Dreary Days of a Dungeon Slave

Emotionless smiles haunt the faces of the workers biding their time until they until they get promoted to bigger and better things.  As the children bumble in and out of the park, their faces light up as we call them prince or princess.  They love it when we curtsy or bow to them in recognition.  There is never a good balance of the number of workers during a night.  There is always too few or far too many.

There are so many people on this planet.  We are all so worried about finding our soulmate.  None of us truly bring to light the value of finding a true best friend.  To me, that is far superior to romantic love.  I understand how much happiness romance can bring, but knowing that my best friend will be there no matter what has far more benefits.  I'm not sure for guys what this means, but for girls it means getting to chit chat and not having to finish sentences.  It means singing love ballads to one another in the car with the windows down.  It means not having to explain yourself and having someone get what you didn't say.
The random "50 points if you hit a skateboarder"s or "dibs" can never truly measure the impact a lifelong friendship has on us.
Sarah, I know God has blessed me with you in my life and I love you so much.  I understand how often I write about you, but I hope you know that that is the only way I can think of to say how I feel about us.

Don't worry about disappointing me, I'm used to people sucking.

I really don't have anything else at the moment besides that sentence.

However, I do have some news.

The leader of my college ministry has so many stories.  Mickey Pittman could tell us a different story every week and we'd be nowhere close to his memoir.  So, since I've been wanting to write a book and have yet to come up with anything good,  I'm going to start interviewing Mickey.  He is such an inspirational man and I will keep this up to date as the interviews progress.

In the meantime, God bless.

Hate Me or Love Me at your Own Risk

Hating anyone eats away at your soul slowly.  Loving me, though, might be more difficult than hating me.

Wob

It's been a while.  Almost 5 years have passed since the last time I saw you.
In 8th grade, we were in the same class.  I remember my mom pointing you out and saying you were cute.  I shrugged it off because you were too cute to like a girl like me.  In 8th grade, I had hair as big as it was long.  I had braces.  I was still at that awkward toothpick body shape stage.  You were so out of my league.
Even now, after all these years, so much has changed, but I still feel so flattered that you like me.  You're training for the Marines right now, but somehow manage to take time to text me every so often.  Every text from you gives me a brand new smile that I don't have to fake.  I cannot wait until August when you come home.  I want to see you so bad.
I miss you, Robert Smith and I'm so flattered that you miss me, too.

Conversation in a classroom

Girl: Do you have a pen?
Boy: Yes
-girl uses pen and passes pen and attendance sheet back to boy-
girl finds a pen in her bag
Girl: Oh.  I just found a pen.
Boy: Well it's too late now.  It's ok.  You just wanted to start a conversation.
Girl:  You caught me.  That was my latest pick up line.

& while I hate this class, these conversations make it worth while.

At night, when I'm at that point between awake and sleep, I try to imagine what it'd be like if you were here.  I don't imagine anything sexual.  I imagine how it'd feel to be snuggled up next to you.  How it'd feel to have your arm around my waist casually, drifting off to sleep.
To be honest, I want you so bad.  I've never wanted anyone this much this soon.
You don't see what I see in you, which isn't so good.  I guess it's the same way around, too though.
You make me smile so much and we just always seem to understand what the other person means, even before the words leave their mouth.
I don't just want you physically.  I want to be in a relationship with you.
But I don't want to be the only one wanting that.

Wob

Every conversation is a battle for who gets to talk.  I've never met a boy who talks as much as I do.  You exceed my expectations in so many ways.  I think we want to know each other so well that we're telling each other everything the only way we know how.  You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you, darling.  I'm so happy God put you in my life.
I'm just afraid of Him taking you too soon.

Dystopian thing

The lightning fills the dark room even through the closed blinds.  As the thunder claps and the lightning sparks grow closer together, I tremble with my hand over David's mouth.  He can't move or make a peep. This kind of man-made storm tracks what we say and do.  I'm still trying to understand why our government would sink to this level, but have no time to dwell since I must protect what's left of my family.

