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loveittwcolors · 5 years

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Love is the thing with colors

by Hui Kj

PROLOGUE

Queen Lau ruled the women of District Orange with grace and youth. She birthed the princess of the white void to be hidden in normalities, vastly unknown by the mass women, but simply as Au - keeper of the library, ergo the centerpiece of the hallways and the religion of D.O. There was no more war in the white void, and no collisions with what differed - there were only women and there was only knowledge of peace - although, Queen Lau was the daughter of the goddess Eve; the idealization of purity and individuality.

Eve fled the desert with her daughter Lau and walked into the light of the sky to be seen no longer by animals or the soon leaders of threatening places. To be of nature in single and to clone flesh and processes infinitely and with ease. Everyone - white, straight hair - pale orange eyes, and a hidden language parallel with the opposite void that was not found or learned - but birthed into Au with a sibling vessel. She had a pressing mischief that made her vastly different than her mother and the girls in her academy. This language is doom to resolution yet a centerpiece of creation for the time, and her mind has not been centered with tongue; ergo she stutters and the vowel sounds are twisted and prolonged. All the other women spoke a simple language of gentleness with no new concepts - but repetition and contentment.

The princess of D.O., although treated as a regularity and thought of herself as an average white, hallway student - with a special library privilege in time and having the distribution process as her job, and was keenly interested in language and voids in general right from her birth. The Queen immediately took action and cut her off browsing complexities.

Au could not have a roommate, could not have a friend. The only dialogue she maintained in was the library distribution check-outs, and the occasionally meeting with her mother - but Au, in the unknown of her family line - always thought she was in trouble with Queen Lau because she was the curious type - and she knew about some of the books that were in restricted cases in some orange storage room. This was mostly labeled and disguised as fiction written by The Queen - and not even the disciples or managers of the Orange District knew such things as differences.

Au glossed over concepts of daughters and sons, animals portrayed as werewolves, time management, weapons, plants, cloning processes, and of course - very vaguely and without literal depiction - colors. She learned of Eve and the garden, the Queen’s devotion to a God, and a great deal of lies hidden to keep everyone in the white void at ease. She sat in the back of classes when she wasn’t in the library - the bell alerts in the white hallways, and a vastness of rooms with white charging systems to maintain a peaceful aura.

Queen Lau had a yearning desire to keep Au out of the orange storage room - but she knew the princess would become more powerful than her. She didn’t need classes - she need not help anyone but herself. The Queen started tracking her essays on cooperations and she had a certain flow yet unsteadiness - ergo Cablasay soon to burst out of her, and she saved little paragraphs stolen from when she snuck in, until barriers were put up to stand private.

For Au, the hardship began - new filing techniques, discussions with head disciples - even though they could barely note the vibrant and chaotic diction spoken by the princess - more isolation from fellow academy girls, realizing royalty, and the study of a powerful God. There is another void. . .

The void of black was without comfort and deliberately evacuated from everything that is peaceful. There was no happiness, but only paranoia of foreign affairs. God cursed the male race and were left with turmoil and violence to be all reaction as the option till further notice. There is training, aiming to the falsities of possible intruders - domination and utter rampage if challenged. They did not know the kindness of light, and the easiness of gentle customs. They were not at war but were in treacherous, evil boredom, and violence was the task at hand to devote victory in every aspect claiming that duty and war was the skill to develop.

Yet, there was a boy: B, who was mathematically gifted and could foresee weakness in the cooperations in play from a dozen points of view. He was to preserve the boys of the academy and watch with alertness; whether they were a disorientation to the masses or if they were merely out of line in any case. The prince, B without knowing his royalty, is the security outline for all of District Black, and he kept a close eye through his technology habitat in the upper, surveillance room. Communication politics was at the utmost importance. The eyes of B was to examine progress by the students and to watch there movements all the way into their bedrooms - tracking anything abnormal, ranking skills, upgrading weapons, and times and placements relevant to scheduled drills.

