. There are times where I need to remind myself that going a week without a warm hug isn't the end of the world. People get busy, tired, and simply can't constantly cradle me. Something I am coming to terms with. In the fantasy part of my head, the honeymoon phase lasts forever. All the extra gestures done in the beginning simply to impress, are easily missed.
It's difficult to push back against the almost natural progression. I could cling on, refuse to accept the change. But clinginess can get ugly really quickly. The last thing I ever want is my incessant need for affection to drive someone away. But it's happened before, and if I'm not careful how I treat people from here on out, it'll likely happen again. Sometimes, the whole debacle just seems like the dumbest thing in the world. But it's how our minds are wired. After a few weeks of obsessing over a single person and their every move, our brain slows down. You become sure of whether or not they think of you and care for you. That certainty takes away the need to always impress them. You simply want them to be happy.
Slowly, I've learned to accept that. I've found my own definition of love, and a part of it is comfort. To be comfortable with your partner. Emotionally, physically, casually. When you share all your thoughts and feelings not because you need someone to vent to, but because you can. You've found a person ready to listen to all your thoughts and feelings constantly, share their own, and sync up as much as possible. You're a team.
Nevertheless, maybe a part of falling in love, is to get through the honeymoon phase. When that time ends for a couple, it tends to be rocky waters for a while. To be in love is to have feelings greater than fancy gestures and spending every waking minute with each other. Now, you aren't your partner's main priority constantly. And they aren't yours. You're your own human beings building up your own lives. You'll fall back on each other and naturally want to make time out to do nothing but talk and catch up.
With time, I'm learning to apply this. I still am. I'm working towards being less needy, and more appreciative of a relationship's intricacies. Especially, I'm learning to stop looking at others and expecting the same in my life. My partner and I are our own people. We'll love each other our way.

Juicy

Colorful gummy bears squeezing each other, 

but they're only a pouch print, serving as a cover.

Picture Prompt: Turtle

Swimming through the deep blue sea,

This one represents them all, from a place where I can see

Possession

Possession.
/pəˈzeSHən/

A possession.
An item of property; something belonging to one.

The act of possession.
The state of having, owning, or controlling something.

Being in possession.
The state of being completely under the influence of an idea or emotion.

All three carry a similar theme. There's a sort of power imbalance. While we mostly refer to inanimate objects when using the word "possession," the idea still applies. You have more leverage over a table, correct? You can hit it, flip it, even tear it to pieces--yet it will remain silent. The table is yours. Maybe you bought it at some local store, you may sell it for a decent enough price. Even if the table is "treasured," how many people do you see treating their tables with love and respect? They may name it, clean it, keep it from crumbling under the pressure of time, all at the expense of being call obsessive.
Now, what if the table controlled you? Your life now revolved around keeping this one table satiated and in pristine condition. Constantly, you missed out on your life because specks of dust are persistent and continue to fall on your precious table. Not only did you spend a good chunk of your time cleaning this table, you obeyed it. Ask it a question; one creak is "yes," two is "no." Nothing you did was without some sort of approval from this table. You'd drive yourself to madness. Your life is now falling apart and you now wonder how the table ever lived in such conditions. So why not be on an equal plane?
You and the table are now equal partners. Weird, yes, but stick with me here. Imagine you and the table being on an equal plane. You respected it and it respected you. The two of you discussed major decisions together and everything you did was a 50/50 split. Does it work? No. Why not? It's a table. Naturally, a human is going to hold possession over a table. Any other dynamic simply doesn't work.
Why then can certain things hold possession over others? And this question is more than just living versus nonliving. Humans can take possession over animals. Creatures, sometimes bigger than ourselves, with their own lives, families, and habits. Somehow, we have the power to scoop them up, lock them up, and claim them as our own. Even if we "treat them well" or they "like us," it doesn't change the fact that we have made them ours.
In fact, humans often take possession of other humans. Not to the same extent as animals, but honestly, how many times have you heard someone say "he's mine" or "she's not mine?" Parent to child, is that relationship not traced with ownership? A being left with no choice to be completely dependent on you that you have full responsibility for? This could be applied for any sort of guardian and the human they're looking out for. How about a relationship? Sure, it's a two-way street, but most people tend to treat it more as "we own each other."
All this now begs the question; is being someone else's possession particularly bad? Personally, I'd say no. All life on earth has thrived with collaboration and by looking out for one another. You are most protected when someone sees you as a thing to be protected. If they're willing to take ownership of you and shield you from those who only mean to harm you, then you can sit in their shadow safely. An issue only arrives when they refuse to allow you to leave their arms. Once you build a relationship outside of this possessive layer, you can be sure that you're still free to leave when you wish. You can even establish a sort of "I own you, you own me." As long as it remains within certain boundaries, I, personally, see nothing wrong with this.
Sure, own isn't the exact word use to describe it, but this is just my take on it.

Poem Prompt: Mine

Me, not you.

My possession, my rule,

my call, on my time.

You stay in my line,

my words lead all.

Everyone meets all

regulations, constraints

that I set in place.