Once Upon a Time...

When I was a little girl, I remember watching "Lizzie McGuire" on Disney Channel.  I used to wonder what made her so special.  I would try to make my life worthy of a TV show.  In other words, I thought Lizzie McGuire was an actual person and was just so special that Disney decided to make a TV show about her life.
I was an imaginative child, needless to say.

July 2011 Writing Challenge

We had a Skype date scheduled tonight. He never responded to any texts. I think something is wrong.

4 days later

He finally called me.  As I yank each word from his lips like teeth, I realize this is so much worse than I could have imagined. There is no way I'm staying here. 9 hours away. I'm too far away from him.
He never really has mentioned his dad before. Doesn't like to talk about his family. Always seems to regard them negatively. Now it doesn't matter. His dad is gone forever. Bought a grill and blew it up in his car. It's the most creative suicide I've ever heard of.
I'm fighting my mom to come home. I need to be there for him. I need to make sure he's ok. I'm not allowed.
I have to stay at school. 

NaNoWriMo Camp Daily Challenge: Day 1

Oh, lovely. Here comes Prince Charming once again to save the day. It makes sense, since in every other story my kind is always evil. I suppose he might think I'm evil as well.

The fact that I'm in love with him never crosses his mind. All he sees are the cat fights I always seem to get into with the maiden who holds his heart.

The jealousy I feel is enough to swallow me whole. Why not let him kill me? It will save me from years of a painful hole in my chest. I can not let him marry that bitch, though. If only he could see her for who she truly was. She plays sweet and innocent, but I know all the knights she has cheated on him with. I know all the things she has done that will eventually cause him heartache.

I try to calm down, change back to my human form to talk to him. However, counting to ten is slightly more difficult when I'm defending myself from his powerful sword.
I take the sword out of his hands and grasp it tightly. Then, I start counting and breathing, and finally I'm his size. He looks at me questioningly. I can see what he's thinking.

I begin timidly. "Sir, I can understand your confusion. However, I would never try to hurt you. I know who you think I am and who you think your lovely maiden is, but you have it all wrong. She is the one who made me like this. She made me into a dragon. She could not stand the thought of having any competition for you."

The prince stands there, simply staring at me in amazement. Oh goodness, I hope he's listening. Even more, he has to believe me.

Someone helped me with an idea I didn't know how to expand

Jogging wasn't much fun alone; Kayla knew this better than anyone. The pounding of her sneakers on the asphalt resonated in her ears, though it did nothing to break the monotony of her thoughts. That was where her mother always came in. Together they would run, taking in the morning breeze and sharing the music of nature. Talking wasn't necessary; the sound of her mother breathing next to her was enough. It had been a year since Kayla lost her mother, and running, it seemed would never be the same again.

On the few days she actually did remember to bring her iPod along, it did little to help her ignore the loneliness.  Even still, running was not something she could give up.  It was the last connection she had to her mother.  Although painful, it was nice to have that time to reminisce on the time when she felt the strongest connection to her mommy.

Nobody I know is anywhere within eye sight.  I open the car door and attempt to casually walk into the jewelry store.  Yeah.  I do this all the time.  No big deal. Just picking up a little something for my girlfriend. I saunter into the store behind my mom.  Everywhere I look I see gold and silver.  I try to remember what Joy told me she preferred.  Then, I see it.  Nothing else.  This is what I’m buying her.  I remember Joy telling me she loves the new key trend.  This one, this beautiful key with a purple gem in the middle, is definitely the key for her.  She will love it.

I point out the key to my mom and see her smile and nod in approval.  We go up to the counter, point out the key to the clerk.  The clerk looks at me with a knowing smile.  He pulls it out of the case and takes it to the register.  After handing over some money I had saved up, my mom and I walk out of the store.  I approach the crosswalk at a rapid pace and stop suddenly as I see a car coming.  I stare straight ahead as I walk across and think about the look on Joy’s face when she opens her Christmas present.