His task got tiresome and B would surf the system seeking further education with histories. The grey bars of info, but the Ltn. above his shoulders - he learned an isolating unity of freedom when discovering anger was a demonic cycling, bringing the void nowhere near real progress - he wanted to be heard and seen as something not violent but pressing on the matter of intellectual appliances. Cablasay came to B; pure - hoping mindset of something else that could give him the idea of exploration and nuance of newness. The grey screens showing the placements of the academy boys, and the hallways - B typed programs, as a journal, in this language that was only recognizable by him.

The Ltn. found this data and had him briefed with the generals of the black void - pressing on the ideas of abstraction to not be taken seriously but the training and idealization of domination that was described as completely necessary. Little did they know, something was coming, and B was getting closer to the more than true story that would end this race.

Young B was lonely in the security room at this point - no friends and no new satisfactions; similarly opening and closing doors behind backs and shoulders everyday, marking actions, and making sure no one was out of line, which now he sees as the solution that is completely necessary. He kept his thoughts in his mind. Is there anyone else out there?

!!,//]->,`010011\-,/‘!! - (ZHUM) -

1. Kerna Serna ! CODE BLUE ! CODE BLUE ! ‘Go now Au - through that door - the path, through the door! Go on! Go on!’

2. ‘Go B! Go! To the door! We have failed you; you go now! You will meet her there! With heart!’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the royals made there way to the opus of exits, and to leave their home voids - the doors to be opened in the first time in a trillion years apart from the makers at the exact point of their creation - by God himself. God has snapped his finger and the voids have caved in and vanished. The only survivors: the spell broken, separation no longer. The hidden language, now to be explored and used in unity.

Criss cross, infinity landscape - eye to eye - yin yang - good - two doors, closed - silence - sky is open - love closing in - the affairs and mischief gone - they do a dance with their eyes - shed a tear or two - new animals - touch - lay down - blue sky - blue blood touching with skin cooling together then warming - some time - in forever - now, a boy: Kezay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whoah there, Life slave to powerful Time Travel blue eyes to the ceiling bed thoughts modern importance I get up morning injection resurrection for redirection the sky went numb inspiration at the dose vision exploration looking out the window vhuht ihez ghowienfg ahowen rose and sunflower configuration in my veins dreams I have dwell on some spectacle that I can not recall but very much breathing in my brain at nights alone with the light shining in some lamp post some attic breathing in shadows I don’t go up there but know the depths are worth as much as I pour into I don’t have pictures of my family or anything but love memorial words e whuihp zhum fhuorehvfeur where do I come from all alone in treacherous misconceptions the self indulgence is to seek something like stems on fire or a lake at a park the parks spark a dark part which I do so indulge in take me with you I want to know about this darkness and the light that reflects maybe the clouds take form and spell my name Kezay like a dream come true maybe the blue ——- And I wake up to the four houses gone now around me in a quick vanish as the sun a centimeter peeked and am trapped in a small room in the desert with only a tall tree in front. Why is my identity racing the evil I once possessed? Absolute Zero, again….

CHAPTER 1 - Think Yellow

Flutter fog-blur, and summer rain is halloween. Being that two sets of eyes peer and observe me (paranoia)_, that I can feel behind my shoulder at this moment, and they are not in control. The side-side pan grey flutter, go ‘waywayway from my window, and bother me no more while I am here in this desert. As long as the two birds sing, I did my best. The reel bought new of this year 1985 via operator and an entertainment for an empathizer viewer in a theatre, me a subject in the kitchen now. The sun shines.

It is a 24 period cycle, but o0o0o0 it is some dog collar, repath english. Row F5, the only one there besides a man up-top reading a newspaper in the control room. They are both at my suspicion and it is only a blur-pan that I pretend not to see, and it thumps vibrations in the kitchen or outside my house that I bet is their breathe or sighs - the Host Company is unknown, a random showcase to me, and they are not my creator, and control is unkown. The cycle is a relevant thought because there is recollections of the end of the world when awakened by my clock with a new scenery and nothing remembered. Two cats jump up onto the counter while I slice fruits and stare out into the infinite desert with the one tree that is quite lively but no gust, there are only a red and blue bird on the branches and something growing.

The visual sensation came from nowhere (yellow, growing object); must of been an angel that knew my dreams. *ZAP* Okay strawberry and banana smoothie. It’s not a family. It’s not a best friend. It’s a technician and a person at stand-by: two strangers with a disturbing gaze on me and my surroundings, a curiosity both ways. My two cats see without speculation, and are frantic.

