Thursday, August 21, 2008

the circle goes round

Last month, a year after working here, my work paper did a 'get to know the employee' article on me. I've been overwhelmed by the amount of attention I have received. Random people have been asking me about my art work and writing. Usually I felt pressured by the lewd comments like 'so yer an artist, eh?' or 'really you walk everywhere?' I've half joked that I liked it better when no one really knew me that well and I could just be the quiet girl who worked here! I did though!! Well amazingly, I have been offered a small writing gig for our work paper. It's pretty unimpressive but I'm excited to do my first piece! I've been doing sketched for the paper for the past 6 months roughly, so I guess it was only a matter of time.... I just didn't really expect it or think about it for that matter. I know it's lame to get excited about something like this but hey I'll take what I can get!
The past couple of weeks have been really hard on me. I'm happy that almost everything is back in place now. I have a check card again!!! I will have an ID soon, hopefully! I have friends to buy me booze!
Oh and I have started a novel kinda... well I started it a month ago. Then, I threw that away and restarted it. So I will share it with you now since I really have too much on my mind to make an actual blog that isn't random thoughts. Give me some sort of opinion please before I burn it with hatred! I love it right now but you know how judgemental people can be with their own writing! Thanks...

Chapter One

“Please let us on,” the woman pleaded, “I’ve offered you everything I have, beyond my children!” The flustered bus driver kept his stance in front of the bus. “We can not help you,” he said, “I will tell you once again, madam. I am not picking up; we are only stopping for a rest.” The desperate mother gently rubbed the child latched to her chests head. Her eyes had filled with tears after spending the last fifteen minutes begging for a way out. Not to be degraded she turned around in a fiery and walked away from the bus. Her children followed her with their heads low, as though they already knew to ignore the few pitiful glares over. This was a scene that had become familiar to Olive as she made her trip on the crowded bus. Every town they have encountered had the left over people that were too poor to flee lined up on the street. In their desperate time of fear they grasp out for help, the passer bys, only to be denied again. As the bus rolled on they threw stones at it and cursed all who rode. The other riders aboard became quiet after each occurrence. She heard their muffled cries and prayers, wondering if they all had the same fears that she did. After a hope they’d be safer here, the same scenes are still happening the closer they get.
Many of the people on the bus were not so different than the mother. They could not help but to pity her and wish that they could do more. For when it came down to it the people were all the same, at least those that hadn’t succumbed to violence. Most of them were grasping onto their own children, afraid of letting them out of their loving hold. They all had the same fears build up as she did. That the safety they knew as home was no longer safe. This was a feeling that can discomfort even the strongest of men.
You see, there was a terrible war starting to burn up the country. It had been fuelled for so long now that tension was thick in the air. At first, the food supply ran low and the prices rose more every day. The simple things became unaffordable to people. They were loosing their homes and their dignity. A panic arose, while friends and neighbors turned against each other. It started off with small things, but when the violence became worse so did the fear. Other countries began to invade, knowing that they were all weak now. The people were too busy trying to keep their own lives together then to worry about a possible attack. When they became more frequent and more people were dead, the faces of the city could no longer maintain their tough appearance. In a last ditch effort for safety, the people who could flee did so, searching for hope. Olive boarded one of the last buses out of New York. She had a small bag with her belongings, the clothes on her back and a blanket her mother made her wrapped tightly around her. This comforted her because it felt like it was embracing her and keeping her safe. She had just turned twelve a month earlier, which seemed a lot better than the way things are now. She had a good comprehension of all that was happening. She wasn’t a naive child anymore and her parents knew that. They made no promises that they would meet her, just that they would try after they straightened up what they could. She knew better and mourned them even though she was unsure if they had already died yet.
She grazed her hand against the cold window and wished that what they said was true. It had been rumored that the war had been taking on the coasts. The smaller populated areas in the Midwest seemed unharmed by it. It was though they were casted back out for bigger fish. The cities had crumbled, filled with greed, as the meager farms prospered. Well, at least that’s how the stories go. Olive wasn’t true how much of this was true. She also questioned if it would be any better since now the masses had begun to dispersed there. Would they once again become targets? These thoughts and fears seemed to be apparent in everyone else as well. She knew better than to worry about the unknown.
Her thoughts drifted off from the current uncertainties to the place she was going. She remembers her grandparent’s farm fondly. She had spent numerous summers there in central Minnesota. So many that she could remember the tiny details that never seemed to change. The way the air smelt so clean, usually of newly cut grass or hay. She knew the feel of the dirt driveway against her feet as she’d walk it freely. The way the old lilac bushes would spring up in those lovely colors around the old blue farm house. She smiled at the thought of the multitude of different farm cats that would scurry between her feet whenever she graced the outside. Most of all she remembered the lovely faces of her grandparents and their tender embraces. This was her safe place, the only place she knew she could live without fear. She drifted off to sleep with the thoughts fresh in her head and the smile still glued on her face.


****So that's what I got so far. I fell like when I write I tend to ramble to much. An honest opinion would be helpful, since I wanted to start stronger than I usually do... have a good night! Ohhh and happy blogging!

1 comment:

Mike Oblivion said...

I'm not going to sugar-coat this. I didn't read what you wrote yet. I will, don't worry.

Just thought I'd let ya know that your continued blogging, no matter what, is inspiration in some degree or another. So thank you for that.

I'll read your story soon.

Ciao and all that.

-Nihilistic Hippy