somewhere on my way by Anna N. Schnieden (best ebook pdf reader android .TXT) đ
- Author: Anna N. Schnieden
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âIt was my dog, Ms. No WaterâŠYou guys saidâŠsomething meaningfulâŠWhat is the problem?â Me.
They did not say anything, Ms. No Water walked toward me before the meeting was over and said, âGood luckââŠGood luck for what? I thought what worse event could have been planned than chasing a dog with a lot of disorders of specific symptomsâŠevidently!! Next day, they gave us some clothes from 2600 B.C., when mummy making began in Egypt, and some charcoal for our facesâŠI looked like an ordinary homeless person, but that did not satisfy the seniors, we had to act like we had autism, and why I was warned âGood luckâ from Ms. No Water.
âYou! Skinny one! Donât go yet. Here, wear this.â Senior 3, Mr. A+.
It was a small signboard with the words that had only one meaning âKiss me if you dare!â Told you, it was the right place for me! They sent us to a market behind the university and while I was sitting there, I heard someone say,
âDonât worry. No one dares! Besides, you donât haveâŠmmmmâŠyou knowâŠboobs and all.â
AhaâŠWhat theâŠwhen I looked at the owner of the voice, he was a freshman just like me. I could not see his face, nor could he see mine. He startedâŠmostly barking, complaining about how silly the tradition was, how Ms. No Water did⊠so mean, and blah blah. After about half an hour, my ears were black and I needed to say something to shut him up.
âWhat major are you?â Me.
âProduct Design. Why?â The freshman, who later was known as Mr. Moody Be Good, and he became the best friend of Moonlight and me.
âYouâd go home to mammy, daddy, and cry.â Me.
âCanât. Daddy is in heaven with sexy angels. Mammy is busy with work and her psychopathic husband.â Mr. Moody Be Good.
âThen suck it up, and shut the fuck upâŠPlease.â Me.
That did actually work very well because he was gone. Sometimes, the seniors painted my face, my hair, and gave meâŠfake boobs along with a big yellow ribbon on my head, and sometimesâŠmost of the time, I got all-in-one made over. I was quite popular for my seniors since my first education of art was âHow to paint a dog,â and all the home welcoming week, I was very glad that I painted the dog!
The fingers and the colours on both sides of the dog were slightly off, and every time when the good dog was around, I smiled.
By the time I was a student of art, I had already transformed from a regular young girl to Bob Marleyâs sister, and never minded what peopleâs eyes saw, I liked being Bobâs sister and it was easy. I did not need to brush my hair or clean my hands after painting classâŠfor energy-saving. âWe must think ahead,â those were Professor Daddyâs words. I actually cleaned my clothes, it just hadâŠtoo many colours, therefore, it lookedâŠcontaminated. My seniors thought I was a maturing problem with unnatural sophisticated development!
The last day of home welcoming all week, I was told that I must not miss, otherwise I would be called âIdiot.â It was The Name Day, the day we were given a new name and the name must be named, based on our anomalous characteristic phenomenon. When I was named, my original one was disappeared for five years, and everyone, including the janitors, called me,
âWhy Balloon?â Me.
âYou donât haveâŠboobs. You donât haveâŠass, thatâs it.â Mr. A+, who was AKA Mr. Charmer Watch Out!
After the nameâs time, I went to see Professor Daddy; he was not only my major attendant but also my major professor. When I reached his office, he was reading something, so I made some noises by breaking something atypically freakish, an unpredictable clay-work, he called Art, and it was on the bloody floor at the corner of his officeâŠdoor!!
âOohâŠShit. Sorry, sir. I didnât see it. I hope it isnât expensive.â Me.
âNo, and watch your language! Ah! Finally, someone broke it. What do you think, why did I put it there?â Professor Daddy.
âSirâŠI thought it was yourâŠclay-work?â Me.
âIt was. Now it wasnât. And I donât need to answer the question every time when someone saw it!â Professor Daddy, with no emotional heartbreak.
âQuestionâŠsir?â Me.
âWhat the hell is it? That was the questionâŠHa, not anymore.â Professor Daddy.
âYou need to see me, sir?â Me.
âNo. You need to see me! I told you to come and see me when youâre doneâŠcrazy.â Professor Daddy.
âSorry sir, it was no way to get here without being caught.â Me.
âAha, I see, the home welcoming. By the way, I saw the bloody dog of yours! I have a work- position in my office if youâre interested.â Professor Daddy.
âIâd come and clean your office after class. You donât need to hire me, sir, itâd be an honour!â Me.
âWhatâŠyouâŠ! It isnât this office, dollâs head. I meant an architecture companyâŠbut, no way you can get in the office buildingâŠ.looking likeâŠ.What are you now?â Professor Daddy.
âLucas Cranach 1472, sir, his work was decorative.â Me.
âYesâŠyes, you like him huhâŠweird! Clean yourself a bit. Here is the officeâs address.â Professor Daddy.
âSir, I only know a little of draftâŠwhat else can I do?â Me.
âLetâs find out, shall we! Youâre a fast learner. Youâd survive Mr. Hardly. Unless you want to stick with your dish-job.â Professor Daddy.
âMr. Hardly?â Me.
âWell. He is a skillful draftsman with a veryâŠdemonstrating neat teaching.â Professor Daddy.
âThank you so much for an opportunity, sir, I wonât let you down!â Me.
âYes, I get that. Well, good luck with Mr. Hardly. Youâll learn a lot from him. Oh, donât stare at him too longâŠ.hmmmâŠbetter not at all. Do you get that? Professor Daddy.
âOâŠK!â Me.
