The mist shrouded the mountain like a snake that is about to squeeze its prey

At this place, far away from human civilization, I found my nirvana—

fresh air, fresh view, and fresh climb

Trees stretched their fingers towards the azure sky while bees and flies

circled around their trunks, always searching for something,

maybe blossoms that never grew on the branches

I too, am searching for something...

Peace and serenity

Darting around in circles, the swallows performed gymnastics as they rushed upwards, plunged down in neat swoops, and then spiraled into the air

Grey-headed bullfinches sat unperturbedly on flowering bushes and fruit-laden trees

as rain lightly licked their feathers

A bird hopped on its feet and looked at me with curious, black eyes

I stood there, unmoving

A straw-thatched house perched on a grassy slope, its door ajar as if inviting me in From the west, a puff of wind lightly tingled the straw on the roof and dipped its fingers in the sluggish river below

Sheltered by lush plants and friendly animals, I even forgot that this was a tourist site—it was a comfortable home for me

However, my reverie was broken when my mother

and some crazy monkeys stepped in my way

“Smile!” my mother yelled to me as she snapped a picture

of me gaping at the mountain

“Oh mom, you broke the silence!” I complained

“We’re going down the mountain anyway,” she replied

As I descended, I took one last look at the startling Giotto-blue sky

and the swallows that dotted it

But before my we reached the bottom, several monkeys blocked the way

One monkey grabbed my leg and hugged it as if it were a precious piece of banana

Another monkey approached and reached for my floral scarf

I was aware that Mom was probably saving this memory inside her camera

As I detangled out of the monkeys’ reaches, I realized that

I was actually enjoying their presence—

that was until one jumped on my back and tried to rip my hair out

And I also realized that my water bottle in my backpack was gone

As I veered off into the craziness that represents my world,

I stole a moment to just breathe,

took in the magnificent view,

and found peace to take with me

But even with the flowers, trees, and other parts of nature

that I feverishly love so much,

from the safe haven of my backyard to the green spaces of the park,

I felt at peace on this mountain

I rested on the rocky slope overlooking the mountain,

able to gaze out much farther and stand much taller than I typically can

I enjoyed the rough climb upwards because at the apex

I could survey what looked like the whole world

On that mountain, I realized that what captured my heart about the climb is that once I reached my destination, I became part of Nature—

I was in the clouds,

the river flowing below,

the ghostly mist,

the twittering birds,

and the playful monkeys

Drawing ever closer to the

Crematory, my hands

Shook and quaked,

My stomach tightened,

My eyes watered, and

My mind—raced

With images of babies

Engulfed in those

Infernal flames, of

Innocence gripped in

The hands of evil.

My mother, beside me,

Was reticent, for once.

Her face was shrunken

And pained,

Wrecked with

Grief,

Disbelief,

And

Remembrance.

Suddenly, there were

Only a few steps

Before I reached

The pit of doom.

Three more steps.

Two more.

Alas, one more...

I thought of

My little garden.

The passion fruit flowers

Thrived heartily

With everything

In place.

Now, my

Passion fruit flowers

Shriveled up,

My family torn apart,

And my customs

And beliefs all deprived

Of

My bygone days spent

Poring over

Music scores,

Playing on the

Piano,

The giggling and chatting at

Marketplaces with

My friends,

The stately

Family dinners,

And my dream

To become a professional

Pianist

Were all swept

Away.

Inside of me, it was

As if the "merry stream"

That ran

Through was frozen

Or parched, never

Moving again.

Slowly, I forced

My mind to shut

Out the noise of

Our trampling,

The noise of people

Dying, of the

Fiery pit, of

My beating

Heart

And just

Feel

Nothingness,

As if to embrace

Death

Once and for all.

All too soon,

I felt, smelled,

Heard, and

Tasted

Nothingness.

Beyond the edge of the trees and silver morning mists,

the ground lay silently, and when in darkness,

bound to come,

the ground sleeps.

The air is soft and cool

beneath blankets and sheets of leaves and branches I could see

a bird's nest with small brown twigs, leaves, branches, and granite rocks.

I saw apple boughs laden with blossoms,

and a breeze sighed silently in the night air.

The moon is full and watching the land

with silvery, ivory light

like a big bright lantern.

When the sun rises,

the light shines all through the forest,

a new day begins.

Kindergarten

You lived just down the block from me, I could see your house from mine. We weren't friends yet, but my parents told me that you were born in Kenya where your parents converted people to Christianity.

I went to Sunday School at the time. My parents had a complicated divorce but my mom found comfort within our church community.

First Grade

Your mom didn't walk you from the car to the doors of the school, like mine did. I was intimidated by your independence. We weren't in the same class that year.

Second Grade

You invited me to your birthday party. I was so impressed by your hand drawn invitation and the obvious effort that you put into it, always the artist. You were worried that if you invited me I would only talk to Bailey; I promised I wouldn't. We played games in your basement, little competitions with candy prizes.

My family stopped going to church.

Fourth Grade

You found me by myself during recess, and invited me to a Halloween event at your church. From that day forward, we were best friends. We spent every spare moment together, running to and from each other's houses after school. Now, whenever I think back on my childhood, I'm drawn especially towards that year.

Tracking footprints in the snow during recess. Playing with stuffed animals in our bedrooms. Singing ridiculous songs that we came up with together. Doing every school project together. Any reason, any time. I knew back then, we were going to be best friends for life.

Fifth Grade

You switched schools. Went to an art school while I stayed behind a befriended a new student. You were still my neighbor though, your bus took longer to bring you home. We could still have sleepovers during the weekend though.

