The Rainbow Within*

Maya sat on her bed and just stared at Boo, her little black kitten that never seemed to want to leave her bedroom. Did he feel safe there too? Maya glanced at her four walls. She had painted her cupboards a warm shade of orange during high school which warmed the wooden floors all the more. When she had moved home from university just last year she had put up orange and red curtains. Her room was the kind of place people went to when they needed peace and quiet time and sometimes comfort too, but for her, quiet time was comfort enough. It was as good as sitting in a glowing flame, surrounded by God and all his choirs of angels, for she had religious bits and pieces, prayers, symbols and intruments scattered all over her room. It was the perfect escape, the perfect surreal realm for her walls were accented, defined and accompanied by all sorts of fae and mystical settings and objects here,  there and everywhere. Here room was art in itself cor she has painted her essence across it every now end then, adding to the picture, creating the story, one outburst at a time. When she needed space for mytrial things,  she found a way, every need was a new art project and each creation was detailed down to the T. It was her space. Her gallery, her life, essence and very legacy. The music she made in her room was oh so very different to any music she made anywhere else. Her world was her world when she got to be alone. Her drawings blossomed the strangest most beautiful detail almost as if he most inner core of her mind had externalised.

She stared at Boo again. She was amazed at how affectionate this little bundle was. Almost as if he was the perfect touch to the Serenity room. When you needed sweet bliss, there were his tiny attentive eyes jumping towards you the minute you entered.  He was ready to give you all the love in the world at any given moment. How divine that a little creature could possess such God given angelic qualities, and with complete ignorance of the world going on around it… Unaware and innocent. How refreshing,  Maya thought. 

These days, Maya felt as if she was constantly walking through a thick fog. Each moment was a surprise and she took it as it came. Everytime she gained an insight on her families thoughts, it was a fresh surprise. Every time she taught children, the experience was something new,  for children were unpredictable- obedient one day, wild animals the next. Her own reactions to every moment were a fresh surprise to her. Maya’s attitude and tact changed by the day, her own knowledge she chose to tap into, changed by the day. Consistency was quite the rare occurrence, but it made life interesting. Life felt weird. Always… strange… hazy and yet, in a way, she prefferred it that way. It was like constantly being surrounded by a multi coloured mist, she could never see through it, but there was always something significant and divine to look at.  As she drifted throuh the haze, surrounded by her warm comforts, looking within was done with ease, especially since it was her daily habit. Almost like a nervous twitch one had in the company of others. The beauty of what lay within, never ceased to amaze her on reflection.  Now that was a rainbow worth living off.

Boo was now licking her hand as if to get her attention,  bring her back to Earth and pull her out of the rainbow haze. Maya took a quick glance around her room again. Wow… she thought …how beautiful my world is when the rainbow from within becomes the rainbow, sea and forest without*

Suppose they did…

“Dad has to move back to Mauritius,  but don’t tell anyone, he hasn’t told mom yet”

It hadn’t hit her at the time and she had calmly put the thought aside, until a few hours ago, when Misty had asked her what she would do if their mother had to move to France. It was no secret that their mother had been wanting to move to there for years now, for she had nearly immigrated them all there when Maya was 12 years old. Knowing her mother, she knew it might never happen, but what if it did… this time? Her mind was going biserk at the possibilities,  she absolutely hated adjusting to any form of change… she hated meeting new people,  she hated looking like an idiot where she could not speak the language and she hated French above all.  The strange part was that her sister wanted to move back home from France. What was this strange world now consuming her imagination?  

Mauritius, yes, Maya could stomach the idea, but life with dad? Not so much… Money… Money always came back to bite people… she was tired of watching her rich Mauritian relatives constantly having to make changes in their lives because of their stupid money and bank accounts, this side and that. It was terribly unnecessary back in real people world. The absurdity of it all, harrowing as it felt, slightly amused her. What a thrill, knowing that life could completely topple over at any moment… From what Maya had experienced, a topsy turvy life always came with such fresh perspective, clear as rain one day and a blurry storm the next. Storm were always exciting. Especially with both her siblings by her side. The thrill of lighting striking and appearing terribly frightening, with the accompanying thunder, yet causing no harm whatsoever. 



Exciting as the possibilities were, change was currently unwelcome. The anticipation of how much of it really would happen would keep her mind wondering for some time, but until then distraction would be more than welcome, she had decided. She still had plenty of growing up to do until then including builing experience in many fields, attaining various documents needed for the long road to freedom and just being Maya,  confidently, gently, calmly- not just in her world, but in thier world.

Autumn Harvest*

She lay there, still, in the Autumn Sun,

Arms stretched wide and wings aside.

She watched her friends glide and go,

The time had nearly come to make it snow.

They basked in the last of their warmth they had grown

From sunflowers to Lilly pads,

Each one across the sparkling pond, aglow.

They danced from tree to flower to seeds,

to see which stock would survive all the breeze

They glimpsed and frowned, a quick skim through the inner guide,

To see which winter garden would most be alive…

In wonder and awe, the glory that would never bore

and warm the hearts of all the folk that passed by, 

little critters, trotters and frolicking bears, 

Pixies and whiskers and all things fair.