All complaints must be placed

up to me--and only me. 

I'm the only being 

who over all I tower.

This is my time, is my hour--

all this power, it's all mine.

Picture Prompt: Manny

Manny the Giraffe

Picture Prompt: Move

Is Rose Quartz a Good Person?

Or gem, I should say.
Either way, the short answer is no. Not at all.
Sure, she was abused, mistreated, and neglected, all of which most likely messed up her psyche and moral conscious. But that doesn't change the fact that she hurt thousands, affected billions, kept up a silly rouse for several millenia before her true identity got out.
Which, honestly, was a bit of a slap to the face to the fandom considering how much we used to adore her.
In reality, however, she was an immature, insatiable, dismissive, easily unimpressed sociopath looking for her next high. I say sociopath due to her lack of concern for how her actions affected others and how her "highs" always seemed to be some major change in the way things were. Everything she did was always done to an unnecessary extreme that ended up hurting someone. Even the creation of Steven himself was an all-or-nothing solution to her want to create life.
From the beginning, she's characteristically portrayed as nothing less than a brat. A child who has no idea how the world works and wants to explore. However, said child's parental figures already know they'll get bored with the real world just like that. Right there is a near perfect description of Rose. A child in search of entertainment who doesn't know her actions have consequences. I will give her this: the Diamonds' treatment of her was more likely than not the source of her apathy.
Still, she whines and cries until she gets what she wants. A colony. Once finally gifted with one, she not only cruelly abandons her long time friend, Spinel, but she also quickly starts to abandon her duties as a leader. Honestly, Pink Diamond only ever shifted in the first place out of pure boredom. Not because she was already thinking of freeing her gems--she never really thought about that. She wanted Earth. Gems who struggled in Homeworld just happened to be her best bet at an army, made clear to her by Garnet. Suddenly, she's not just looking to free Earth, but also attempting to free reject gems. In retrospect, this does end well, giving the Crystal Gems a chance to emerge and build a free world. But for thousands of years before anything truly like that is achieved, Rose Quartz gathers a plethora of gems, only for them to be shattered, bubbled, or corrupted to defend their liar of a leader. Think of all the gems who happily gave themselves up for Rose Quartz and her cause--now think of how many will never know the truth.
Who knows what she's done? Hell, Bismuth was just poofed, bubbled, and stored away inside Lion without second thought. Hidden in a place Rose knew no other gem could access and didn't even bother to alert her closest confidant. Instead, she placed Bismuth in a spot supposedly impossible for anyone else to enter, then lied to everyone else about her whereabouts. For a hot moment, she had us fooled. "Shattering is wrong." We all sympathized for a moment. But locking up your friend with no sure means of escape without second thought? She might as well have.
So then, what good has she brought? Well, she was the foot in the door. As twisted as her motives were, she started the war that banded the Crystal Gems together. She inspired so many gems to be their best selves and power through until they knew their own strength. She created Steven, who ended up being more suited for the role she took on.
Nearly nothing she did, in the moment, was necessarily right, but the Crystal Gems were always able to push through and make good of it.

Movie Review: Steven Universe Movie

Yo, it's Toby.
So, the Steven Universe Movie was released on September 2, 2019. A musical directed by Rebecca Sugar which serves as a bridge from Season 5 to Season 6 of the the usual T.V. series we've known and loved since 2013. Has it actually been 6 whole years? Damn.
I'll admit, I took my time with watching the movie and only recently finished. It was quite a rollercoster. We start by being introduced to the world Steven and the Crystal Gems had built up in the past two years. And, Steven has a neck. It's nice to see some serious development not only on Beach City but with their relationship with Homeworld. Even on Homeworld, gems are making more of an effort to live together in unity and equality. However, Steven's managed to trap himself in a "this is the end" mindset.
Obviously that isn't true, considering he sings about at the very start of the movie. Almost as soon as his song ends, Spinel hops in and ruins the party. A biochemical injector, meant to destroy all organic life on Earth. Okay, definitely a threat. The Crystal Gems hop into action but are stopped by Spinel's rejuvinator. We later find out that it reverts a gem back to its original form. How far exactly is unsure. But we're left with a never-before-fused Ruby and Sapphire, a newly emerged Amethyst, a servant Pearl and a naive Spinel. Even Steven was affected. Though his human development stayed intact, his gem became the same gem on the powerless boy we met in the first episode. This genius idea allows for a story to unfold, digging into what makes each gem themselves. It shows the main traits they've developed that have brought them this far, and highlights their strengths.
As much as I praise it, I have to admit, the introduction of a whole new conflict kind of threw me off. I somewhat hoped for something touched in the series to be readdressed and expanded on, because Lord knows how many issues have been brushed over in this show. Although, Spinel is a nice character. And her story kinda followed others' stories with Pink/Rose. They were close, then she got bored/busy, then she played with them and left. Almost predictable and fit in with the current timeline nicely. She was also a good demonstration of how innocent gems don't always change for the better. Even at the end when Steven was offering her friendship, she'd grown just enough to realize just how damaged she was.
Steven's eyes were also opened in this movie. Everyone's were really. They stopped expecting a perfect life and learned to live with a will to grow. The notion that it'll never be easy is constantly made and Steven realizes just how young he is and how much work he still has to do. But instead of letting it get him down like he used to, he saw it as a new beginning. If today is good, how great could tomorrow be?
"There's no such thing as Happily Ever After...I'll always have more work to do." ~Steven Universe, Steven Universe: The Movie