Normal

The shaking got worse.  They cut back my medicine partially to stop me from shaking.  It got worse.  I don’t know why I shake, but it’s embarrassing.  I want to be able to take a clear picture.  This is bullshit.  I shake all the time.  Nothing seems to stop it.  Nothing increases it eiher.  It’s constant and never-ending.  I forget when I started to shake.  I don’t know if previous medicine just stopped it or if my current medicine started it.

Medicine…drugs…I’ve been experimenting with drugs since I was 7.  Oh it was all official.  Doctors have studied me.  They prescribe it, I take it as prescribed.  My mom helps.  All this in the pursuit of being normal.  But seriously?  Nobody’s “normal.”  Everybody is their own kind of crazy.  Why are people so worried about me?

Some standards

I want a man who knows when something’s wrong.  I want one who when something is wrong will take time to make me feel better.  He’ll take me for a walk or out for ice cream.  And the best part is I won’t even need to ask him to.  He’ll just do it.  When I say I’m fine.  When I give him one word answers.  Maybe when he calls me on his way home, he’ll realize something’s wrong and just pick up some ice cream on his way home to make me feel better.  And sometimes, when I feel the worst, he won’t say anything.  He’ll just put his arms around me and squeeze all the negative feelings away.  He won’t tell me to stop crying.  He’ll just get me a box of tissues.

Why I don't know what I want to do with my life

As of right now, my freshman year of college, before anything is set in stone, I plan to major in Industrial Design: Product Design and minor in Creative Writing.  I know I want to write, but what I am not sure.  I would love to try to make it as a novelist, but because books seem to not be selling as much anymore, being a novelist is not the best career choice.

Writing novels was never the most promising career.   Being an author has always been seen as risky.  Therefore, writing is not the best option with the bookstores’ sales taking a nosedive.  However, being a writer was not my plan when I started college.

When starting college, I planned to major in Apparel and Textiles and be a fashion designer.  What I did not realize then, however, was how much I would change over the course of a semester. As of right now, I have no clue what I want to do with my life.  As an eighteen-year-old American girl, this is considered an acceptable state of mind to be at in my life.

In five years I see myself living at my parents’ house and schmoozing off them.  I plan to play video games in the basement and lie on online dating sites to find my Prince Charming.  I will help keep the video gaming and World Wide Web industries up and running.  Plus, my parents will never have to lose their precious angel.  I might take a few classes and write and sew.  However, I do not like the whole idea of becoming an adult.  Which is why I plan to boycott against it.  To me, growing up is not really a requirement.  I plan to grow up when I want to, which is not right now.

The point of college is to help young adults figure out what they want to do with their lives.  As a freshman, I am simply beginning the journey of figuring out what field I would really like to get a career in.  It would be nice to get involved in the fashion industry, but it might be a little too stressful for someone like me.  The journalism industry is not appealing to me at all so I would never want to get involved in that.

With so many options of majors at Appalachian State University, it is especially difficult to decide which one I want to do.  While Apparel and Textiles seemed appealing at first, I realized I did not want to learn that much about textiles.  After realizing my love for writing, I wanted to transfer to a liberal arts college and major in Creative Writing.  However, the college I had in mind is extremely expensive.  Also, as previously discussed, there are really no promising career options for someone who majors in Creative Writing.  My academic coach recommended I take a specific class with a specific professor.  Thus, I am taking Design Drawing I next semester.  I then realized that Design Drawing I is one of the classes required for the Industrial Design major.  This is the only reason I have considered Industrial Design as my major.  So as of right now, my plan for college is to take classes I enjoy and see if any of them connect to help decide my major.

The reality is that the major people choose in college does not decide their future career.  For example, my dad majored in marketing in college and decided to go into the construction and has made it in the construction industry.  Another prime example is my mom.  My mom majored in industrial engineering and after she graduated, she only had one career that went with her major.  My major in college is unimportant in relation with the real world.  What matters is that I have a college degree.

