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Can you imagine a procrastinator like myself actually landing an ideal job?
Neither could I, but it happened. It was not the hours nor the pay which made the position
ideal, but the benefits. No, I am not talking about health care or anything like that, but
personal freedoms, experience and focus. Though, it was chance that I stumbled upon the
opportunity. Yes, pure dumb luck got me a job. Even now when I think about it I wonder,
Why me?
Months passed since I started my first initial search for a job. I tell you right
now it was not so pretty. My ego blinded me. With each decline, my confidence dwindled,
welcoming thousands of doubts and insecurities; however, I kept on trying. Of course, my
efforts were a little lethargic. I was not so persistant that I went out every single day
spending every waking hour getting a job. So, why even bother getting a job if I was not
going to be serious about it? My motivation was simple. It was an anime convention my
friends pestered me about. I went once before. It was a lot of fun and I was looking
forward to doing it again, but as indesicive as I am I kept changing my mind about whether
I was going or not. It was, the least to say, an expensive trip. One day, as I was
procrastinating by shopping for cat ears, I came upon a store called Party City. I
recognized the shop for its usual discounts and neat trinkets, but I never really took the
time to carefully browse through it's merchandise.
Inside the store I felt like a foreigner. The atmosphere was a little too quiet
for my taste and it seemed a little deserted. It felt akward stalking those isles without
a clue as to where I was going. Amidst my search I overheard a conversation carried on
between a man and a young woman; it sounded like someone seeking a job. Was the world out
to get me? Just as I began to lose myself to my little theories of the government's
attempts to keep me out of the buisness industry, a voice caught my immidiate attention
when he asked, "Can I help you?" Those four little words would do more for me than I ever
imagined they could. I was never one to seek help or to recieve it unless I direly needed
it, but I really wanted those cat ears. I explained to the manager about my little cat ear
dilemna. Listening to my words, he held his chin like he were intruiged. Before I knew it
he began to ask questions. I was mystified by his curiousity and interest. The things he
asked me, school, social life, skills; he made it seem as if he wanted to hire me.
Believe it or not, he did. It was when he asked if I had a job that he made his intentions
clear. "No!" I exclaimed, unable to supress myself. A few chuckles were soon exchanged
before he gave me his name and a time to come back for an interview. I was so flustered, I
could barely believe it was even possible. All I did was ask about cat ears.
A few days passed before my day of anticipation finally arrived. Once again I
ventured into the store, hoping to achieve my goals. My steps were short and hesitant.
The closer I drew toward the employee's office the more I yearned to turn back. A horrible
plague of doubt overwhelmed me the moment that door opened - the door to opportunity. I
took a quick peek inside. It was a small room, three computers, one which monitored the
security cameras and the other two for who knew what. There were some other things at the
time I could not name, paper cluttering all over the desks in such a messy fashion. What a
cluttered room it was, clammed with three people. There he was standing in the farthest
corner of the room, the excutive manager Lu. The other employees went about their
buisness, glancing at me every so often. Stepping inside of the room, Lu pointed me out to
the only empty chair in the room. I suppose he could see how timid I was, for he was
fairly kind and considerate with his words. There was not a single question I had that
went unanswered. Of course, I was too scared and excited to ask too many questions. No, I
simply wanted tog et straight to the point. Right when I was about to bring up the matter,
he interupted me and asked me, "When can you start?" I felt my heart skip a beat. One
thing led to another, and before I knew it I landed myself a job.
The first day was more pleasant than I imagined it would be. In my mind, I
imagined my co-workers to be insanely cruel beings who simply sucked the life from you
whilst you waste away in labor. Man was I wrong. My co-workers were actually pretty nice.
I befriended a girl who started the same day as me. On top of making friends, I discussed
my little habits with some of the older employees. I told my co-worker APril that I was
planning to dye my hair, and that I was wondering if Party City had any polocies against
it. Her answer simply tickled my cheeks pink as a smile grew prominant on my face. I was
absolutly delighted to hear there were no polocies against pink hair, let alone wearing
ears or tails to work. Was I imagining things? Just to be sure, I later asked Lu about
it. He smiled and told me the exact same thing April said. I almost tripped over myself
thinking, how lucky am I?
Sure, I have many more little stories I could ramble on about. Although, none of
them could ever hold a candle to what it was like to get that job for the first time. The
feeling of satisfaction washing away every doubt and timid fear occupying your mind. My
experiences with the manager and the employees taught me that not everything is as scary as
one's mind may percieve. The longer I worked the more I began to lose my old ways of
procrastination. Yes, shedding that layer so many had in highschool. Oh the enjoyment of
acheiving something you never thought you could was amazing. If I could do it all again I
would.