Friendship

The famous two-way street.
We all long for it, and no, it's never easy. Even for people who manage to socialize with others easily, a true, long-lasting friendship still takes time, dedication, and effort. Sure, an acquaintance is easier to come by, and with much less work. But a true friend, a person you'll be genuinely grateful to have them in your life, will come about only with patience.
Sometimes it's a struggle. Scratch that, it will always be a struggle. Two people spending that much time together and getting through that many conflicts is difficult. It doesn't matter your personality or relationship, it will be a challenge. Which is probably what makes the feel of a genuine friend so sweet.
However, it doesn't always work out. Though it's hard for some to accept, not everyone they meet will be a good friend. Sometimes, even relationships we hold close to heart need a bit of reconsideration.
I've seen this happen all too often. Hell, I've lived through the feeling. It's easy to cling on to people, especially when you're in a situation where you feel lonely or abandoned. While the person you glue yourself to may not be trying to manipulate you per se, you still have to think about their motives. What do they want from you? From your friendship? Is it more or less than your expectations?
While compromising is important, it's a give and take sort of thing. The more you give, the more you take. Some call it selfish, but it's not. You can't pour your heart out into someone who you wouldn't expect to ever be there. It's back and forth. An equilibrium that takes time to achieve, but with the right person, could one day be done by everyone.

Poem Prompt: Dizzy

I took her hand, I held it tight.

I smiled and followed her feet--

she ran in a circle, I ran in a circle.

We ran and ran, laughing and crying

until we felt

dizzy.

I fell.

We would do this every day

back when we had time.

But then we didn't,

so instead we did this whenever we saw each other,

which was often enough.

We still ran and ran.

Then she got another job--

and another, and another, and another--

so we had no time left.

I didn't want to bother her, 

she only did her best.

I ran in circles on my own until I felt

dizzy.

I fell.

She still held my hand sometimes,

and lead me to some places.

One day though, she let go--

she let go all the time really.

But normally she'd look back, wave at me, assure she was returning.

This time:

nothing.

She simply let go of my hand--

and took someone else's.

I didn't know what to do or how to respond,

so I waited for her.

Days, weeks, I sat there waiting, hoping.

For what? I was never really sure.

I just sat out there until I felt

dizzy.

I fell.

Hard.

Poem Prompt: Up

The clouds, the moon, the heavens, the sun--

everything up there seems much more fun.

When I go outside, I wish day after day

that, just once, I may join the birds and play.

Looking below me sends my faith and spirits down--

nothing to look forward to on the cold, hard ground.

I can drag my feet and sulk, and never go high.

I'd rather look up and hope at the sky.

The blues and the whites turn to purples and pinks,

our horizon can be whatever you can think.

I'll stretch my arm out, I wish I may or might.

One day I'll go up. One day I'll take flight.

Wasting Time

Time is a funny thing.

Back in July, I wrote another time-related Turtle Thought titled Procrastination. At the time, it was probably the most heartfelt thing I had up on my blog. Since then, I've learned to be more emotionally charged with my posts. Particularly my thoughts. Sometimes I look at my older and newer posts, and depending on which ones I grab, I see certain points of growth, fall, and plateau. And all I can think is: imagine what will happen with more time.
Time is just...everywhere.
I've written about it before, I am again, and I will yet again.
Time, in a way, dictates every moment of our lives. Yet it remains so difficult to keep up. Running late is such a common thing, we end up pushing ourselves to attempt to stay ahead of time. Though, that really isn't possible. If it's 5:30 then it's 5:30. It doesn't matter if you're supposed to be somewhere by 6:00, and you're there by 5:30, that's still a whole half hour doing nothing but waiting. So in a way, you're wasting time. But in a more obvious way, waiting til the last minute to get ready is still wasting time. However, you could always argue that you were doing something even more important, thus the event itself is wasting time. Well then, what's important? School? Work? What about leisure time? Resting? Communication? What if none of these things are important? So then, we'd constantly be wasting time.
We are. Everything we do, everything we say, all our effort and struggle, could one day mean nothing. And if we're lucky, we may be able to start something, and one day in a century or two be underappreciated in history classes. All of this, will one day poof. So yes, we are wasting time. We always are, because what else is there to do? But then, is it particularly a bad thing?
If you "waste" your life away, doing something you love, what does it matter then? Even dedicating your days to things considered productive, you'll still die one day with a limited impact. Wouldn't you rather enjoy this time you're tossing away?
Honestly, this is a similar point to the one I made in Existing, another Thought. This could even be seen as a sort of extension to it. I just find it ridiculous how so many people attempt to tell you how to live your life, when really, nothing you do really matters in the end. Nothing anyone says is really all that important to you unless you let be. What you do yourself is only as only as important as you make it. So then, is it really wasting time to lie back and relax? If that's what makes you happy, go for it. If you have a big dream that you're willing to work hard and strive for, aim for it. So what if you're wasting time? In your eyes, it's wasting time wisely, isn't it?

