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Who am I?
Time is constantly changing me and helping me become a better person than I was at any previous state in my life. I learn from my mistakes and all the things life decides to teach me. I try to always be loving, kind and understanding . I want to be the best version of me and strive towards that, every day of my life.
Truth be told, I've had a hard life. Writing used to be my escape from reality. It's been over 10 years since I wrote anything and I am hoping this page will help get me back into it.
I look forward to reading your posts and hearing your stories 💗
A smile dances on the edges of his mouth as I softly run my fingers along the skin of his arm. He rarely smiles and to see it there, dancing on the edges of his perfect lips, makes my heart melt. He's the world to me and I would do anything to see his perfect smile. I love him more than the air that keeps my body alive. Feeling his skin underneath my gentle touch makes me forget anything and everything. I want to live in this moment.
It was an overcast day, the sun trying hard to break its way though the cloud cover. The blades of grass, all different shades of green, still vibrant, even though the clouds had mostly darkened the day. I ran on the grass, innocently captivated by my own imagination. I hadn't a care in the world, as most young children don't. I heard my moms voice yelling, "GET DOWN! KENDRAAAA!!!! GET DOWWWNN" I looked up, to see her running in my direction, still frantically screaming, but her head facing the road. She had fear in her eyes. It was something I had never seen in her before. I looked to see what had her in such a disturbed state. A brown, 1984 Lincoln town car was slowly approaching us. I didn't know exactly what was wrong, but I definitely knew something wasn't right. My stomach dropped in fear. I couldn't understand why my mom was so worried, but I knew it had to do with that car coming our way. The fear in my mother was transferred to me. I stood there, completely frozen. I know my mom was telling me to get down, but I felt like I couldn't move a muscle. Time slowed. I saw the car and the man aiming the gun in our direction, but I couldn't do anything. I heard a loud "bang" and that's when things sped up to real-time again. I started crying and looked back at my mom, who was quickly approaching me. She swooped me up, with one arm, while still running. I wrapped both of my arms around her and buried my face into her neck. After was seemed like an eternity, but in reality was probably just a few seconds, she reached a large tree, pushed me down behind it, got on top of me, covering my body with hers. There were a few more shots fired from the vehicle, before they drove off. After everything was once again calm, I asked her why that had happened. She told me that some people were very mad at her, but she would make sure nothing like that would ever happen again.
If you honestly believe I have anything to do with the appearance of Terry's run, no offense, but you're out of your mind. If you think that the repulsion of everything in that area is because I had an allotted 4 hours to complete his 8 hour run, instead of the fact that it's obviously been neglected by terry for years, then, with all due respect, I have to question your intelligence. To be completely honest, I probably did a better job, in those 4 hours, than Terry has ever done. You said last Friday that you don't doubt my good standing with my teachers, because of my person-ability; however, my relationship was built on the fact that I work hard and do a good job in their areas. I have been told by Sean that I am one of the best custodians in the district. I had notes of appreciation on my wall in my custodial closet, before it was under construction. Some of those were from teachers I had never met in person. You could ask the teachers that just came back to my area why they're happy to be back. They'll tell you it's because I do a better job than roger ever has. If you ask the others why they're glad I'm back from work comp, they'll tell you it's because they were completely neglected (or that's how they felt), while I was gone. Yes, my area might occasionally have some tape on the wall, or a tear, etc, but I would never, ever allow my area to look the way the others do. If you're curious as to how I have this prepared before you even came to speak to me, this is how: I found it peculiar that terry came into work yesterday, even though I had been asked to do his area. I told him that art had asked me to do it and terry left. It got me to thinking and my conclusion was that they knew you were going to look at his area and speak to him. They knew that if it looked like shit, they could say, "well, Terry wasn't in yesterday. Kendra did his run." Whereas if it looked decent (which we both know is an impossibility), he could take the credit. In conclusion, I do not appreciate you, or anyone for that matter, speaking down to me because I'm a measly custodian. I work hard and do a good job, even if it is just as a Janitor. For your information, since you wanted to tell me all of your life accomplishments, I used to have a job making over 100k/year. I voluntarily quit that job and am doing what I do, because I care more about being able to spend time with my children, than money. If you think, for one second, that I am unable to do something else, you're sadly mistaken. In case you haven't been able to tell, I am mildly intelligent and capable of doing great things. I CHOOSE to work here. Spending less than a month in the DO, I was asked to come work for them, in tech, because they were able to recognize my capabilities, hard work and ability to quickly learn new things. Perhaps instead of only coming to us in a negative way, take a moment to recognize and appreciate when we do well.
Maybe you see yourself as a dark cloud, but this is how I see it..... Others see the storm coming and they rejoice. They stand with arms outstretched, face to the sky, embracing the welcomed rain. Some might dance in it or run around, playing, jumping in puddles and enjoying what nature has brought, but after a while they realize they're wet and cold. They go to the comfort of their homes, change into dry clothes and cuddle up with a blanket. They still enjoy the sound of the rain drops falling on the roof. They might even occasionally go out to take in the wonderful smells that the rain has brought along. The thing is, people have enough water. They have shelter from the storm. They even have other people to shield them from the sun, if it ever got too hot. They have everything they need. If the storm is around for too long, they begin to feel gloomy and sad. They're ready for the sun to come back, so the flowers will come out and they can carry on with their life. As for me, I've been in a desert for as long as I can remember. I may have started this journey with enough water and supplies to get to the other side, but along the way, people have stolen every last drop I had. Even after I had nothing left, the people who passed me by, beat me down, threw sand in my face and kicked me until I couldn't get up. A few times I saw a puddle up ahead. I used every last ounce of strength I had to reach it, only to find that it was just a mirage. That luscious water I so desperately needed for survival was just a figment of my exhausted, delusional self, in hopes of surviving. After realizing I was never going to find water, I gave up. I just lay in the sand, burning, no longer caring that death is imminent. The unrelenting sun has blistered my entire, naked, dying body. My mouth is filled with sand and I don't care anymore. I'm weak. Too tired to make it. Just as I'm about to let my body shut down and accept my fate, I look up and see a rain cloud in the distance. Hope fills me. The cloud finally reaches me. Before the rain even begins, I feel the relief of the cloud cover from the sun. Finally...., rain drops begin to fall.....I've needed this for so long. I turn my head and open my mouth. I close my eyes and let the water run over me. The rain washes my sand covered body and gives me for what I have so long been needing. I want the storm to hit full force, so my parched body can finally be relieved. This rain cloud quenches my thirst. I not only welcome the rain, but it is necessary for my survival. The longer that cloud is over me, providing me with what I need, the stronger I become. After a long while, I'm able to get to my knees and crawl. I'm able to move forward. The cloud is carried, without its own will, by the wind. The wind may try to blow my cloud away, but I will run, with all of my might, to stay under the comfort of my saving grace. I cannot go back to the scorching earth that will kill me. I cannot be without my cloud. There might be other clouds in the sky, but none, ever, will feel as amazing as the one that saved me. The one that made it so my heart did not stop beating. The one that gave me a fighting chance to make it through. You may be a dark, stormy, gloomy, rain cloud, but that is exactly what I need to survive my journey. You are the reason my heart beats.