Size Seven Shoes

One moment of silence please, as I mourn the loss of face from being unable to complete Nanowrimo on time. Again. *sigh* But three cheers for the fact that this writer has landed an editorial job, albeit only a contract basis. Life is about to change. Yet another time. 

I will tell you a story that is only half true. Which half that might be is really up to you. I used to be a gorgeous princess once. Well, at least that's what my Mother used to call me. I wore the prettiest dresses and was the admiration of everyone who saw me. Only that what they admired wasn't the dress nor the beauty. What they admired was really, my ability to be brave. Not many girls are brave. Or rather, not many girls are as brave as they portray themselves to be. I was once brave. I was brave enough to stand up to the boys. Boys are full of nasty ideas, and they are big bullies. One or two tried to tease me and call me names a number of times. At first I just smiled nicely and pretended like I was too sweet to do anything to retaliate. Then, one day, when all the boys were out playing football, I exchanged the shirts of the nasties so that none of them got to wear back their own shirts. Of course, they never knew it was me who did it. I was careful about that...

Entry #0002 Cardboard box They hosted an entertainment event today. Various performers, but mostly from amongst themselves. The idea of course, was to generate publicity. Many of us were asked to attend. No, wait, let me rephrase that: many of us were forced to attend. What good would a public event look, if there were too many empty seats? But in all honesty, their ideas of amusement are feeble, to say the least. Back where we came from, music festivals were joyful and full of vigour. There is nothing of that sort here. If you would just look at us, we are nothing but the living dead. We have lost our souls almost entirely. I am a performer at heart. I miss the freedom of singing in the open streets. And dancing. It thrills the heart, and sparks life into the bones. Dancing is forbidden here. And so is singing. But in the dead of night, I hear voices. There are some among us who have not yet forgotten the tunes of yesteryear. One day these songs will resound in thi...

There is a great deal of difference between doing something because you have to and doing something because you want to. That is, I believe, the essence of passion. Take now into consideration the fact that I am up at this superbly late hour working on freelance articles. Of course I'll get paid for it and of course I have to deliver because I agreed to deadlines and it would reflect on my professionalism. But yet I could choose to simply kill off word limits by writing nonsense or simply plaster in facts without putting effort into coining catchy puns or putting life into the words I write. It would consume less time, and the work would still get done. However, ladies and gentlemen, I take pride in the articles I churn out, regardless of how pressing the deadlines or how daunting the topics. The reason lies in the existence of passion. I will be downright honest with you and tell you quite frankly that the amount of money I am being remunerated right now for what I do versus the q...

Entry #0001 The Trenches, 0000 hours I am finally alone. I am here at last. I have tried many times to make it here to write this, but as you might expect, things often get in the way around here. It's all their fault. There have been others before me, many who have tried to do as I now endeavour to. To write about what really goes on here. To make known everything that they do. They have kept us silent for far too long now. They try to strike fear into our hearts, to make us cower in their presence. To believe that there is no way that we can rise up against them. That they are not afraid. But they are. That is why they keep making efforts to silence us. It is the reason that they stalk us, the same cause for the violence. Yes. They resort to violence now. All their calm assurances that they would never lay a hand on those under their care is nothing but a hoax. That's what they are, anyway. Nothing but a giant lie. I shiver as I write this. I fear to be fou...