Picture Prompt: Person

"Hush, hush," says the small girl with white hair. 

Her lips curl under the lipstick she wears.

Cheekily, she smiles, "Shh! Stay still!"

Watch her then, see what she will.

She bats her big, brown eyes. "Don't come."

Like that, you and the ground, she darts away from.

Picture Prompt: Stacked

Colors and shapes, on each other they stand. Three levels stacked, for together they can.

Poem Prompt: Substitute

I'm not what you want,

I'm not what you need.

I'm not enough,

I'm not it.

I know, I've been told. 

But I'm still here--

I always am,

always have, always will be.

Even if I'm never your first choice--

or second or third or fourth--

I know that eventually,

in your time of need,

you'll turn to me and I can comfort you.

And that's more than enough for me.

Though you won't return.

You'll take what you want and leave

without even looking back.

I know that I could never be enough

even if I tried--yes I've tried--

so please, take what you need,

move on.

I'll be satisfied.

And I can only hope that you are too.

Poem Prompts: Hooded

Now I myself

don't see me as anything special.

How could I? When I'm in

 the same position as you.

All the other children

that do this too.

And I'm just lucky that my life

has taken root somewhere.

I've gone up and down 

and inhaled the coastal airs.

My own life covers

what won't be touched by some.

Those who wouldn't be thankful

for something like this.

And even if I don't have my own

place to call my hood, just know

I'm breathing in the winds of worries.

Hooded, unfazed, and cozy.

I'm strolling down the Earth real slow,

taking trips to all my homes.

A smile's on my face, you know me

Hooded, unfazed, and cozy.

Effort

Let's talk about effort.
The very basis of everything really. No effort, no work. No work, no results. Honestly though, as I say this, it honestly isn't all that true. Personally, I like to maintain this "all or nothing" attitude. It's why I build such hectic schedules and push myself so far. Deep down, I know that if I stick with it and put forth enough effort, I could easily get through all of it just fine. As of late especially, I've been really good with achieving what I want and getting more done. Some days I don't feel my best, and so I don't give my ultimate best everyday. However, the truth is that, I give the best that I can give that day. If I'm feeling dazed and slower, I'll still give it my all, but it'll still be worse than if I'd done it on a better day. I still manage to feel proud of myself when I can check off everything on my to-do list as being done or started.
All that aside, no effort doesn't necessarily mean no work. You can still do work without putting your heart and soul into it. A lot of the things we do as humans are done without us pouring out out love. Doesn't mean that we don't do them or that they're less important. It just means that we'll probably get the same results with half the amount of effort. Though, I find that focusing in on what you're doing and working to complete your task does keep your mind busy and motivated. While it's easy to allow day to day tasks slip between your fingertips, staying in the moment can help build your work ethic.
Now, concerning work whose results are completely dependent on your effort. You now have to work for exactly what you want. You can't skid it or else the results skid as well. These ordeals are made easier with an already established work ethic and goal-orientated mind. Even if you struggle to finish something, you have to put in the effort and get it done. A lesson I've been drilling into my head with this blog and my stories.
Write if you want others to read. They're not going to go through thin air, you have to sit down and make it. Nobody's reading? Then advertise it. Do your best to get the word out, and hope people pay attention and check it out. And most of all, if this really is a passion, then don't let the numbers discourage you. You may look at them, toss them aside, then open up a new page, and type. Why? Because A+ for effort. Even if that A+ doesn't come immediately, eventually it will. Maybe more traction, or money, or whatever else is in your path. If you put in the work, you'll be pleased to see what comes out in the end.

