Chapter One (Maud Pie Thoughts): It's Hard Enough...
Our world is the product of billions and billions of years of repeated plate-tectonics, erosion, fracturing, and many other very important factors. All of this may be read in my published book: "How The Earth Was Made". It was a bestseller all around the world. If you would allow me, I would like to read to a passage from the book. Are you ready? Here goes.
"Our world is the product of billions and billions of years of repeated plate-tectonics, erosion, fracturing, and many other very important factors". It really captures your attention, doesn't it? Though, my book casts a false impression of how I actually am. By just that excerpt from my book, you may think I am a worldly, adventurous girl that would be fun to be around. That is not the case. I am sorry. Instead, I am what many would call boring. This may be surprising to you, so I will wait... Take that in.
Now, if you are done letting that sink into you, I'd like to tell you a little more about me. My name is Maud Pie. But, you can just call me Maud if you would prefer. I know some people like to have their whole name said, but just the first part of my name would do for talking to me. Don't worry. As I said earlier, I have a published book based on my geological studies. I also have a book written at length on a lot of my poetry. Although, I use a pen-name for that book. My pen-name is Mud Pie... That way no one knows I wrote any of the poetry. Would you like to hear some of my poetry?
Boulder o' boulder.
Why are you a gray boulder?
Boulder o' boulder.
That's one of my poems... It really is a deeply questioning sort of poem; so allow it to sit with you for a second. It doesn't always hit people right away about what it means. There are more poems, if you want. I happen to have one of my books with me. Actually... I have most of my books with me. They did not sell as well as my other book. I was told it was because every deliverer that tried to ship it out fell asleep by just touching the boxes holding the books... I am not sure if that's possible though.
Ground.
You are made of rocks.
Rocks.
You are made of pebbles.
Pebbles.
What makes you a pebble?
If I break you, what will you be?
Pebble. You are a pebble made of unknown.
That's one of my favorites. They are all good if you ask me. But, if you were to make me pick which poem is my favorite of them all, I would pick this one:
P is for poopy that goes it the potty.
I is for "I don't wanna sleep" so I can party.
E is for EEEEEE that I scream when I play.
...Hah... It still makes me laugh to this very day... Oh... I did not write this one. It was written by my sister, Pinkie Pie. She wrote it when she was in pre-school, then gave it to me when she got home. I had it laminated and preserved specially just because of that. I keep everything Pinkie Pie gives me; from the smallest to the biggest of possessions. She is a large part of who I have grown to be at this very moment.
That is why I love her. She is supportive, jovial, droll, attractive (gorgeous, really), her eyes resemble Lapis lazuli in an untapped form, as well as an immeasurable amount of other grand qualities. At times, when I become highly emotional in my work, she is the rock that keeps me grounded. I need her more than she needs me. I need her around when I do speeches, lectures, or even book signings. She is much more animated and expressive about her feelings... Even going so far as to express how I feel without me having to say a word.
She is a grounding force in my life, as I said. I... I could not imagine my life without Pinkie Pie in it. I mean... I could... But that life would not be worth living... I think you do not yet grasp the immense depth of my emotions. Here... I have a poem that was never published. It is a very special one. Meant only for Pinkie Pie... I have never showed it to her... Yet... And I most likely never will.
Pinkie Pie. You are my rock. You are my boulder. You are my core. Like the Earth, the more layers you burrow down through, the more wonders you find. However, while the layers of the Earth produce wonderful rocks, you produce only more interest... Interest that is not rock related. Words can express how I feel towards you. Though, all of those words escape me whenever I speak to you. When I say "I love you", it is less platonic than it implies. I desperately want to express that to you in words and actions... But I cannot. You are my rock. You are my boulder. You are my core. You are all these things figuratively. And as such, I would figuratively give you my heart.
It needs work... But someday I will give it to Pinkie Pie and tell her how I feel. That day may even be soon... I will be spending a weekend with her at her residence while I wait for an upcoming lecture on geology at the local school... Maybe I will be able to finally tell her how I feel. I have to at least give it the smallest of tries... But, enough on that. Would you like to hear a preview of my upcoming lecture? I was told my the local teacher there that an uncountable number of children where interested in learning about the extensive process of rock aging. Allow me to start...
