A chick that worked in a cubicle
- Repetition Compulsion
It feels as though no matter what one tries, he or she will continue in the cycle they are subconsciously looped into. Why do so many remain ignorant of the repetition compulsion that is all too present in most of their lives? If one finally comes to the point where the one-track state of being is recognized, will changes be made?
A chick that used to work in a cubicle
- Portion Control
I've been trying to figure out exactly what a portion of a person could be. Is it a fistful of their haunting words or a slice of their thoughts? Could it be a cup of their laughter, sorrow and dreams? Is it possibly a sprinkle of their potential to be even more amazing or just a whiff of their essence? And once you find out the measurement of a portion, how do you control how many portions you have?
A chick that worked in a cubicle
- Freedom
At times I wonder what the point of all of this all is, you know? Like, although I've taken steps toward my freedom, will I ever get to capture it, possess it? Will I taste of its sweetness? Does freedom even exist in this life? The thought that freedom may just be an illusion worries me.
A chick that works in a cubicle
Because your philosophy may be quite different to mine, we must not let it overwhelm either of us. Rather, we can attempt a relationship to find the balance between the significant and that which is not important. What we believe is only complicated if one does not understand. Do you see how pleasant our universe could be if each of us broke down some of our ideologies' complexity into that which is simple?
A chick that works in a cubicle
- Survived
At long last, the close of business is very near. Just a few more minutes and I'll be outta here. If ye had any clue as to how exhausted I be, then you might just agree that one of the best feelings in life is knowing that you've survived. The working week has almost ended and this weekend, I will be revived.
A chick that works in a cubicle
- He Said What?
You wear tight clothes to attract the men," he said. "I don't," I thought. I couldn't remember the last time I'd donned any garment that was tight-fitting. I looked at him, disbelieving that those words actually exited his mouth. Then, he asked: "Isn't that what they believe?" When I came to, I replied, "That's what the foolish believe.
A chick that works in a cubicle
- Thoughts On Overthinking Overthinking
Maybe I'm thinking too deeply about too much. I may have too many thoughts at once. Thinking is a skill few folks tap into and even fewer master. I sort of wish I did not think so much. At least, I wish I did not think this much. Why do I overthink, then overthink overthinking?
A chick that works in a cubicle
- 9:11 (yet again)
Once upon a time, a chick sat in her cubicle, typing this "quote." She was tired. Rather, she was exhausted. It had been a long week and she was just waiting for the end of her shift so her weekend could begin.
A chick that works in a cubicle
- Trivial
The more I think about it, the more I recognize that this life is quite trivial. 'Like, what are you doing with yours?' I often ask myself. I begin to wonder if this is how it should be or how it would have been ultimately. There is more to my life than this, surely.
A chick that works in a cubicle
- Exhausted
I've been sipping decaffeinated tea all day, wondering why I'm so exhausted. It didn't help that I only got about five hours of sleep last night. And it's only the middle of the week.
Electric Guest
- This Head I Hold
They call me a little wound-up. See, I'm upset because I've always been stuck, but I don't know what it is I'm without. Guess I'm in love with always feeling down...
Another chick that works in a cubicle
- Oatmeal & Meds pt. 2
True story: I'm not a fan of oatmeal. Its consistency reminds me of vomit. I only eat it because it's supposed to make me "sleepy." (At least that's what this one video I watched said.) If it were up to me, I wouldn't touch the stuff. On a good night, it actually works though. Then, on a usual night, I just suffer from drug-induced insomnia.
A chick that works in a cubicle
- Last Nights
It's just one of many last nights. The balloons will deflate, pop. The faces will change, age. I'll be gone. So might they. Why does everything have to be so short-lived in this life? I can't quite wrap my finite mind around it. It hurts to think about it, honestly. The end is too near.
The little coin that couldn't
- Same Value
Your worth is not determined by what others are capable of. You are who you are for a reason. You are a valuable being with a purpose. Remember that. Regardless of what others may believe, your worth is the same as any other person's.
A chick that works in a cubicle
- When It Rains
I don't quite fancy the rain. I understand that it is just an essential part of living on this planet. I understand we need the rain for crops to grow. I understand that it's just the Creator's design. But when it rains, I find it difficult to feel happy about it. Maybe that's just me...
Kiri's P.O.V.
- 霧
I was named after fog. My parents thought that it was the perfect name since I first entered this world on a foggy morning. It must have seemed to suit me because my eyes were a light shade of grey as a baby. As I grew older, I realized that Kiri wasn't exactly a "normal" name. I was teased by my peers - especially the ones who envied my dark grey eyes.
nameless being
- Chapter 4: Fostering pt 2
In those days, I was not so foolish to think that my foster parents were going to benefit my life in any way. Since I'd arrived, they'd stripped me of my old identity and individuality- or so they thought. I was still an individual, whether I obeyed them or not. The man and woman who had taken me in when my birth mother left me to fend for myself in this cruel, unloving world.
nameless being
- Chapter 3: Fostering pt 1
Even though I was still there, biding my time, I was sure my suffering would end. How long, I knew not. By what means would I escape, I only had a rough idea. I was twelve at the time, so it was not as though I had such great foresight. All I knew was I couldn't last much longer under their fostering. Then again, it was my first experience in a foster home. Or any type of home at that.
A morbid mind
- The C Sectioner pt1
The stranger lurked in a shadowed alley. His victim, Jazabel Tinson was getting closer. As the pregnant woman slowly waddled past his hiding space, he silently fell into step behind her. He pushed her to the ground, hard enough to floor her, debilitate her.
A chick that works in a cubicle
- 9:11
Rescue me, somebody. Anybody. I've resorted to writing poetry. I know some of you may be mad at me to some degree. So, pardon me. Usually, I refrain from outrightly posting about the tragedy that had become me.