Picture Prompt: Colors

Colors floating above the horizon, welcoming the sun this morning yet again

Ninth Lovely

Knock-knock.
Slowly, the chipped white painted door creaked open. Not enough for me to come in, just for a sly brown eye to peak out. The door shut right back, pushing against my hand and I heard a small click. I paused, then knocked again. This time, all I got was an aloof "hello?"
Frustrated, I dived for the doorknob. Despite my shaking, it stood firm and instead I got yet another "hello?" This time, more impatient and demanding. It irritated me. I closed my eyes, looked downward and crossed my arms.
"Open the door," I called.
In return, a chipped, "No."
"I said open the door."
"And I said no."
"Gora." I dug my fingernails into my arms and clenched my jaw.
"What're you gonna do?" he teased. I could hear hints of laughter in his voice. "Spank me? Break down the door? I'm an adult, old man. That's assault."
"You are sixteen."
"So?"
I took a deep breath. The same excuse he always used. Sure, adulthood was coming soon, but it wasn't here yet. He was still a child, my child. And with the way he was acting, I prayed that adulthood wasn't coming that soon. "Gora."
He snorted. "Yes, because saying my name over and over will make a difference."
"Speak!" I blurted out. In the moment, I felt so ignored and overpowered, I said whatever came to mind. It shut him up. For about a minute, Gora didn't utter a single sarcastic remark. "I said speak, Gora. Obviously, you don't want to listen to me. So why don't I shut up and listen to you?"
I heard his hands press up against the door and saw it nudge slightly closer. He hesitated, then cried out, "You won't. Just go away." His voice shook and the door rattled. I remained quiet and stubbornly stood there. There I stood, for a minute. Two minutes. Five minutes. Ten. Twenty.
Glancing up at the clock hanging over the corridor bathroom, I was there for a little over half an hour. Finally, the doorknob turned. The door opened once more, and this time I saw all of Gora. Thin, swollen eyes, towering over me, he halfheartedly glared at me. "You're still here." I gave him a small nod. He sighed, "Look, what do you even want from me?"
I hesitated to open my mouth. But when I looked up at my son's face and the tear stained cheeks he sported, my discipline fizzled. "What's going on?" I hastily asked. "Are you stressed?"
Gora's eyes widened and brought on an uncomfortable smile. "Stress? Ooh boy, my middle name."
Carefully, I put a hand on his shoulder. It calmed him down a bit so I lowered my voice to just over a whisper. "Why?" His eyes avoided me. Just past his face, I caught sight of a rainbow blanket Kutu had bought him when he was little. Seeing it proudly hung up in his room, I had to fight the smile that crept up on me. "Gora?"
His eyes flickered. "I just..." As he struggled to continue, I noticed a small blush on his face.
"Is it a person?"
He scrunched up his face, "Kind of..." My gaze returned to the blanket. Around it, there were little rainbow clips pinned up around it. There was a picture there too. Though, I couldn't see it clearly. So I squinted at it, trying to make out the photo. Gora caught me and snapped, "What're you looking at?"
My lips tightened. "May I come in?"
"No need." His whole demeanor shifted. Slapping my hand away, he backed into his room and closed the door a little more. "I don't want you prying into my personal life."
"I'm not trying to pry, I just--"
"Well that's what you're doing!" Gora's gaze was like a pair of daggers, daring me to make a move. I didn't. He huffed and tried to close the door.
However, I stuck my arm in and held it open. I pleaded with him, "Gora, please... I just want to help." He continued to glare at me, but I saw a small lip quiver. "I know it's all been hard. The moves, Couro, my work, Kutu--"
"Shut up." Dire mistake. The anger, grief, sympathy--everything--vanished. Gora looked down at me with apathetic eyes. "Just shut the hell up."
"Gora--"
"Momma actually understood. Unlike your pathetic ass, she understood." I desperately searched for a response, but came out empty handed. Gora smirked, "What is that too much? Good." With that, he shut the door and I heard a small click.

