When I think of the phrase chin up, I think of my recently passed grandfather.
My life was in shambles. I am only twenty and literally felt as if nothing was right and I was doomed to be unemployed and unhappy forever. I had applied for hundreds o(more)f jobs, no replies. I felt hopeless, helpless, worthless.
I had managed to find a job selling a vacuum cleaner called a Kirby, and let me tell you, it was bigger than me. Anyways, in the beginning process of this job we had to do demo's and my first demo was for my grandpa and grandma.
He let me go through the whole think, top to bottom, teasing and such. But he could see it in my eyes, that this was some sort of hope in my seemingly hopeless existence.
After I was done, he stopped me. He took my face into his hands and said, "Chin up beautiful, you'll find your way." He kissed my forehead and then told me to quit this and wait for the right think to come to me.
He passed a month later. However, through that rough time came something beautiful. I received an interview with starbucks, a job I have waited for, and I got it.
Had he not taken the time to advise me to keep that chin of mine up, I would still be in the hopeless slump selling vacuum cleaners, miserable.
my eyes lay heavy as I sit in the corner of this god awful place drinking coffee that is far too strong and watching the clock tick. The idea of time scares me, I always feel like I am running out, like there isn't enough, when in reality I(more) have too much.
too much time to sit and examine my life, over and over. Analyzing the ups and downs, lefts and rights, goods and bads. It gets to be too much sometimes, too much on my restless soul. Restless, yes. The more time passes the more tired I become, the more I yearn for something more and better, something more than me.
I sit in this spot for hours, the time ticks, but I have no idea where it all went. I spent hours lost in my head. How I would kill to be out of my head, just for a little bit.
It was one phrase, one insult, one nasty look that caused my eyes to mirror the raindrops falling down my window. I felt empty, like every last bit of emotion had poured out through my makeup streaked eyes and that there was nothing left. I drove home from work(more) watching the rain and the fog and wishing for a sign that these unwanted tears would stop and that I would be able to make it home in one piece. I received no sign, however, I may have overlooked it, ignored it, silently pushed it away from my conscious.
Self destruction is a funny thing, it strikes in many different ways and pushes you in many different directions. It made me wish that I could drive until there was no more road left to drive on, so thats what I did. There is something therapeutic about night driving. Being surrounded by the darkness, surrounded by the hum of your favorite tune, surrounded by nothing and everything.