There comes a point in life where we all must make a grave decision that can change the path we walk for the rest of our lives. It [i]is[/i] a four year long period of time we have to make that evidently minor choice, but all in all it seems to rush up to our face like a calm ocean ripple ascending into a tsunami. To choose the occupation that will be most enjoyable, tolerable and notably profitable is a daunting task for any student.
For the longest time I desired to become a Veterinarian. Working with animals, taking care of them, keeping them healthy. It was the job for me, no doubts about it. Or so I thought, considering my allergy to cats pondered differently.
My most recent career aspiration has been that of a Video Game Designer. Modeling the characters, scenery, and any other miscellaneous objects through out the game. To see my name under Animators as the ending credits scroll by after an Über gamer has beaten my game. One that has reached the Top Sellers charts and is demanded by nerds alike across the globe. Although after researching what the program demands and what the limitations on numbers are, I realized that I should demise out a back up plan in case numero uno plummets and hits rock bottom. Following being told that I am efficient at creative writing, I divulged into journalism and added writers craft to the cue of courses I have lined up for next year.
Now I find myself trucking through the school work to pull up my grades even higher into the 90s. I hope that high grades will make me stand out among the entries to the interactive arts and science courses I wish to pursue in University, giving me a fighting chance to be accepted into a study that actually might interest me(more so then anything else that I consider myself not so proficient at).
Creatively yours,
~Chiko<3
Ever look into the corner beside your desk and see that trash been heaping with crumpled up memos and ideas? Believe me, there comes a time where you have to sit down and spend a few hours reluctantly sorting through the rubbish. Within that over flowing recycle bin of post-it notes, are memories and thoughts that have long since been buried. Some that bring tears of joy, tears of sadness, moments of laughter, and spurratic waves of rage. Yet, unfortunately some sticky notes float to the surface and make you just wish you could put them through the shredder.
Its odd how different day to day happenings will bring to mind different recurrences. Very troublesome indeed. Unless you are the forgetfull type who suffer from short-term memory loss, then if might be of some aid. I think we should all be glad we aren't 3-Second-Sam from 51 First Dates. It'd be like living the life of a gold fish.
"Hey! A guy with bubbles coming out of his head."
(three seconds later) "Heh a treasure chest."
(another three seconds later) "Hahaha a guy with bubbles coming out of his head!"
You get the idea. And while you get the idea, I'm out of any further ideas. I can't think of anything in relation to this post. Ironic?
Forgetfully yours,
~Chiko...
Look through a magnifying glass to gaze at the world,
To see before your eyes the finer points of life be unfurled.
A tiny lone water bug treads water to make a ripple.
But imagine the power behind that of an amount triple.
Underneath your magnifying glass see the numbers in the group,
Who turn the wheel of life to start the beginning of a loop.
Watch and help the chain of cause and effect grow,
But be not the one to reap what you sow.
For underneath your little magnifying glass the motivation will invade,
Compelling you to join a cascade of people providing aid.
Adding to the bodies who turn a swell into a tidal wave,
Be one of the ones who stood together and gave.
Poetically Yours,
~Chiko
We have come unto the month of April. Promises of showers, which we have seemingly already seen much of, that will bring May flowers. Tis spring, with the cusp of a winter breeze still lingering. To my own surprise, the half-month of March passed quickly. Now I find my life cruising in the slow lane traveling through a barren desert. Not much to look at, the occasional blossom of foliage providing some stimulation and excitement. Other than that, it's the same old concatenation of events. Day in and day out for the next month and a half. Joy.
People often wish that they could slow their lives down, spend time enjoying the scent of roses on a mid summer's day stroll. At times like this I wish I could be thrown a curve ball, or lemons. Give me something to think about except for the fact that I am utterly bored out of my mind. Neither art, nor guitar hero, nor reading, sleeping, eating, and not even any aptitude of games could provide substance enough to fill the void of hours of nothingness. Even though there is plenty to do, none of it seems to perk any interest to occupy my time.
Alas, I have managed enough energy (because when we fall into bordem, it sucks us of our precious motivational energy like a leech suckling the blood from an unsuspecting water-waders' exposed ankle) to write to my limited readers about an enigma that has brought about my speculation of my lack of hobbies.
Blandly yours,
~Chiko