Eighth Lovely

About a week into the school year, Couro came home running. As soon as I opened the front door, my daughter ran up to me, wrapping her arms around my waist. She looked up at me with a light in her eyes, jumping up and down excitedly. I managed to carry her inside and left the door unlocked for Gora to slip in. I sat her down and looked at her as she struggled to get the words out.
Finally, a stream of words just poured out of her, "Daddy, there's this kid in my class who's a little funny looking and his name is Aidan. When I said that though, Ms. Gardener yelled at me for being mean. I wasn't trying to be mean, Aidan's really nice. He just has a funny face so I said so. And I started crying because Ms. Gardener kept saying I was being mean." 
"Well--"
"And, and, and," she continued. Her hands were flapping as she rushed to say everything on her mind. "Aidan saw me crying and he asked me why. And I asked him if I was mean to him. And he said that people have said worse about his face and that he knew I wasn't trying to be mean. So I asked him if it hurt him, and he said a little bit. We then talked a bit and he said he really really really likes this book series called First Up and he has all of the books except for the last three. Can we go out and buy them for him? I don't want him to think I'm mean."
"He doesn't--"
"Aidan's really nice and he's been talking to me all week. He hugs me and he's really tall but he's still in fourth grade and says he's eight too. He even says his birthday is after mine, so I should be older, but he's probably as tall as you, Daddy. I don't really mind his face when I look at him. I don't really know why I said it's funny either, I just said what I saw. He has brown skin with white patches all over and on his face and neck and left arm there are browner and black spots. He says he was born with vitigo and was burned two years ago. I asked what it feels like to be burned and he said after a moment of pain it doesn't really feel like anything."
She remained quiet for a minute, but I cautiously waited for her to start back up. "...Couro?"
"Yes, Daddy?"
"Anything else you want to add before I speak?"
She put her small finger on her lip and thought. Under her hand, I saw a small blush as she added, "Uh, Aidan's hands are really soft. Even the burned one. And he's really funny. You should meet him, you'd like him."
"Aww." I turned and saw Gora leaning on the wall behind me and snickering. "Does she like him? How cute." Couro was now beat red and she looked up at her brother and pouted. "I remember my first crush. Ah, such innocent times."
Frustrated, Couro yelled, "I do not like him! Crushes are gross!" At that, Gora mockingly laughed and slipped away into the shadows of the hallway.
I looked at Couro, an angry, flustered, confused little girl. Gently, I brushed my fingers through her black coily hair. "Crushes are perfectly normal, y'know." She looked up at me, only half believing. "They happen to everyone. Even I, your forty-year-old father, still get crushes. It's natural. Just, don't rush into anything, and I'd prefer you keep me posted, alright?" After a moment, she nodded. "Thank you. Also, I believe the word you were look for was vitiligo. He has lighter patches of skin all over? Then yeah, not vitigo. And the thing about his face...that was kind of mean, sweetie. I know you didn't intend to hurt him, and I know he forgave you, but you can't just say those kinds of things about people. You need to be careful."
Couro scrunched her eyebrows together and whined, "But Gora said it! He saw Aidan the other day while dropping me and said he has a 'fucked up face.' I thought it sounded rude and didn't know what it meant, so I said 'funny' instead."
I blinked. "He said what."
"He said he has a 'fu-'"
"Don't repeat that. That is beyond rude and Gora and I are having a long conversation. You, little missy, watch your mouth and treat this Aidan kid well, understood?"
"Yes, sorry."
"You're alright," I patted her head and stood up. "I'll come explain that word later. For now, go and take care of your homework." Nodding, Couro got off the couch and scurried up to her room.
Instead of going straight to Gora, I prepared a cup of tea for myself, to help me get my head on straight. Last thing I wanted to do was go off on Gora. It was obvious yelling didn't really do much on him anymore. If he didn't understand why I'm upset, then he didn't understand. If he didn't understand, then he wouldn't try to and just do it again. Communication was key with him and I knew I wouldn't be able to pull that off when I'm screaming at him.
My head hurt. A whole week of work, and the day I'm home, I find out my almost an adult of a child is insulting eight-year-olds. I was shaken up, I didn't really think Gora had that in him. Sure, his face is different, but 'fucked up?' And in front of Couro too? It took downing the whole cup before I managed to tame my boiling anger. Gora had become so difficult lately. Always insisting on toying with Couro, having no respect, and using his looming adulthood as a reason to not care. It's not that I don't love him, I was just so fed up. After Kutu, there were some behavioral changes that made sense. I didn't really bother him because I thought he was grieving. But he's had an extra layer of apathy and mischief lately and I was so worried. Something was clearly going on with him, I just didn't know how to find out what if he wouldn't listen to me.
After a few minutes of sulking on the kitchen table, I lifted myself up. It was time to talk to Gora, finally get to the bottom of this.

Poem Prompts: Hug

This one particular word

describes an action

with so much meaning.

It releases a ton

of happy go lucky chemicals

so yes, science is on board.

Emotionally, it means so much

Are we friends?

Do they like me?

Am I being too much?

Are they being fake?

In the moment,

we tend to be too wrapped up

in love and happiness

to really question anything.

However, comma, 

afterward, 

our brains run wild.

There's now no end.

This physically small,

yet psychologically huge gesture

shall be played

over and over in your mind

until your brain makes some sense of it.

Turtle Thoughts: Trust

Trust

/trəst/

Learn to pronounce

noun

1. 1.

   firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something.

   
   
   

   "relations have to be built on trust"

Despite this, the way we use the word "trust" in our personal life journeys, there is no definition. We all know what it's like to have full trust in a person. But what about the inbetweens? What is enough trust? Oh, I trust this person enough for this, but not this. Sometimes, you're not even sure if you actually trust a person. Like, at all. You can spend years on end seeing and listening to a person, but when asked if you trust them? If so, why? Maybe you just do. Why? Because maybe they're always there. Maybe they brought you into this world and shaped your very being. Maybe because they ultimately have the final say on nearly everything until you learn to support yourself.

Parents, I'm looking at you.

No, this isn't meant to antagonize parents. It's the most difficult, stressful and uncharted job anyone could sign up for--or stumble into--and it's not my place as a teen to teach people how to parent. I'm simply here to point out something us teens deal with and rephrase it.

We want your trust. No, not the "oh, I think you're old enough to do this now!" We want your trust. And we want to give you ours. Actual conversations, ranging from talking about nothing, to rambling about our teenage emotions that tend to be oh so foolish to you. Comfort, love, security. The same thing we feel with a friend. Difference is, you're a guidance. You've been alive a few extra decades and can easily assist in navigating my ameture issues. So why not?

Instead of being listened to and picked up, so many of us find that you're not ready to listen to us. Either you refuse to understand that we're crossing realms between child and adult and so our problems will follow suit. Or the fact that we're still mostly undeveloped doesn't phase you and we should just grow up. No, I'm not asking for permission to constantly whine. But yelling at me every time I share a bit of myself that doesn't portray that perfect innocent child, really? And you expect us to go on to have a good relationship?

Really, this goes for anyone, no matter who you're talking to. If you want to build a decent level of trust between the two of you, respect and listen to them. Allow them to open up, share who they are, and never judge. Be a guide where it's needed and a shoulder when there're tears. In return, do the same. Share what your comfortable sharing, and avoid the "secretive and cool" trope. Friendship--or any kind of relationship--requires honesty. It's on that base that familiarity is developed and trust is established. 

