Life as a Worker

So, as many of you may and many of you may not know....(continues talking to empty room)...

Ahem, I started working at Wendy's recently. The job was absolutely traumatizing at first-I hated every moment I was there. I hated the color of the walls, the shape of the tiles, the way the screens worked. I think I'm like this every time I start something new-I reject it completely. Anyway, I slowly began to tolerate working at Wendy's-I actually began to like certain moments. That was until the evening that I was made to do the front register instead of take money at the back window. I came home and cried-honestly, I did. I was so exasperated with myself and my managers and my coworkers that I wasn't even angry at anyone-just hopeless.
Nevertheless, I finally can say with a great amount of confidence that I like my job. I don't enjoy dragging out of bed every morning, but once I'm there, I start feeling better. I like getting to see the 'regulars' who come through the drivethru, and I've slowly become better at manning the front register (but I'm still not working entire shifts up there). Finally, and most fascinatingly, I've started getting used to my coworkers. I will admit, even in the month I've been there, they've come and gone. Some faces I only see for a few weeks. Some faces, I see nearly every day I am scheduled to come in. I don't talk to them often, but when I do speak to them, they know my name and sometimes, they ask me questions. I try to ask questions in return, and I try to exchange smiles with them when we make eye-contact. They're very fascinating and the relationship between coworkers is different from that of friends or classmates. As an observer, it appears like some are closer than others-they group together by age, normally-but as a participant, it feels different from that. There is closeness between those who interract outside of work, and a closeness between those who have things in common, and a distance between those whom I've never spoken to. The 'never spoken to' group is mostly boys, not because I don't like speaking to boys (the closest co-worker I have at this moment is a boy who calls  me 'little buddy'-I don't know how he can say that since he's not much bigger than 5'6", but anyway...). It's because I honestly don't know their names, and I never need to call to them for anything. Instead, I watch them-I think I creep a lot of my coworkers out-while they grill or sandwich-make or goof off together. The highschoolers are particularly amusing because they get wrapped up in their silliness and forget that they have work to do. It's easy to gauge their personalities when they get talking-some are careful, some are thrill seekers, some are quiet wonderers, and some of them have their own ideas about how everything should be done. In this way I've come to mostly like work (besides that, it earns me money).



 In short, it's interesting.

-Argentia-

Dream Person...

There's something in his gaze that is from another world.
I can't describe it. It's as if he holds in his eyes another age which I have never seen, one which only he knows about. Perhaps he's trapped in a stereotypical time period in my mind, determined by his rock ballads, messy hair, and cheap car with a built-in stereo. I'm not sure. Ten has the presence that reminds me of a magician; a relic of a time past that I can watch but never touch and never understand. Sometimes I believe that Ten is in fact a bolt of lightning itself, incarnated as a human being to touch my heart for a moment and disappear in a flash of light. Only the destruction left behind is evidence to his moment there.
 Ten is like looking at a night sky; going on forever and ever, studded with thousand-year-old stars that blink at me mockingly, telling me how little I truly know of the man whose dark brown eyes I am staring into. The cool spring rains and muggy evenings of late are only a cruel reminder of the way we met and the fact that there is little I can do to rid him from my memory, for Ten is timeless.

A boy that I had a dream about looked like Jung Joon Young, and his name was 'Ten' like the number 10. I think my unconscious mind was really just dreaming about Jung Joon Young, but he was so mezmerising that I couldn't forget about him. It was a very ethereal dream, like I was walking through the world of Alice in Wonderland....

-Argentia-

I Became Hollow, an excerpt

I stare down at my plants growing in their little window box. Carefully, I begin to water the small green vines, their tiny leaves just beginning to unfold and greet the sunlight that feeds them daily. Hyunjae chuckles quietly.
"You've become completely absorbed in them. Everyone would laugh to see the great and mighty Kim Haneul babying those little green things as if they were his own children."
 I cast a glare in his direction.
 "They stick by me better than other people do." I whisper.
 "As if. I'm here, aren't I?"
 I ignore him. It's not as if he needs to be told how much he's failed me.
 "What are the others doing?"
 Hyunjae muses for a minute, tapping the table softly. He would have made a wonderful drummer, I think to myself, watching his fingernails, coated in chipped black paint, strike my countertop. It's really too bad he became a solo artist.
 "Jinsoo went into the army, like you. He's finished his mandatory service, but he's still not sure about his career. He seems to be very attached to the military. A part of me wonders...if he's having trouble coming out of it like you are."
 "Were. I'm better now," I answer defiantly, even though a huge part of me screams 'You aren't better and you never will be! Everything up until now, the leaving, the working, the pill-pushing, the crying...none of it worked and none of it ever will. You will never heal, you will die like this.'
 Hyunjae glances at me, "I'm sorry, Haneul, but you don't look better to me."
 I give him a quick glare, "enough about me. How is Minyoung?"
 "Minyoung became a lawyer."
 My eyes widen, and for a moment I forget my plants as I turn to Hyunjae, "Minyoung, a lawyer? But he was so-"
 "Involved in his career. I know. That's how I responded at first, but it's completely true. He's all books and laws and courtrooms now. It's very intimidating, honestly. Thankfully, he hasn't lost his smile."
 I think back to the dark writing inscribed on my back, "does he still have his tattoo? He didn't get it removed, did he?"
 Hyunjae laughs at me, but I feel a bit slighted. The memory of Minyoung, Changwoo, and I marching to a tattoo parlor on our first visit to Hawaii is still fresh in my memory. Our teenaged wrecklessness and childish dreams are still fresh, too, and I suffer a sad smile. Hyunjae catches it and rests a hand on my back, suddenly giving the hair that falls on my shirt collar an affectionate ruffle. I expect him to hug me, but he doesn't, instead patting the place on my back where the hopeful words are inked into my flesh.
 "He still has it since it doesn't show under his work clothing. Tell me, do you ever regret it?"
 I sigh softly, "sometimes. It's strange to think of...hyung with this tattoo..." I can't finish my sentence. I don't know how to say it.
 "In the grave? I can only imagine," Hyunjae sighs quietly, "but, Haneul...that's just Changwoo's-"
 "Body, I know," I rush out, turning back to my plants. Hyunjae's hand on my back suddenly feels hot and sweaty. My skin prickles and my shoulders tense; I want him to stop touching me now. Every time I see him, our conversation slowly turns itself into a miniature counselling session, and I hate it.

