Godmama Says…
a buncha stuff.

Page One

I like to write. I love to write, actually.
At some point I would like to write this damn book that’s been gestating in my brainsoul for the past 6 years.
It’s an autobiography, wrapped in something like sci-fi (parts of my true story might be easier to believe as a fantasy thriller anyway).   
It turns out that really getting a flow with writing is something that takes a certain amount of uninterrupted calm and  solitude that I simply can’t find more than 20 minutes of per week.  So, I guess I’ll start making it a point to write for those 20 minutes each week.  I already know my story, I just need to get it out of me.   Sounds easy enough, right?

So here’s something that feels like a decent first page. 
(And this part, by the way, is 100% true)
Just putting it out there to see if it’s readable and/or makes you want to read more….

Once Upon a Time, pt 1:

I have always had a strange relationship with the sky.  From my imaginary spaceship to my childhood bond with the sun to my teenage crush on a certain constellation,  I have always had secret skyfriends.

When I was a little girl I used to stare at the sun.  We went on long car trips fairly often and I would pass the time by watching the sun.  I liked that it followed me through the sky like a faithful pet.   I would stare without blinking for long enough that I could see inside it, and wild colors all around it.   When I did blink I would be treated to a brilliant circular flash of color that I have never seen since or found a way to describe.  Just for a flash.  Something like blue, something like pure light, certainly nothing of this world.  Beauty exploding inside of beauty.  The sun danced around inside itself for me, putting on shows and keeping me company while the big people listened to horrible music and prattled away about nothing (nothing as interesting as dancing skyfire, anyway), obnoxiously oblivious to the miraculous  magic show that was happening right outside.

I felt a genuine  connection with that lonely fireball up there,  and sometimes I could feel it reaching its rays down and filling up my head with light like a balloon.     Some might have called that some kind of spiritual experience.  I just thought it was the sun’s way of giving me a hug.

From my earliest memories until I was about six or seven,  I was able stare at my skyfriend for hours-  until one day someone saw me doing it and had a conniption about it.  I was told angrily in that way that startles a child into fear that I was doing something very, very bad.   I was told that if I continued to do it I would eventually not be able to see the sun or anything else ever again.  It never hurt my eyes before that moment, but it started to after that.
I remember the first time I looked up and the light made me have to actually squint and turn away.  That moment broke my heart.  It was like losing my first dear friend, and I cried and cried.

For a while I still managed to sneak peeks.   I learned to look through the cracks in my fingers or even through the veil of my closed eyelids.
Little by little I stopped looking, but those images are literally burned into the deepest part of my vision itself now.  Sometimes when I blink I still see a shadow of that circular flash of blue,  and sometimes I can still imagine my whole head filled up with sunlight like a balloon.




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