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About Deviant Artist Flight is freedomFemale/United States Group :icontouchedwithfire: TouchedWithFire
Madness is inspiring..
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Today I lost my job.
I had a dog on the grooming table and was adjusting the grooming arm with the collar on it (before putting the collar on) - and the dog backed up and fell right off the table onto its back.

Thank God the dog didn't break its back and seemed to have no broken bones. It survived. Thank God.
But I still cried for about an hour after it happened ... in front of coworkers ...

What a sweet dog it was ... I'm just so sorry that it happened and so glad that the dog is alive and seems to have no broken bones (it was standing up and walking around afterwards). I'm terrified that the dog might have been hurt even though it didn't seem to be.

I resigned before they could fire me.
Walking away from the grooming table with a dog on it is an automatic termination, and though I didn't walk away from the table and I was within arm's length of the dog, I took my hand off the dog's back for a split second to adjust the attachment to the grooming table so that I could get the safety collar / groomer's helper collar on the dog, and the dog scooted itself off the table before I could get the groomer's helper collar onto it. I feel terrible. I'm not sure when I'll ever feel better again, and I have no idea what I'll do for a job after this. But I'm so deeply thankful that the dog is okay.

A job ... finding a boyfriend on a dating website ... those things can sort themselves out ... but thank God that dog is alive - and I pray that it is not hurt.
I had a good day today at work, until the last hour of the day.
I opened a dog's kennel to check if it was dry, and it escaped. It was a huge dog. I had forgotten to put a slip lead over its head when opening the kennel.

Another dog was being bathed a few feet away. Another big dog.
The other grooming assistant/apprentice was there, bathing the dog.
She caught the dog that had escaped from the kennel before it could attack the other dog. I have that to be thankful for. Later, the grooming manager who is on a much-needed, much-deserved vacation in Hawaii, called and asked to speak to the other person in the grooming salon.

I'm thinking I'll end up fired soon.
I suck at this job anyway.

A dizzying array of like 4 or 5 different kinds of shampoo and conditioner were being applied to the dog bathed in the last hour of my shift. And there were steps in between of its fur being blown with a high powered blower. So much to remember ... granted, this was one of the more complicated types of baths, but - there's a huge rack of shampoos and so many different combinations and ... I just don't think I can do it - I'll have to keep asking what is used for what and which ones hurt the dogs' eyes and which ones don't and which shampoos to use in combination with other shampoos.

And the person I was working with tonight absolutely loathes me. Harsh critiques of my mistakes, assumptions that my failures were based in not trying hard enough. She's a young, strong, healthy 20 year old. I'm 35 with Fibromyalgia.

She was absolutely furious with me when the dog escaped from the kennel.
If she was my boss she would have fired me right there and then, I know it without a doubt.
I still might get fired for my mistake.

Working in the grooming salon is very physical. It's really not a job for someone with Fibromyalgia anyway, and I don't like the thought of working in such close quarters with someone who thinks I'm a wimpy person who doesn't care or try and who loathes me.

I'm not making it.
I mean ... I've (mostly) got the computer and phone stuff down, and I'm getting the nail clipping and grinding down, but the baths ... my gosh ... that huge floor to ceiling rack of giant gallon sized shampoo bottles with pumps and the dozens of smaller bottles on racks above the tubs ... and all the many combinations and ... I just am not getting it, and -

I've almost run out of time. Before she left, the grooming manager told me that when she gets back (on Monday, in a few days), if I have not learned to bathe dogs, I'll either be moved to another department of the store or let go. Recently, the other job openings in the store all filled up. They just hired for the one other position in the store I was interested in: part time dog trainer.

So ... I'm screwed ...
I really like working at Petco, even with that chick who's always annoyed with my mistakes working in the grooming department. But soon, I'll probably / possibly not be good enough, fast enough, and there are no other job openings in the store.

Maybe this means that God wants me to pick up the purse design / purse making business idea again? Working from home is sometimes better for people with Fibromyalgia anyway ... 
I woke up, drenched in salt water, with the memory of a strange dream flowing through my mind in waves …

It began simply enough. The first thing I saw was the cover of a National Geographic magazine, with a splashy picture of a celebrity couple on a yacht looking relaxed and carefree. I remember thinking that it seemed more like a picture for the cover of People magazine than National Geographic, but I opened up the magazine anyway and …

Suddenly I become Kate Smith, the tall, smiling, dark-haired model with her handsome boyfriend on her arm, standing aboard the yacht, wind in my hair, the feeling of the ocean moving the deck beneath my feet. I am living the interview with the reporter who stands beside us and my life dances across the pages of the National Geographic magazine in my hands. Pictures of artistic, bohemian clothes I had modeled, my past achievements, etc. It is all there in brilliant colors and descriptions.

The reporter asks about a large, oval sapphire set in a band on the wedding ring finger of my left hand, but the man beside me doesn’t want to tell anyone what it means. He’s not ashamed to be with me, but there is a secret tied to the ring, and it isn’t time for the world to know yet. The color of the sea around us is echoed in the ring, and it is a symbol of our love.