After I have acquired such, the career opportunities are endless.  If I decide I do not like the job my degree entails, in America, I have the freedom of finding another job that might not have anything to do with my major.  In conclusion, I am very comfortable not knowing what I want to do with my life as a freshman in college.

I’ve decided trying to blog to gain subscribers and readers is not for me.  So guys, this blog is not for you.  It’s for me.  If you’d like to read it and subscribe to it that’d be awesome and I greatly appreciate it and hope you find comfort in the words I produce, but writing them down on here is for my benefit and gaining views is no longer a priority of mine.

Hey you...With the Face

How dare you look at me.  How dare you smile at me like that.  You make it so hard to not miss you.  But see the thing is…I don’t really miss you.  I simply miss your companionship.  You didn’t treat me right.  Believe me, I KNOW how I should be treated.  And how you were treating me?  That wasn’t it.  So don’t smile at me…don’t make me think about you.  Because I don’t want to.  Unless you plan on apologizing and starting over completely, do not look at me like that ever again.  You’re killing me right now and you’re not even here.  How could I let you become that significant?

Just a point I thought of randomly

As we grow up it’s harder to let go of things because we know what it feels like to care and be cared about. We also know what it feels like to lose things and we don’t like to think about losing what we care about most.

Confessions of a College Kid

Everything scares me at this point. Weekends scare me. Boys scare me. Girls scare me. College absolutely terrifies me. At my high school graduation, I thought I had it all figured out. I KNEW what I was going to do. I knew who I was. I knew everything. Then, I got to college. Now, I have no idea what I want to do. I have no clue who I am. Oh, yeah, that scares me, too.

As the days roll together and it gets colder outside, the snow starts falling, the days dim earlier, and I begin to forget why I’m even here. What is the point of all this work? Will it ever end?

After high school graduation, I knew it all.  I had a plan for my life.  I was going to major in apparel and textiles and be a fashion designer.  I was going to change the fashion industry.  As corrupt as it is today, they need me.  What I didn’t realize then was in college things change.  People change, including me.

Weekends sneak up on me on a hunting lion’s paws. I work, work, work all week and then all of a sudden I have no classes for two days.  The momentum I built up during the week goes down the drain. As soon as I’m ready to take on the work, it isn’t there.  I also get so wrapped up in my work I forget to make plans for the weekend.  It’s just there, and I have nothing to do.  With no man in my life or girls to gossip with or car in the 1-square-mile town of Boone, there are limited options for my weekend activities.  Typically, sleep ends up winning as my choice for “fun.”

My opinion of men has also gone down the drain.  I’ve given up on what they think because what they think is inferior to what I think. And I think their thoughts suck. When they’re not focused on sex, drugs, alcohol, video games, and sports, I am never the one on their mind. Just last week, I was in Murphy’s, and some guy looked at my face, smiled, then my chest, dropped the smile and blatantly looked away, I realized he did not matter. Boys are asses, dogs, or pigs. Men are just grown up versions of boys (refer to previous sentence for what boys are).

Girls are supposedly not competitive. In reality, they are more competitive than boys. They’re just competitive at different things. Girls compete to have the best clothes, hair, make up, and arm candy, while men feel bad being considered arm candy. (Guys, the truth is, it does not matter what she does with you sexually; all that matters is what her friends think of you. If a girl’s friends like you, you should be proud.)  Girls are undependable, two faced, and manipulative.  For example, there was a girl named Missi who I thought was my best friend in high school, but whenever a guy came around she disappeared off the face of the earth.  She became all about that guy and had no time for me.  What if all the girl friends I have all of a sudden become unavailable or judgmental?

At first, college was cool.  I loved being away from my parents, being able to do what I wanted, and having friends.  Now, though, the prospect of spending four years of my life studying something I might not even get a career in is too overwhelming for words. Deciding my major is an entirely different story.  What if I want to choose a major that has no job opportunities?  What if I fall in love with some guy majoring in sustainable development with no promising career after college?

When will my appetite for breakfast return?  When will I keep my room clean?  When will I start to take being an adult seriously?  When is my perception of the world going to change? Will you change it?