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Novelo Rectangle

Manifesting passion “It was just a dream, I use to read word up magazine with Salt and Pepper, Heavy dee in the limousine” that’s what Bigge said, and I felt every word no lie, because I too visioned my words being broadcast on the news like a drive by. It all started one day I woke up to a soft voice telling me to write, although it was a very faint tone the words were more powerful than sight. The only thing was I never seen myself as a writer, but I wrote poems to friends and family since a minor. As innocent as it was, I didn’t realize how those simple letters of expressions would course me to this today. Nevertheless, years later I decided to write a book about my life in a positive way. But for some reason I struggled with putting events into words, one might say I had more sense than nerve. Unfortunately, that was my challenge, and it was hard constructing an autobiography like a scavenge. That was until one morning I continued to write about my past, and something in the back of my mind told me it wouldn’t last. Of course, I pushed that voice further back in my head, telling myself I would get started once the composition was bred. So, I kept going, not knowing there was so much more to my story, being no quitter, I squeezed out eighteen pages of hoary. That was until I couldn’t take it anymore, and weeks later I had another vision just like the one before. Only this time I stood amongst a crowd signing my autographs on books, and it repeated like songs do with hooks. Then I woke up to that same voice, but this time I had to listen as if I had no choice. That’s the moment I knew it was more than just a dream it was my purpose, but between the desire and reality the apple was a serpent. Telling stories to make people feel good was what I always wanted, and the yearning to become something bigger is what my dreams taunted. A light bulb came on in my head, and the title “A sky called Blu” is what it said. Now I had a different point of view, so instead of struggling to write what I experienced I wrote about what I knew. I began to soar after surrendering to the awaking, and each word-built a sentence that were so breathtaking. There was a pounding in my heart as well as my head, that was more than just words which were felt but a tale to be said. So, I started writing about experiences I never went through, and what began with one sentence grew. It was crazy because I was just struggling to write about my past, and here I was typing nonstop with a new goal at task. From my life’s story which stopped at page eighteen, to gliding through sheets of visions as if I was watching a widescreen. Before I realized what was happening, I surpassed paragraph four hundred and twenty, with no clue of what I was writing nor if Blu would be trendy. Needless to say, determination was much bigger than my understanding, so I kept going until the full story began mending. It was then I boasted about the narrative written within months, and bragged about how I completed hundreds of pages faster than most. Only my arrogance was also apart of the story, and as tragic as it was my triumph became a missed glory. After putting in so many days of passion, I lost most of my hard work in a freak accident. There went my confidence and dream, flushed down the drain like an untold theme. Then life happened putting a stop to those vanished pages being rewritten, and just like that the once magical tale was restricted. How could this be, I was so heartbroken, not to mention my pride was bashed and soaking. Of regret of not finishing sooner, or maybe from the life decisions made around the lunar. Either way I had to keep surviving, while deflecting outside opinions that needed to be rewired. More often than plenty many told me to stop writing, from the lack of believing in me and the lack of the inspired. But the fire inside my chest wouldn’t blow out, and every day I held onto that dream with everlasting stout. Even when life gave me gallons of lemonade, I said to myself that once loud voice had to be saved. So, every year I revisited the title “A sky called Blu”, pushing myself towards what I already knew. This wasn’t just a story but a past life from the dead, a tale from beyond that needed to be said. Not just because it came to me in a dream, but because this was the way it had to be. The chronicle was recorded reaching pass many lives, just to end up in an aspiring writer’s mind who was no different than you and I... Be that as it may, I believed in me, even when no one around me could see. The years of being self-taught to put words together, were building blocks I kept learning while enduring my adventure. Every time I tried to complete the chronology, there was something standing in front of me like a metrology. Something so small but figuratively large in mass, in my soul I was certain these roadblocks wouldn’t last. So, I surrendered again but this time to myself, and let every selfish thought support my being like a bookshelf. I was happy to finally choose me years after adolescents, even previous to life chewing me up and spit me out as if it was convalescent. Even through all of my trauma “I still rise” like Maya, trying to convey a message like a messiah. Although I gave in to the dream many years ago, I still had to prove I was worthy letting go of being shallow. This way I could dig deep with thin myself, and finally produce to no one other than yourself. Now here I am passed young adult into middle age, reaching beyond every limitation set just as good as a stage. I managed to finish “A sky called Blue”, and I know it took centuries to complete but if you only knew. All the “no’s” I had to endure to make it happen, I hope I am inspiration enough for you to surrender to your passion. &nbsp;

Manifesting passion

Luckeymeme

Lakeshia luckey

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