Starvation creeps in and the yellow balloon came to my life and it asked how I like my steak (??) - the telepathy power mustered, ‘Well doc, not a rare education!’ And the wind picked up and there’s not transportation, I am locked in this house and am only with a window view. I go for my fix with my eyes, and the balloon untied to the tree breathed and I whispered to follow up: ‘anti christ?’ The balloon shrunk, out of sight, up the sky, and to the sun - and there was no answer. The boy speaks tragedy, ‘Give it time, fool…’ and the wind suddenly stopped and I drank my smoothie. No food, just smoothies every 00:45 after a new balloon appears attached to the branch randomly and always leaves off and away, than the smoothie all over again.

If I keep track of the balloons it eases my mind. As I gasp from the powerful life in my body, I am grateful - and here appears another yellow balloon, number 2 with the sun-hiss-roar congruent and white hairs on my head now derived. Curiouser as it goes, I feel powerless like my world is only hopeful when gazing outside the window, and as I stand up to go to the door: it is locked and I let my head hit the door with a all-natural dose of humbleness. The tree is actually quite beautiful and what a blessing it is. There is no memory of the second society collapsed for me and I was left inside to hide or I guess to wait and die. Two new birds fly onto the tree, and the sun starts to travel downward some and the color I found love and hope in was going away.

The birds make sounds. And the room stays the same, the day closing - this cycle is of minimal function and the breathes from the Outside of the huge desert bubble diminishes and the fluttering is left to one: the lady steps out of the theatre - and the man has had feet kicked up but now moving around - the theatre hit a time mark and I heard rattling; as the darkness overtook the night, the theatre is vacant, and I was left alone in a pitch black mass, and I am lonely which seems to be the idea - taking one last sip.

The cats are on the couch playing. I start muttering in a tongue - this is new, and now feel like there will be a rain storm or the tree would fall; the birds left now, but as I spoke to the ceiling there were withdrawals and I imagined being held by a figure that sort of looked like me. Then there was a knock at my door, and this time - in disbelief - there was a fresh envelope in the dark outside that slid under the door to be read right then and there on the spot - my legs frozen and hardly a breathe at all.

It read,

‘Perfect shoes for the job, perfect attire for the job, perfect but very much wished for tragedies in my repertoire, and all i want is to stop. all i want is to stop everything, to be alone. And if it all freezes i want the rainfall to keep going, and i want the people to keep moving. as you have noticed by moving, there are so many things. what will you stick in your pocket? It’s amazing right there, and breathtaking here. . .isn’t it? It is!!! And things are all right? no... right? Little experiments can get really needy, every little thing can insist on it being endlessly valuable. And no matter how terrible that is - what you somehow go back to - you can still look at it, anytime you go back.

And why would that thing ever tell you to look away when its only making it feel pretty?’

It started to rain, or is it God crying? Here we go….

Teheaih izoihlayzshun wieilhl naihet keiaill mehiegh

,//]->,`010011\-,/‘ (ZHUM)

CHAPTER 2 - Think Brown

I asked myself about schedule. ‘Yes, Thursday should work perfectly - see ya then. Thanks for today.’ She took her hand to my hair, brushed her lips on my face, and when she drifted down, away from our eye-contact, into the subway tunnel, we were both smiling. I was of a dream that destiny allowed me to weave thru.

Thru the crowds, how could I not feel this universe for me for now finally connected? If my beliefs are challenged than I latch onto nothing, find a path thru the people relevant to progress but with personal options allowed to resurface in a millisecond in a mode that is not against any direction at all but absolutely still in point A, and the millisecond steady with my surroundings accepted just as they are. I feel light, giddy, and open. If here comes a clown: oh, here comes a clown now on the sidewalk - messy hair, colorful rainbow clothes. You and happiness, me and happiness: the car lights as circus, and the 2007 world, the technology for memory // Goodbye now active, group wonder! I knew you were not evil. Do I fear evil? The parade of stardust souls are a productive circle: okay! As I make my way indoors at my apartment, my blackberry vibrates: ’I’ll see you Thursday. Coffee? - Ash.’