Sixth Grade

I moved out of the city. I was mostly excited for the change, ready to transition to a small town lifestyle, but I knew that you were upset. You gave me a photo of yourself, in a small frame shaped like a flower. You later admitted that you thought that we would never see each other again.

Seventh Grade, Eighth Grade, Ninth Grade

We saw each other a lot less than we used to, but our parents helped by driving us to each other's homes often enough to sustain our friendship. Despite the distance, I still considered you my best friend.

I realized that I wasn't Christian. None of my new friends were either.

Tenth Grade

We went to summer camp together. It was centered around horses, and having never ridden, I didn't want to go alone. You agreed and we spent a week together in tents, with no showers or bathrooms; cooking our meals over an open campfire.

There was a girl there, her name was Sarah. It was the first time I'd ever questioned my sexuality.

Eleventh Grade

Between the pandemic and my mom's husband gaining more control over my life, I didn't get to see you much anymore. I rarely even had the opportunity to call you after they took my phone away during our 4-5 months of quarantine.

I started coming to terms with my identity as a queer person.

Twelfth Grade

My friend gave me an old laptop so I was able to call people over discord whenever my parents left the house. With my step-dad's new rules I didn't get a chance to actually spend time with you, but we still made time to call each other and check in.

My parents took me into the city so that I could get more familiar with the transit system there. I snuck around behind their backs and met you at the mall. I deleted all the messages about us meeting up. They never found out.

I came out as queer to my school friends and my brother. I didn't tell you.

Now

I moved back to the city. You're a province away, in bible college, but now we can finally spend time together without my parents controlling me. We meet up when you're home from school, but I can't help but feel like I've already lost you.

Last time I saw you was a day before Christmas Eve. You drove through a huge blizzard to pick me up at a train station and back to your house. (in hindsight it was an awful decision, but we made it anyway) Before supper, you asked me if I was worried about Heaven and Hell. I never told you that I stopped believing in God because I was afraid that you wouldn't want to be friends with me anymore. I left your house that night with a bible that I buried in my closet.

When I spend time with you now, I feel like I'm hiding. I'm so tired of having to hide myself, taking my pride flag off of the wall, stashing it back into the closet whenever you come to visit. I'm hiding my religious beliefs (or lack of), hiding my queerness, hiding all the aspects of my personality that would make you uncomfortable.

All because I'm afraid to lose you.

But realistically, I already have.

My childhood best friend

was Christian. At the time,

I thought I was too.

But now, she uses her religion

as an excuse for her hate.

And queer people

have loved

and accepted me

more than any Christians that I've ever known.

I know which community I feel safest with.

The creature with the crooked leg was the nightmare of all who lived in Liberty Canyon. It was said that he drank a gallon of human blood every night as he howled at the ominous moon.

At every dusk the people left sacrifices to the dangerous foe. They would kneel at the monster's alter, pasted with the dust of meteors, as they gazed terrified at the setting sun.

There was once a story of a magical crow that would attack the berserk monster, but that story was now taboo, the mere thought of a tool to bring them to safety was too much for them to hope fore.

A select few still searched the sky for the aerial bird, refusing to budge from their seats until they were sick with vertigo.

But the bird never came.

The monster did.

Hello, Writers and Dear Readers.

Happy 2023, fam. First off, the newsletter is back on-point. Second, here's our first official vid for 2023:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=49-Zu8SLh90

And here's our Linktree:

https://linktr.ee/proseofficial?utm_source=linktree_profile_share&ltsid=8104e464-81fa-4351-9799-9d856358fd79

And

As always....

Thank you for being here.

-The Prose. team

I feel trapped in a painting, unable to wiggle

even a little.

It happened when I lost my identity two days ago

after never listening to myself and my own desires.

Always bending to others' persuasion

always soaking in everything like a sponge.

Then a stranger entered into my body.

My eyes has no fire, my face is colorless,

my hands remain motionless,

my heart swings to a stop,

and I am always looking

in that direction.

Call me mad if you wish, but life's events ebb in and ebb out,

never affecting me

trapped in that still

pose

and always wearing that expression of boredom

and vacancy.

I long to go to the outside world,

where Mother's homemade apricot pies await me.

Where there's the constant struggle of school, work, and relationships.

Where I can be drunk in the perfume of wisterias and lilies.

Where I can actually appreciate art from an outsider's perspective.

Where I can at least make faces and not stare dumbly into space,

waiting

for others to interpret my feelings.

Clank!

Now I am being shipped off to another place...

A laundry room perhaps?

Or a patio?

Or a bathroom?

Or a dentist's office?

Or another garage?

Or worse...a closet?

Either way, I am still

trapped.

The mutation of consciousness within the social matrix is often affected by dogma. Which can aid cultural evolution which breeds growth that assists in combating viruses of the mind, teaching good practices enabling knowledge transfer. Therein helping to identify pseudoscience, preventing the reproduction and distribution of ideas that discourage philosophic cultural learning.

©️MJA

i am not a fan

of religions

too much hate

is fomented

and blood spilled

too many people

subjugated

oppressed

killed

too many minds

narrowed

fixed

bent

delivering a message

not

heaven sent;

i am mystified

and joy-filled

by the

complex

magnificence

of nature and

the universe --

when and how did

existence

commence?

the egg

or the chicken?

which came first?

there is no answer

just hunger

and thirst

for knowledge

for comfort

too often

in pablum

found

chaining

a mind

and keeping

it bound

to calm

an aimless

tormented

soul

while

keeping all

under control.