 Broken Pink · Wed Sep 07, 2005 @ 10:07pm · 1 Comments |
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Twilight Madness: Through the Eyes of A Girl |
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Voices echoed through the darkness mournfully. The night claimed her mind once more, entrapping her soul within the confines of her insecurities. Humans, such fragile creatures whose emotions are like a disease. An incurable disease where insanity and faith slowly engulf the being into the darkness where they become just another voice.
The light, so warm and gentle as its rays played across her face. Her eyes, heavy as they were, lifted to the new morning - yet another miserable day of exhistance. It was quiet, frighteningly quiet, yet not a single peep left her lips. She simply remained clutching to the sheets, her forehead glazed with sweat as her skin radiated an innocent pink.
Leaving her room, dressed in her daily attire, she carefully traveled down the short stairwell to the main floor of her fairy tale home. Hands riding the railing with such grace, the tips of her fingers just barely brushing the varnished wood, she stopped at the very last step and took into her eyes the broken clock. It was an old grandfathe clock, standing tall, proud, and beautiful as if it were still working. Her lips were forever entranced by the frown which kissed them. Eyes as dead as the moon, and a voice unheard by the world, daring to gaze into her own reflection painted across the clock's glass. In it, she saw not herself, but someone else.
Eventually, she left the clock alone and passed the short hall to the kitchen. Everything looked so beautiful, for everything was in its place. The moment came and went, as did she. Leaving the painting alone, she swept through the kitchen in a violent storm, running out of the doors into the garage, slipping her shoes half-way on before she fled into the streets of the quiet neighborhood. At the end of the driveway, she stopped once more - the mailbox. Her eyes glimpsed at the metal peice sadly. Her hesitant hand quivered, fingers reaching for its door, yet they never left her side. She simply stood there, wondering why she even cared, why she even tried. There was, and would never be anything in there for her.
"...Give up..."
No longer able to look upon it, she turned her back to her house, opening her arms out toward the black and white world before she broke into a sprint. As she ran, the blured images of all that was around flashed before her eyes. Images, faces, voices drowned her mind. Laughter was all that passed through her ears. The faces which haunted her memories and imaginations cackled in a violent storm, taunting her diminishing spirit. Faster and faster she ran, a wicked pain shocking every part of her body as she pushed herself to go on until finally, she stopped.
The ground was soft below her feet. Looking down with those ever vacant eyes, a farse smile curled her lonely lips. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she fell to her knees. Grass... forever sweet and cold it was. The ghosts never left her, they practically clung to that savory taste of her pitiful exhistance. She brought her shaken hands to her face, cradling her head in her arms as she fell forward, as if bowing to god himself. Her please went unheard; her voice was dead to the world.
"Alone...alone...alone..."
Wide eyes shook with such horror as her sanity slowly slipped away. Her heart ached miserably, throbbing as if it were ready to break. She screamed, but as always her cries went unheard.
Tick tock... tick tock went the old grandfather clock. She stood there, staring into the glass, into her reflection, to that poor pathetic child trying to grasp onto her beliefs.
"Love is murder..." she smiled, tears threatening to break loose from their prison. "Misery is my only company... everyone suffers... there is no escape. Dreams are illusions... there is no god... there is no point to anything... no answers... so savior... no point..."
Turning her back to the clock, she retreated quietly to that small room of hers. All the lighs were left off. She closed the blinds, leaving the shadows to overtake her. It was cold and dark, just the way it was in her dreams... in her world. A few strides took her to the corner of her room, to the bed where she curled up in the pile of blankets, losing herself within their security until nothing could be seen save for her lovely dead eyes. Eyes which saw through the illusions, eyes which portrayed the world's beauty, eyes which opened the doors to her broken soul, eyes which resembled the moon.
Broken Pink · Thu Aug 25, 2005 @ 01:25am · 0 Comments |
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Fanfiction: The Getbackers (The Charm of Twilight) |
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Random Thoughts (Day 1...) |
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Yeah, its not a poem, nor is it a mini story, or anything like that. Today, I just feel like writing about whats hanging aorund in my little head. I watched Sailor Moon today. Yeah, you're probably thinking "Thats an old show" but I love it to death. I nearly almost forgot why I was so inspired to draw. now my inspiration has fully returned, and I have the eagerness I once held onto so dearly to both write and draw! Oh, I'm so hyped! But... I have to go to bed! I hope I dream well tonight, maybe I'll dream about sailor moon! I love feeling all bubbly, like a blonde... X3 because these moments are becoming more rare with each passing day. So cross your fingers!
