The most beautiful roses have their cruelest thorn

The Journey Behind the Curtains

Mia Madden, March 23rd, 2019, 10:37 AM. Location: Home

"I am finally where I belong. I'm finally being able to rest. Out of serendipitous solutions established by God, this represents symbiosis. Scientifically speaking, one party is benefited while the other one is negatively impacted. But, I think I understand benign benevolently blooms like a flower opening up. One of the many definitions of beauty.

Mourning the loss of someone I thought I'd get over by the time I'd begin a new life, in a better place. Like I'm levitated by balloons. the city view, I'm on top of the world, and although I'll be in a building, I'm still able to imagine myself flying beyond New York's horizons; Wherever I end up, wherever I belong... But, I'm coming too far to make conclusions.

I told myself I'd get over him 100 percent, of my soul, heart, mind, and body. Like he's exorcised from my life. godly, generously guided me, after this marks the end of a new beginning, unimaginable. To the beginning of a new era. The sun, once again, shines down, looking down, as Its vitamins absorb in us. Glowing, suppressing the end of the darkness.

The gray, gloomy forces ferociously dominating my perception of mood, the bigger picture, to understand the dark days darkening of disdain. Only to exacerbate me, emotionally, will never go away.

It's like poetic justice to the scenario. Though changing my life in books, poetry, life experiences, writing everything down creatively, made me mark the era of something new. Something...humane, as I'm getting ready for the real world. As society seems to accept this new world of younguns experiencing experiences they shouldn't inevitably be exposed to.

But, with the sun shining down, it only shines on me and my work. The work I created for myself. With beautiful music on replay in my head, or out loud.

I admire God let those rays of reflection in this sunset of tranquility, bringing fanatical recollections of brighter days, as it beams my eyes. Sending such a serendipitous sense of the scene, sending receptors to my brain. I can already see the brighter days. The sunsets once more. Although I'm located on the other side of where the sun usually sets, the windows of the school across my house reflect on me.

But, I don't believe it's rays of a multitude of emotional peaks that brings a mere coincidence because of some other impertinent issue. But rather, a light of hope for temporary enjoyment, lightly insinuating better things you won't understand, now, but will be a part of you, later. Greater things, happier days. Even highlighting my creativity, specifically. It's difficult to explain. But when you think about it, it's a route of different nostalgic thoughts, leading to the appalling conclusions that should be lent my gratitude. Do you understand? You won't know until you see it.

It's like anytime I write near a window, or even outside, the sunlight shines, regardless. It's like It always finds a way. Poetry, art for everyone, especially for those who have been gifted with this talent. Such rhythm is a hobby. It's so satisfying.

...

After that poem I wrote in Mr. Hudson's class, I started writing again. I put my pen down, as my creative flow is on pause. Regarding the incident, there's still one thing on my mind. Ms. Scarlett mentioned last minute, "Sorry won't fix your mistakes." I don't even want to call her Aaliyana anymore. Daniel informed me, but he is gone.

...I don't feel safe anymore. I don't think any child, parent, staff member feels any type of reassurance. Disciplinary acts to all students and staff have been administered. As I walk in the hallways of my school, of the streets of my school, I've heard metal detectors, increasing school safety guards, and more security cameras will be in place as soon as possible. the fact being, I only have less than 3 months left, these measures will most likely take full effect when I'm gone and graduated from this monstrosity. I've been told every class has been strictly appraised every detail, every accurate detail, and anybody spreading any unnecessary rumors will be punished. What will they do? I have no idea. I mean I'm the center of attention for the rest of the year. Thank God I'm in eighth grade. What will I do now, since everything changed? I don't know. Next year, I'll be in high school, and this will be a thing of the past. But, my move today was quite unexpected. Armando's father who had moved to Florida when eighth grade began has, of course, heard of the situation. I can imagine he had heard rumors from the family and online news. He probably wanted the perspective from an expert who has been here since the very beginning. A perspective of honesty, a perspective that knows his son better when he came to the dark side. It was a simple request. I have to go to the coffee shop right up the street from my house. The fact remains Armando lived 5 minutes from my house, and a place to meet didn't need further evaluation. But, that house is empty.