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Foating land of the past

Writer, author, short story writer, poet, youtuber, blogger.

floating-land

Scattered letters

I'm going to scatter a few loose letters.
I start to think, what do I write? A few crazy lyrics ?Or somes normales lyrics? Or I take out those who are already confined in the asylum: my lovely sincere or empathy lyrics. On the other hand, in my eyes, my lyrics have become more important. I can't be publishing them all, because you have to keep them unpublished for various actions such as: launching them in contests or sending them as a collaboration to national and foreign magazines or newspapers, or simply publishing them inside a book.

Located on solid ground I pronounced the previous paragraph, now I am going to stand on a cloud with a verse in my hand and a hat poem to cover myself from the sun of reality, that star that burns the skin and crudely exposes us to reality.

In the cloud I lie down It is so comfortable and fluffy! I look to the sides and see other clouds with other writers, they have old notebooks and pens in their hands, and they don't stop writing. I greet them and they quickly look at me, to redirect their attention to the writing.

Above the cloud I see Rostribook. It is a huge house, almost a mansion, and its color is light blue. There is no ceiling, and I see all my contacts from the cloud, which is slowly coming down to the compound.

On the walls I see many photos and next to them are some writer friends of mine, sitting on their clouds. Every writer must have your cloud , if not, he would not be a writer.

Beyond I see my relatives, and my other friends from the patio, who are not writers, but probably readers. I doubt, because Panama is not exactly a lover of literature, we are four cats loving it, and if I manage to see more lovers of letters, I have to look far away. And for that I have to bring out the binoculars and sunglasses and see without the slightest embarrassment every distant movement. Sometimes I detach myself from my corporeal form for a few seconds and my spiritual essence enters through the device, until it reaches those distant lands.

floating-land

Social Media Appearances


I have also thought about visiting other planets, or taking my vacations in the past, two decades ago, but… Where would I stay? If I go to my parents' house: What would I tell them? I can't tell you that that skinny little girl is me twenty years later, they wouldn't believe me at all, they would think I'm crazy, there's no doubt they would think so.

It would be better to stay in a hotel, but I'll have to bring valuables, I can't bring money because its number doesn't exist yet, and they would confuse me with a counterfeiter. I will take my gold and silver jewelry and pawn or sell it. Yes! I will do that, but first I will deviate on my cloud towards the neighbors of the celestial social network, to the Simple House.

The color of the Simple House is different, it does not have a fixed color, I see a building just like Rostribook, but more colorful and segmented into many spaces. I settle into my cloud and go to my little space in the simple space, and decide to align and remove some contacts, which do not have a corporeal shape like in Rostribook, but rather look like very small triangles.

Suddenly curious to see what I look like, I look at myself in a mirror that is located at the beginning of the main office. I see that within that enclosure I also acquire the shape of a triangle. In a corner of my room, I see my contacts lined up, I highlight the contacts that follow me and I see a precise number.

I notice that I follow even more than those, then to establish a normal balance, I erase (with a huge eraser that I have in my pocket) who I follow, I only follow who follows me.

Immediately the triangle (which is me) begins to chase after ten more triangles, who do not want to follow me or do not have time to do so and I tell them to stop and listen to me, immediately they pay attention.
I declare out loud to each one:
Don't even think that I will follow you, if you don't follow me., unless you follow me. Yes, sir! I turn my back on them and am one hundred percent happy, without a single dark thought.

floating-land

Journey to the floating past


I return to the story I left behind: my vacation trip to the past. I will always have to keep in mind not to cross paths with her, that is, with me, that naive but suspicious girl that I was and that I now observe objectively. She is a rock girl, slim and with long messy hair. She looks great with her long straight hair, I mean her natural hair, but I see out the window that she's getting a perm.

After a while I see her with her hair messy, it seems as if she hadn't combed it. I hear her comment that she will go to the disco with her friends. At night I see her come out very pretty and elegant, with fine glitter makeup on her cheeks and forehead, as well as a fake tattoo on her arm, a water tattoo.

I follow her, because I want to observe myself and be able to secretly criticize myself. Her blue and light blue tigress dress shows off her shapely legs and a bit of her back.

The thick, black belt clung tightly to her waist. And she uses an aroma of perfume, called Coffee.

She leaves with her friends in a taxi, they are all very young. When they arrive at the Plateado, a place located in a shopping center planted in the floating land of yesterday, I'm already there, watching her get out of the taxi with her friends. They go into the disco. It is actually a university event animated with a disco, which will liven up the dance.

floating-land

My me from the past

I see the single girl (which was me) get on a bench to get a better look at what's happening: fireworks and people entertaining. Then the fun begins; trendy music and spectacular sound that radiates magic and emotions. That music that passed, but is still there, that is, the real music.

I see the first boy who asks her to dance, she comes and dances with her heels, executing incredible fashion steps, she has great agility and grace in each movement. I see her dance five more tunes, with the same boy, then I see her annoyance in her eyes. She walks away from the boy...

Then after about two minutes she resumes the action of the dance on the arm of another boy. She dances each melody, she does not rest for a single moment, she displays the fashionable steps and her youth at one hundred percent. I see girls looking at her with envy, the same ones I noticed at the time and thought were just my imagination. But now I see the reason for the envy, no doubt because of her figure, that is, my figure, because they were girls a little overweight.

I think I'm tired of watching her, I don't know what my desire is to take care of her, if I know that God is with her and with me, he is with both. She is not my daughter, she is myself. I'll go to the apartment, but first I'll plan what I'll do tomorrow. I think I'll travel further back, when I was a little girl of five.

© 2022 Venus Mary

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