Working at an architecture company made more money than cleaning dishes. We were exactly, as Moonlight had said, âWe have each other, thatâs all we need.â Sometimes, many times, we did not have enough food, but we were passing physical and mental characteristics and tried to maintain our sanity as much as we could. Since I worked for Professor Daddy and his partners, things got better, not much, but better.
First I was copying papers, sending letters and learning draft-plan. Mr. Hardly was a neat teacher just like Professor Daddy said; he liked to yell (reminded me of the powerful sound ladyâŠthe mother) He liked to let me know how stupid I was with his super physical surround sound systems! He did not want everyone in the office to miss a thing; I thought Mr. Hardly probably liked Aerosmith! He also liked swearâŠwords and gave me a new name daily; the most used words were dollâs head, roof hole, and a stupid cow when I was an actual stupid learner.
I did not enjoy being exposed, as I was not deaf and did not want to be a superstar, however, Professor Daddy said,
âItâs good for you.â Professor Daddy.
âHow is that super dodo sound is good for me? Iâm probably going to be deaf before my graduation.â Me.
âWell. Think this way. You learn new words for swearing every day. Heâs quiteâŠimagining guy. Donât you think?â Professor Daddy.
âThatâs just what I need, sir!â Me.
âOk. Heâs what he is. This is nothing to do with you. You learn as much as you can from him with your brain, not your ass. Balloon, there are a hundred million people who havenât
had a job. You should be happy. Besides, youâre learning things, which school isnât providing. Heâs right. Youâre dollâs head.â Professor Daddy.
He was absolutely right about Mr. Hardly; I had learnt a lot of techniques and how to think before I designed something. He told me, âA good designer needs an analytical brain, think ahead of how itâd work and how itâd be cleaned. Stupid cow like you probably think only how to make it pretty!â And that was how he taught me, Mr. Hardly also hadâŠintoxicating lover, Mr. Jack Danielâs, and every time when Mr. Hardly was with his lover, he liked to howlâŠlike Dances with Wolves, oh, with 4 feet downed. (About âdonât stare at himââŠyou donât want to know. Something to do with hisâŠnose?)
After my first year as art student, life wasâŠgetting weird and weirder. There were 35 students in my class and only 5 girls; everyone seemed to get along just fine including me. While I was in a drawing class, enjoying my imaginations, one of my classmates knocked my back with his drawing pencil.
âKnock knock! Hey Balloon. Weâre going to Drunken Flower tonight. You wanna come?â Mr. Cross.
âOh. I donât drink.â Me.
âYou donât need to. Itâs just a social time with classmates and some seniors, you know. You always disappear after school. They think you donât like them.â Mr. Cross.
âOkâŠSorry. I didnât think about it. Sure, Drunken Flower it is.â Me.
That was Mr. Cross who I liked talking to. He mysteriously had an unconventional uncommon imagination! He was an expert in rituals and he collected peculiar artifacts. He also had a pure, naked, beautiful heart like I had never seen, and everywhere Mr. Cross went, he always carried his suitcase (an 18th-century European-style suitcase). I was soâŠcurious about what was inside the suitcase. However, the Drunken FlowerâŠnightâs conversation wasâŠresponsibilities. The Drunken Flower bar was not a classy bar; it was cheap and built of bamboo. So many geckos and numerous bugs of different species, you would not feel alone, if you were aloneâŠin there.
âSo many geckos. And so manyâŠbuggy?â Me.
âTheyâre nice, Balloon! You see, geckos eat bugs and bugs clean up almost everything on the Earth. Weâd appreciate them. Donât you know? More than a million described species, insects account for more than two-thirds of all known organisms!â Mr. Cross.
âWow. ThatâsâŠstunning!â Me.
âHey. It isnât a joke. Weâd protect them and keep them safe! I donât kill mosquitos. Even though they bite me.â Mr. Cross.
âWellâŠnot all mosquitos are actually bloodsucking. But with some types of mosquitos, the females are bloodsuckers. Therefore, they are dangerous vectors of diseases.â Me.
âCome on, Balloon. Really. How can you kill something that lives long only a few days? Itâs sad to wait for quite a long development just to live for a few days, donât you think?â Mr. Cross.
âIâll be sad about mosquitoâs development, if youâre dead in the process of WE ARE
THE WORLD!â Me.
âDonât worry. Iâm not actually human. Do you want to see something important? Something I was born to be. Itâs my destiny!â Mr. Cross.
Wow, I was impressed by the word âdestiny.â That was the first time I was thinking about destiny, but before I was going to lose myself into my brain, Mr. Cross moved his right hand to his suitcase and that was something I had been waiting for quite sometimes. Inside the suitcase, there wereâŠhandmade wood crosses in different shapes, a giant black nail, a something he called a bowl-skull, which was made from a 29-year-old human male, and a holy water bottle.
âMr. Cross. What are theseâŠforâŠexactly?â Me.
âOk. These are crosses in different descriptions. It represents the generic meaning of âTo Intersect.â Due to the simplicity of the design in two intersecting lines, cross-shaped incisions make their appearance from deep prehistory; as petroglyphs in
European cult caves, dating back to the beginning of the Upper Paleolithic, and throughout prehistory to the Iron Age. Also of prehistoric age are numerous variants of the simple cross mark, including the crux gammata with curving or angular lines, and the Egyptian crux ansata with a loop. That why they are different! This is a black nail and it represents evil spirits. And this one is a bowl-skull from a 29-year-old man. Pour the holy water in the bowl-skull. Then place it in the middle of a room. It summons evil spirits. And when I see them, I use these crosses to stab them. Can you keep it secret, Balloon?â Mr.
Cross.
âAh, huh. I wonât tell a soul. I swear onâŠ??...oh, all those miraculous artifacts.â Me.
âIâm the one of Fallen Angels. And my destiny is to serve Lucifer. Those spirits are upsetting the balance of the earth. My job is
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