From there, love--platonic or romantic--can grow.

Turtle Talks: UnOrdinary

Check out my podcast over on YouTube!

Picture Prompt: Love

The bliss of a flower growing towards the sky above, is much like the heart maturing and learning how to love.

Poem Prompt: Standing

Straight-forward and transparently, 

to stand is to stand.

Straighten your knees, use your calves

and balance on your heels.

A simply human routine.

Something most of us do on our own.

However, let's say I twisted it

and put "standing" in a sentence.

It could now mean

to be firm and steady in your claims.

To remain alive,

or strong to continue a conflict.

To rise above those above you, 

and watch as they wade in your shadow.

Standing is

a condescending word.

If not for transportation,

it's only used to assert dominance in a way.

Even retrieving an item,

as your establishing your ownership of that item.

Standing is

a condescending word.

Picture Promt: Food

Not edible, but never fails to bring a smile to my face when I see him.

Seventh Lovely

First day of school. I was no where near ready. Fourth and eleventh grade. That morning, after they'd both tossed on their uniform, we took our traditional first day picture. All three of us together. The polaroid picture slipped into my hand, and I took a long, hard moment to study my children in it. Gora had to cough to remind me that they had to go. Quickly, I sent them off--Gora was driving his sister to school for the first time.
After they'd left, I went upstairs to put it with the other eleven. I looked at them all, hung up and displayed since Gora's first day of preschool. Back when it was just a tiny, sarcastic Gora and my strikingly similar Kutu. It was just the three of us. Two struggling journalists and traveling partners, and their seemingly adaptive son. We barely paid off all our bills, but we did. We made it, and we were happy.
Then, Couro. Of course, I loved my happy munchkin with all my heart, so did Kutu. But...we weren't ready. We hadn't intended for her to be conceived, and we didn't have the heart to terminate it. I simply picked up a second job and work four times as hard at everything to try and scrap together as much money as possible. Couro was born and we thought we were okay. Postpartum sepsis hit us like a truck. The next few weeks were constant scrambling between caring for my newborn, guiding my rapidly growing third grader, caring for my sickly wife, and juggling two jobs to pay for it all. I was careful not to complain, especially as Kutu gradually recovered and took over nursing Couro.
Although, she never really got better. Not fully. The next four years was a series of ups and downs for her health. She eventually started working from home to relax her body. We managed to get one first day picture with all of us in it. Couro in preschool, Gora in sixth, and us holding them tight before they ran off to school.
Little did we know, we'd lose our Kutu just a month later. Her health was too poor, her body gave out.
And there I sat, five years after her passing, crying over the last family picture we had. The only family picture we had--my biggest regret. Four whole years, and we only had one picture with all of us. I sat there, my hand shaking as I looked at my Kutu. Her short, coily brown hair that refused to go past her shoulders. Her short, chubby figure, more adorable than she could've ever known. Her sparkling hazel eyes that pushed my to pursue my passion beside her. Her charming, persuasive voice, perfect for reporting and presenting. Her just--
God, I wasn't ready. 

How Does Money Influence Us?

"Money affects everything."
Sad, but true. Money does kind of dictate our lives in several areas. From where we're born to the opportunities we have, even to the way we view life. It does take its effect. Psychologically, being financially stable can put your mind at ease. Not worrying about whether or not you can pay bills and continuing on in life helps. Financial security can even be a little confidence booster. Knowing that as an individual you're able to comfortably support yourself is self-assuring. However, as one gets richer, it's important to not watch your income grow in vain. That egotistical, prideful, filthy rich person could break out at any moment if too much emphasis is put on making money.
On the flip side, living paycheck to paycheck can stress a person out. They become scrappier, more focused on affording their own living. Being so low on funds also affects one's views on opportunities. When a person feels that they can barely even pay for their own home or food, it's easy for them to feel that striving for any sort of opportunity is out of their budget. It easily traps them in a secure but dead-end job.
Nonetheless, the key factors for no matter what situation you're in are hope and determination. Even those who'd consider themselves dirt poor can set goals for themselves, work hard, and improve their lives drastically. Yes, it'll be more of a struggle to reach where their wealthier counterparts are, but it's possible when enough effort is put in. And, it's very possible for someone in the 1% to get too comfortable and blow all their all money. Financial status is important. It aids family members, helps achieve dreams and goals, educates people, and expands our societies as a whole.
And, the best thing about today's society, is that we can benefit from each other. Before the industrial movement, everything was about claiming more land, planting more crops, and selling more goods. With this method, the more one thrived, the more others suffered. There was a certain amount of land wealth, and you had to take to gain.
In today's society, we're more focused on technological developments. More experts, more inventions, more ways to improve and ease our day-to-day lives. This requires as many brains and funds as possible being put towards a singular effort to benefit the world. This, however, means more people need to be educated, freed, and given the same privileges others enjoy to succeed. Meaning that today, helping people who are struggling doesn't exactly mean taking from yourself, but rather giving to the world.
So yes, money affects us drastically. But lucky for us, how, has shifted with the world's development.