Incoming, surprising and unsettling set back that will require some learning; bad dream with a dark and unpleasant, morning outcome. My cat woke me on the floor, with terror sweats and yet a random craving to smell any and all flowers. The tv was buzzing an argument from a terrifying soap-opera scene with yelling and violence. I flipped it off and fell back to the floor with my hands reaching up to the sky due to the feeling of being pushed, pulled, and torn away from self control, ergo exhaustion from a long night of a troublesome amount of voodoo demons entering my brain and now causing me a great deal of anxiety and stress: I walk to the bathroom for a shower. Man, now my reality has been shaken.

I could not bring myself to look in the mirror, no doubt I was pale and deranged but the haunting shapes of body or objects is just too overwhelming now - the shower is running and the tile is cool so I let my body collapse to the floor once more. My shadow is lost from the light but paranoia touches my shoulders for a moment and shivers run around so much. My cat’s paw is reaching underneath the door crack, and then I get up and put my head underneath the water. What if all that blooms molded, struck dead?

My best friend Malcom used to say, ‘Kezay, you do not have to start a fire to burn your toast.’ And if we were to feed ducks he would try to swim. My life is a witness to flowers, and they are vibrant with power - beauty is not luck, it is everything and in everything for a reason to catch you when you fall. The friends I have and the people that have cleared my gloomy days with sunshine, just being who they are, is how glee maneuvers into a soul to be changed and different forever. I use to hang out at his neighborhood fountain park; taking pictures and all. When we got high and he was there too: he kissed me on the lips. Wuiehit iaein teuieh whrorieild?

If anything, the evil one is me. All wonder is there and here, but they mold together making them very bizarre and unrecognizable. My family is across the country, my old friends have new paths, and I am here almost crying, now crying in an overwhelmed body and mind. Maybe the world is waiting for me to make the spectacle, or being free is just freeing yourself - standing up with a goal in mind. Thoughts are glowing different shades, and matching them or latching onto them is essential - and it is just situational. I know love can happen.

The television is roaring laughter, and I was my face in the bathroom while the toast is doing so in the kitchen. I jot down in a notebook: ‘2007 Boston Circus: Prealien Spree, Opening night.’ I could love myself: the clown, clown, clown, clown….chaotic colors and terrifying confusion, but I know I am paranoid. God, smite these demons - show me genuine goodness and part the abstractions into a manageable design. I look in the mirror and my telephone rings. Maybe I will never be understood, but I know there is good. ‘Hello.’ And that is when I realized I would not fear the coffee scenario wearing a plain, colorless shirt and I would embrace the vibrations of the world and of my friend Ashely, regardless if the world was ending in a terrifying way - I have faith.

She wore orange and smelled like flowers: connected once again; love is the thing with colors - from nothing to something, from terror to optimistic spectrum.

E Whuiehp, e whuiehp.

,//]->,`010011\-,/‘ (ZHUM)

CHAPTER 3 - Think Blue

Outside the church in the year 1904, I am a woman - not a woman - a woman, or I love a woman. Her baby stopped his crying, now in my arms while the choir sings inside, ‘Glory to God! Glory to God!’

We sit under the one tall tree on the side of the building that is all on a small hill - looking out to infinite land and the openness is breathtaking and peaceful. The babe lays on his back and points up: a cat stuck in a tree, purring; not frightened. The baby makes a soft sound, and God speaks and reminds me how I have disregarded the lion. The Lord says, ‘Feiehgeur teieh paeeiuhteh, goeiuhdhn!’ I look out and up to the vastness of the sky, and I could talk back.

She was unfaithful with our bond years and years ago, and we are back together, now with her son outside to calm the crying away from distracting the ongoing service inside the church - but the baby still staring up at the cat, calm. The man I want to be keeps patience and empathy close - my selfishness will not infect anything anymore and I will be grateful. Pressure arises in our universe and life may be troublesome, but I somehow feel hopefulness in the air. Thank you Lord.

I whisper to the sky: zhum, zhum, zhum, zhum.

I hear: zhum.

,//]->,`010011\-,/‘ (RE: VOID) code 645372 (love, rainbow)

fin

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