*sigh* Don't ya ever just think back, wondering if you wasted any day in your childhood? True, I am still a young teenage girl... but soon I'll be eighteen, and I know that I wasted my life life dreaming. I'm not going to say of what they were, but maybe some of you already know. *smile* I think about it all the time, everytime I watch that show, it makes me wonder if I am wasting my time. Then I get up and go do something positive. Who knows, perhaps I'm just being a wishful thinker, a dreamer, someone bent, left to live in a life of the fantasies I create in my mind, or perhaps it just influences me to do nice things. Maybe I should watch it more often. X3 Oh I had a whiole thing of random thoguhts to type but Gaia was down earlier so now they all gone!
Oh well... until next time...farewell!!!! surprised
Broken Pink · Fri Feb 25, 2005 @ 04:30am · 2 Comments |
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Time passed as he dwelled on his thoughts. His curiosity was overwhelming. For every minute he wasted, he felt the world around him change. It was not until he heard that name whispered again did he open his eyes. He woke up to a blinding light and squinted from its sting. Once again he wished to shield them, but his body was reluctant to move. His limbs were anchored as far as he could tell he was on his back. The only difference he found from his earlier experience were the voices. Where ever he was it was quite. There were a few muffled sounds in the background, but they were too soft to make out. After his eyes adjusted to the lights, they boy opened them fully and gazed upon the mystery. His vision blurred in and out until everything focused. He was in awe at where he found himself. It was a hospital room, small , white, and simple. There was a television set hanging from the ceiling in the corner of the room. Large glass windows brought the sun?s warm light in, giving the room an illusive glow. A bouquet of flowers rested on top of a dresser drawer with a ?get well? card hanging out. He was neatly tucked away in the only bed to occupy the room, but he found he was not the only person there. Sitting in a chair to the right of his bed was a girl. She was slouched over the edge, sleeping. Her long, fiery red hair draped her shoulders and curled around her hips. He noticed her hand clasped around his. His eyes twinkled and he wished to see her face, but it remained hidden behind the folds of the blankets. He wondered which world was real and which was false; though, as his thoughts wandered he could not take his eyes away from the girl?s form. Something felt oddly familiar about her, but he was unable to fathom any memories. He admired the sleeping beauty until she finally awoke. The girl groaned, a little drowsy. Eagerly he watched her sit up. His hungry eyes took in every detail, from her hazel-gold eyes to her pursed cherry red lips. It was not long before she realized he was staring at her. She stared back and smiled softly, squeezing his hand lightly as she spoke.
"Joey," the girl whispered, "You're awake."
"Who?" he asked with a hushed voice; his question killed her smile.
"That's right, the doctors told me this might happen." Closing her eyes she smiled again. "Your name is Joey Miller. A car hit you on your sixteenth birthday; yesterday. It was raining, and it all happened so fast. I feared the worst when I saw you laying there. The doctors said you hit your head pretty hard, but don't worry about it too much!? The amnesia should be temporary." Every word that left her lips confused him. He wanted to understand, but none of it made sense. She saw his confusion and smiled. "Hey, don?t worry about it. I probably should've waited to tell you Joey; I'm sorry." She followed the apology with a kiss. It was short, but sweet.
His cheeks burned a faint pink at the kiss. He watched her pull away, and then softly asked, ?Who are you??
?Don?t worry, you?ll remember me soon enough,? she replied. ?Sleep now so you can hurry and return to me.? Her words were smooth and light. The way they carried; it was a spell she was casting. He had no will to argue, for he did as she requested and fell asleep, slipping away to the other side until he was called back again.