Money Affects Everything. (n.d.). Retrieved from https://thesavvylife.com/money-affects-everything-2/

Short Film Review: Water Lily: Birth of the Lotus

Water Lily: Birth of the Lotus is originally a Japanese tale, detail the birth of, well, the lotus. The short film itself has French origins and was directed by Alexandra Batina. It was released to the general public on the first of January(whoo!), 2015. It was later put on Vimeo July 7, 2015, and as the years passed, many YouTube channels got their hands on it. The one I watched was uploaded March 29, 2017 by a channel under the name of GCMeetup. This particular account uploads a lot of animated shorts and short films frequently. It's how I stumbled upon this film, I was on a little binge watching session and voila, I found the "movie" to review.
We begin with a man, most likely an adventurer, wandering along a creek. He's collecting little bits of the nature around him, leading me to believe that this area is unexplored. As he continues to look around, we zoom in on this large, pink willow tree in the middle of the bay. Between the leaves, we see a creature in the shape of a female. We see her connected to the water bed via a cord and she sports hair identical to the willow's leaves. She also seems to be completely cut off from humans and man-made items--she's frightened by a book and amazed by feet. So, based on that, I'm left to assume she's designed to be a metaphor of nature. Specifically, nature before man.
Then the two meet--instant connection. They're drawn to each other, and for a hot minute, nothing happens. They just take each other in and live on peaceful. But then, the man gets curious. He tries to discover even more, and just like that, he slips and falls. The willow girl becomes worried and goes out to save him. She even pulls her cord and breaks it to ensure his safety.
However, without that cord, she quickly begins to wilt away. Not just her, but all the trees in that bay and her original willow dies off. The man stares for a moment, slowly understanding the damage done. Quickly, he rushes to hold and console her. The two hug, signifying nature and humanity's relationship, and they die together with everything else.
This leaves behind a small lotus. Personally, I feel like this lotus was birthed not from their death, but from the bond the two had shared. Nature and mankind combined can create beautiful things, but when either gets sloppy, they can easily wipe everything out as well.

Poem Promt: Sink

A dip, a dent, a curve, a place

were droplets of water rest from their haste.

Everything that enters this basin

for a moment, will stop moving.

For most, it's simply where to wash our hands,

yet the object itself is shaped like a hand--

cupped, curved, and something's always in it.

A mother's hand to restless liquids,

able to tame even the rebellious drops

and crumbs that tumble from shelve tops.

Reliable to us humans even, see

it's where some of us had our first cleans.

And to this day, no matter how grown

at least once daily, to the sink we return.

Whether to wash our faces, hands, or skin

it remains a familiar place to clean in. 

Language and Gender: My Take

Here it is. My personal opinion. Not to be taken as fact at all, rather the humble view of a teenager.

I'd say not to mess with these languages. Any of them. Not forcibly, at least. Languages are already so flexible, they're meant to adapt to society's needs. So, when the time comes, gender neutral terminology will be used worldwide, even in a language as stubborn as French. However, the brute force being used to force it in, in my opinion, is only slowing us down. The more it's pushed, the more resistance there'll be. Something like language really just needs to be let go as the changes will occur naturally, for better or worse. The non-cisgendered community is rapidly growing, and the terms they go under are also growing. It's only a matter of time.
Do I support it? Meh.
I don't have a problem with people identifying as they wish. The only issue is how forced the terminology changes are. People have been using he and she (and whatever it is in other languages) since the beginning of time. So yes, it will take a minute for any person to get it right. Even outside of the words I use, there is a portion of the LGBT community that push their ideals so much, that it's delaying their goal. If we could all just calm down and let it ride, then I'd be fine. However, I occasionally feel like mere adjectives are being used as entire genders. Feminine and masculine are simply groups of stereotypical traits that I person can hold. Masculine doesn't mean a man, feminine doesn't mean a woman. While this isn't always the case, and there are plenty of trans people who I can understand their stories to an extent, but pangender(identifying with all genders)? Even if that were a thing, why is it separated from bigender? There are only two, so where'd the all come from? If you asked me, it sounds like someone felt a little masculine, a little feminine, a little neutral, and a little both. And, we all do. It's natural. Gender and stereotypical traits are being confused entirely way too often.
To continue on this point, a reason for the push of French gender neutrality was because of how the current structure affected women. The people behind this felt women were treated unfairly because masculine dominates feminine. Well, it does. Like I said, those two words are simply adjectives--umbrella terms for certain human traits. And think about it. The feminine stereotype is submissive, emotional, and preppy. The masculine one is strong, fearless, and analytical. This isn't to say all men and women are like this, but this is an entirely different concept. And in this regard, masculine dominates feminine. And though languages like French based their masculine over feminine rule on old social standards, so was masculine and feminine. So people deciding they're now a man because they act masculine are also following old social standards. Once you put it like that, some of the people who are fighting so hard for gender neutral terms, are simultaneously bowing to that very gender difference they're trying to eliminate.