The clouds now looming she got up to help,

for her grand finale was never short of something felt.

With a flutter of her wings, gently lifting off the ground, 

She raised her arm and held her head high.

She twirled a little here, swirled her arm a little there,

And slowly the purest white glowing orbs drifted gently across the land, from out of nowhere.

The breeze carried them far and wide, not a sound to be heard, but on, what a sight!

As the day went on and and the stars came out to play,

she found her purest flower in which to lay.

Ocean Lullaby*

Maya lay awake on her bed, for sleep would take it’s time tonight. She knew that much because she had thrown the rocks in it’s path, or rather, she had allowed others to. Maya was 15, but 23, but 15. Oh, how the evening’s events had struck something deep down inside of her, something that sent shivers wildly running amok down her spine, up her spine, all through her spine, every which path they could reach. She had long forgotten what had driven her to seclusion… To art… Perhaps even to herself.

The jokes were endless and the supper table that night. “Maya this…Maya that…” She had never understood where it had come from, or why any of it was funny, but it had definitely left a dent, which seemed to have faded when her sister left the country, but here it was again at her arrival. Th mockery came from her brother, her father, the idea of “Daddies little girl” did not exist for a moment in time, and 6 years out of school seemed to have vanished. Just like that. As if Maya was a 1 year old child learning how to walk, fumbling about, falling all over the place, breaking all the precious meaningless things.

It was nothing like that. Maya had done nothing, said nothing, she had never understood the joke or why it only worked at a table of 5. But some mysteries were never there to be figured out to begin with. They were merely tests of strength and endurance. And endure she did until she knew she was completely alone. No one needed to see her utter disgust at child’s play. No one needed to see her eyes mimic that of a falling child.

Maya let the tides rush in and down, splish, splash, splosh…
All she could think about was all the people she would rather be around, warm faces and warm eyes, warm hugs and warmest words, but as fairies are trapped in books and pages, so friends are trapped in unreachable realms, and as the sound of the ocean puts the world to rest, so the gentle music lulls the weary child*

Fairytale Dreaming~*

Her dreams danced like fairies around the warm glow of the moon,
Her soul traced the stars, each drop of rain, a speck of new.
Swirling, twirling, swiveling til they reached the ground,
She thought about that life…
Which in a thousand books was trapped and bound.
Her heart only saw the stars of each night,
As the world around her fought to end her plight.
They had to keep her in their intended place, for only then was their little societal world safe.
All she wanted was bird and song, bark and purr
But they said no, nature was only to be a blur.
She wanted the sparkles of magic from hand and wand,
Tiny flitting creatures- the ultimate nature-human bond.
Silver majestic wings of stories told,
Floral dresses, most authentic, the only of their kind, more valuable than gold,
Sewn carefully together with silky threads only too fine.
Dancing trees sending whispers into the night
A gentle rain adding decor to this sight.
The howling winds sending rustles here, there and everywhere,
The glowing moon only purest light to share, if only she could this glowing golden gown wear*

Oh Look! Buttons!

I’m on holiday from creative writing, so here’s a random list of things people say that tend to get under my skin*

“Middle class white kids…”
We’re not all the same, don’t shove me into your closed minded box.

“Is that your real name?(Pascale) Hey isn’t there a scientist/artist with that name”
Why yes, and I’m pretty sure millions of people out there have your name too. Like omg. Wow.

“Why are you so quiet?”
Empty vessels make the most noise. Still waters run deep.

Pretty much any racist remark against any race. Makes me incredibly angry.

“Get over it/just let it go”
My world, my time, my devices.

“You’re talking nonsense”
Wow, that response was rather quick, did you even take in what was said or is your own opinion so superior that no further consideration is required.

“I hate *insert name*”
I’ve never met a person worth hating. There’s so much more to every person you meet than what meets the eye. Every asshole has his good side too.

“No one understands me”
They’re trying. You’re the best representative of who you are.

“You don’t do anything”
I do plenty. Just not in the same vicinity as you. Art must happen in solitude for the artist must explore her own mind thoroughly and in order for such to happen, one must be without distraction.
Also, I’m still trying to figure this life thing out. My time, my devices.

“You’re so emo”
There’s a difference between being deep and being emotional…

“You’re so cute”
When you’re 23 and you’re trying to find your way through life, cute is not quite what you want to hear, especially when attempting to assert yourself as an adult.

“Why don’t you speak French”(Family)
Your English is better than my French. Languages… Not my thing.

Well, that’s as much as the aggravated brain can think of*
Keep writing:)
You guys are lovely*

A Day In The Life of Goodbye Part 2

This is the music video mentioned in my last post ( ) and thought you guys might like more of a visual picture:) This is our cover of ‘Say Something’ originally by A Great Big World and Christina Aguilera. We didn’t have the best equipment, but the sentiment was there wholeheartedly*

And with that Maya packed the last of her things, said the last of her goodbyes and left the little town which has surprisingly formed such a great big part of her life. She would forever be grateful for the kindred spirits her soul seemed to have already known from former lives.

And with that the real adventure began*