I Became Hollow

 

So What's Happened? May Update

'사랑 (sarang)', the Korean word for love, drawn in the sand at Souther Shores, OBX, NC

Recently...how am I supposed to talk about recently in simple terms? My life seems dry and unexciting on the outside, and the things I do and say are quite boring, but inside I have a hurricane of thoughts and emotions building up in me. Of course I can't explain them, but I feel them and struggle with them, and it's very tiring.

I've briefly let And Then There Were Seven and The Summer Colors of You go in light of I Became Hollow and a return to Lineage. I've been re-reading Lineage and thinking about spending some time in July/August (probably the latter) to rewrite, but sometimes I want to work on The Chronicles of Valentijn Janson: From Belgay to Daron-Tithe more. It feels weird for me to write this but there are moments when I want to slam the romances shut and return to my former days of magic, adventure, and dark secrets. The main characters of each book, both Starr and Adrian, and Valentijn, were so intriguing. I will admit that my more recent characters don't match up to them.

I'm leaving for New York City again soon, hopefully to a sunny city instead of a rainy one. I'm sure my Korean is still as pathetic as before, and yes, I do need to work on it. But that is not for tonight and for another day instead. Leaving on a trip will be fun, even if it is with my grandparents which makes me a little uneasy. My last trip with them went alright, so maybe this one will.

Also-rain. It has rained here for several days now. A stationary front decided to dump all of its sorrows on us, so they say we'll have to deal with it until Saturday. A part of me wants to complain every morning I wake up and find the icky rain still pouring down my windows (which it didn't today, yay!), but another part of me feels good when the rain falls. Strange moods come over me when it rains. Good or bad, they are still nice to experience. May rain is different from rain in any other month, and it has a cleansing and clearing  quality that has a way of changing the way you think and feel.

My favorite tracks recently are Busker Busker's Yeosu Night Sea and At the Entrance to the Alleyway, both of which have very pretty lyrics when translated. Right now I'm listening to The Cure's Pictures of You, and I realize I forgot how much I love this song. XD I've become more and more forgetful recently, to the point that it frustrates me terribly.

I'm not sure if my current moods are regression or just me trying to clear my head. I am listening to music that I used to listen to years ago, and I have been revisiting old drawings and writings recently, but I can't decide if it's the recent pressures of college that make me do this, or just the fact that I've been away too long. I haven't listened to The Cure in ages, and the last time I opened Valentijn's book was at least nine months ago.

I'd write more, but it's getting late and I have school to do tomorrow.

-Argentia-

Spring

She never wastes a word when speaking
Her accent is clipped in a strange way
And her voice is a contradiction
Warm as sunlight, cool as rain, frozen like snow

She has a laugh that is infectious
Nothing about her can be forgotten
From her hastily fixed clothing and hair
To her bright, darting eyes, she is wonderful

People can't understand their feelings about her
She appears to speak her thoughts
Then does the opposite of them
She is impulsive, independent, and incredible

I find that I like her
Although she is capricious
When she comes near, I am happy
Yet she seems to have no care for me

When her shining eyes first looked into mine
The impression was one of sadness
When her sea green soul met mine of pale gray
I saw her reasonable fears

Sometimes, when I speak with her
I see the pain of winters past buried deep inside
When the cold air kisses our rosy cheeks
How long must we wait for the warm sun?

When she is angry, I endure the harshness
Like the bitter wind, I know it will pass
After all, returning frustration with the same
Only leads to sadness

I wait with her through her tears
She is delicate, she is too fragile to be pushed forward
Patience is the key to unlocking her heart
Therefore, even when it rains, I wait with her

Waiting is probably going to kill me
And if her charm rips my heart from my chest
I will probably blame her in the end
But right now, there's no hope for my feelings

Even her swinging moods are neccesary
Her charm would be lost otherwise
Through the rain, the wind, and the snow
I will watch my unpredictable Spring come into full bloom



-A.K.-