Broken Pink · Wed Feb 02, 2005 @ 02:36am · 0 Comments |
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It was a day I would never forget. My father drove me to Maryland to a ferret breeder?s show; of course, at the time our destination was a secret. Once we arrived, and I stepped into the large building my heart stopped. It didn?t take me long to figure out where I was; after all, owning a ferret was one of my greatest desires, and my wish was about to come true. My utopian wonderland of showcases and cages tickled me pink as I ran to the first stand. I watched in awe as the small creatures went about their business. The different patterns, colors, and sizes; I was bedazzled by it all. Just as I slowly lost myself in a dreamy daze I heard my father call me to a stand in the far back. Excitement propelled my energetic skips as I hastily answered his call. Approaching the new stand, my jaw fell open. The breeder behind the stand was holding the largest ferret my young eyes ever saw. My body trembled from the excitement, and I eagerly begged her to hold it. She smiled graciously as she handed him to me, and my heart spilled in tears. After returning the ferret to his owner, she directed me to a large box beside the stand. My father continued his discussion with the woman as I dared to peek inside the noisy box. Unable to suppress my joy I squealed and jumped at the baby ferrets scrambling at the bottom of the box. Without hesitation, I picked up one, then another and played with them. The third ferret I picked up was a bit odd. I couldn?t explain it, but for the moment I simply took the time to stare at her. Her sleek coat was dark, tinted with gold and silver. My imagination danced when I took in the detail of her face. The mask like patch and snippy whiskers, it was like love at first sight. I didn?t bother to examine any other stands; instead I begged my father to buy the one in my hands. After a brief discussion, he complied with my request and bought everything that I needed. My heart sang, rejoicing in the merriment as my long waited dream became my reality. Taking her home was one of the happiest moments of my life. The days that followed were simply magical. I spent almost all of my time with her. Each time I saw her face, that mischievous smile always sparked a hurricane of ideas. She was my inspiration; the one who made my creativity giggle and dance. I worked hard; taking care of her, balancing school and my social life. Then, one day, I was faced with what I felt was the most important decision I would make at that time of my life. My mother loathed my pet and would constantly hassle the family about her. As a year passed, the restrictions my mother placed started to weigh down my soul. It hurt to hear my mother?s threats, but to see my ferret cramped in a cage or leashed to a chair all day was more than I could bear. My fragile glass heart cracked little by little as I contemplated whether I would cave in or not. Then, a friend spoke to me about her little cousin who was eager to have a ferret of her own. After thinking it through carefully, I decided to give my ferret away. I charged no money, for there was no price that could measure my pain. As expected, my mother rejoiced to my decision. She spoke of empty promises and reminded me how much she loved me, but I did not want her selfish love. I wanted to keep my ferret. It was on that day when my friend?s cousin came to collect my ferret. She seemed excited when she saw her, and then asked for her name. I said, ?Her name is Jingles?? and then helped carry everything they needed to the car. Not once did I reveal the torment of my soul; instead, I held a smile. Although, it was hard when I gave Jingles my final goodbye. I held her close to my heart, and then felt my lip quiver when she lavished me with kisses. Perhaps my mind was playing tricks, but it seemed like she did not want to go. After handing her over to the young girl, I saw them off before I retreated inside my house. Like a doll I kept smiling, secluding myself in my room where my regret swollen heart bled with misery. After that day all hell caused by my mother was gone, and I truly understood what it meant to be selfless; however, I never dreamed I would endure as much pain as I did. It was not a complete loss. From the day she came into my life to the day she left and long after, Jingles was and will forever be the fuel that feeds the fires of my creativity.
Broken Pink · Fri Jan 14, 2005 @ 10:31pm · 2 Comments |
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Crimson Tears (Continued) |
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Confused and alone he stood there until a voice rang in his ear. The tears flowed freely as he looked around the fields; he saw nothing. Again the voice called, and again he searched, but he saw no one.
"Joey!" the formless being screamed.
It's cry grew louder each time it hollared, as if it were coming for him. The boy took a step back with each startling scream. Fear chilled his bones and rattled his heart. he continued to back away until he eventually backed into the tree. There was no where for him to run. The screaming ghost boomed its voice. He trembled weakly as he closed his eyes, cowering until he heard a soft whisper. The gentle nature broke the terror chaining him to the tree, and then he slowly opened his eyes.
A bright light flashed, blinding him momentarily. he winced and attempted to swat it away, but he couldn't move. Again he tried, but the result was the same. His entire world was shaken and blurred; he couldn't see what was going on. Voices rang through his mind in a confusing cluster; one voice stood out from the rest.
"Joey!" it weeped.
A ghost brushed the back of its hand along his cheek. It was such a calming touch. His eyelids grew heavy and it was hard to keep them open. So, he closed his eyes and once again fell into the unknown.
His body was paper, drifting. Only seconds after he closed his eyes he felt his hair ruffled by some gentle breeze. The sudden shift of reality urged him to wake. He opened his eyes and found himself back in the fields; though, the world was not the same as he left it. The sun was out and the golden fields shimmered as brilliantly as they did the first time; before the rain. He couldn't believe what he saw. The boy sat in the tree's shade and tried desperatly to make sense of everything, but the more he pondered the less sense it made. Finally, he gave up. He stretched out his arms and fell back, letting go of his frustration. Light sprinkled the shadows through the tree's foliage. it flickered constantly as more blossoms fluttered overhead. Though it seemed so heavenly in these golden fields, something dreary clung to his heart. He closed his eyes and listened to the slow, rhythmic beat. It ached, longing for somehting unknown.
(to be continued)
Broken Pink · Tue Jan 04, 2005 @ 01:21am · 2 Comments |
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