We’re here to go scuba diving, off the coast of Vietnam in pristine, unspoiled waters untouched by pollution, and relatively unexplored. We’ve already trained with an instructor and are ready for our dive. It’s been a lifelong dream for Paul, to go scuba diving someday. We’re all ready to go – dressed in wetsuits and scuba gear. Paul pulls me in for a quick kiss and I touch the side of his face and look at him carefully, gauging his mood and general physical condition with concern in my eyes. He smiles at me excitedly, with a boyish glee shining in his eyes at the prospect of the adventure ahead. To most people, he looks like a strong, healthy man. I know the truth.

“Are you ready, Kate?” he asks.

“Yes.”

I take his hand, take a deep breath, and we jump in.
Together.

Bubbles swirl around us as we sink into the sapphire depths of the ocean slowly, and slight feelings of nervousness bubble up inside me too, but I release them, and I’m overcome by wonder and excitement by the sight of the sea’s mysteries unfolding all around us.

Schools of brightly colored tropical fish swim like delicately waving curtains and streamers in the water. Vivid corals rise up like castles from the ocean’s floor which we can’t quite see yet. The water is very deep here. But the light extends far down. It’s a bright day. The ocean floor comes into view soon.

Nothing we had ever seen or heard before in our lives could ever prepare us for what we see next.

A footprint shape in the sand on the ocean floor.

And then, there’s a path – it looks like a road, with what looks like two thin worn down lanes across the seaweed. Tire tracks. We follow the road in a daze, hardly able to believe what we’re seeing. I take Paul’s hand again, as excited as a kid. I’d always wanted to discover something amazing. I had always secretly hoped that myths and legends about the sea were true.

Not even the footprint or the sight of a road across the bottom of the sand could fully prepare us for what followed. Ahead of us, huge towers and turrets loom, curling upward and covered in barnacles and coral. But it’s obvious that this is not a coral reef we’re looking at, even though nature has begun to reclaim it. The elaborate palace appears to be uninhabited. What happened to the creatures who used to live here? Who were they? Are they still alive somewhere else? The questions flood my mind.

Suddenly, I’m yanked upwards, out of the water. I’m just a reader again, watching events unfold from a third person perspective. Kate and Paul rise up to the surface of the ocean and swim to the boat, chattering excitedly to the reporter on deck about what they had seen on the ocean floor.

When the yacht returns to shore, Kate & Paul decide to reveal to the reporter the meaning behind the ocean-blue sapphire ring Kate is wearing. Paul is dying. They were to have been married in a month, but he’ll be dead before the wedding date they had set. The ring was his way of saying he wishes he could have married her someday. Kate has tears in her eyes as she talks about it. And the tears and the ocean and the sapphire are all blue water in the story. It is life and it is death. And it is beautiful, unpredictable, and wild.

The rest of the magazine article blurs in the dream. I stand there holding the magazine in my hands blankly and I think that there must be more to the story. Suddenly I’m in a library, and I have found a book about Kate. Inside the book, there is a date. 1968 – 1969. This puzzles me, as I had understood the National Geographic magazine to be from a recent month. I started reading, finding the place where Kate’s story picked up where the magazine article left off. I had to know what happened next.

I dive right in to the next part of the story.

I’m Kate again. Paul is at home in America. He’s in his last few weeks of life, but he had begged Kate to go and see the underwater palace again and find out more. His curiosity was piqued, and he had to know what had happened to the people or creatures who had lived in the city.

I’m diving alone this time. Paul isn’t here with me. It feels different. I’m still excited about this solo dive, but I also feel a bit more nervous. I find the footprint again and follow the same road Paul & I had found on the ocean floor, up a slight hill to the wondrous, coral-covered palace. There were signs that it had been inhabited until only a short while ago. A discarded musical instrument made of brass, only slightly tarnished, but half buried in the sand. Home furnishings and décor hauntingly similar to things found in homes above the sea were scattered about at intervals on the ocean floor around the outside of the coral-covered palace.

And then I see something that stops me in my tracks. A pair of eyes protruding from the sand, staring sightlessly upward. Dead?

I start digging. A face takes shape around my hands as I dig. A strange body shape. Large, four-legged. It is bright yellow and it looks like a bear. I can’t make sense of it. I’ve never seen anything quite like it before. I pull the bear-like creature out of the sand. He seems grateful, and vaguely mumbles something about his name being “Mango,” and proceeds to give me a tour of the underwater palace. His mind seems to be dim, slow and rusty like the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz after his joints had not been oiled in a long time. He had been in a coma-like state buried there in the sand, possibly left for dead. Inwardly I question how a creature with no opposable thumbs could construct something as marvelous as the intricate palace we are wandering through. I set that mystery aside in my mind as something to find an answer to later.

Suddenly we reach a point in our climb up a tower’s staircase that stands above the water. As if being out of the water had sucked away Mango’s vitality, he suddenly has no memory of why he is here or what we are doing, but then, neither do I. He goes back underwater, but when I follow after him, he has disappeared, but I am able to recall what I am doing here: trying to discover the answers to the mysteries of this strange and beautiful palace and its inhabitants.

In the floor of an underwater portion of the tower, I see something that looks a bit like a manhole cover, but though it’s general shape was round, the outer edges were pointed like a star with dozens of points. I start trying to twist and pull at the trapdoor-like cover to see what’s beneath and succeed in opening it. A tunnel extends straight down in accordion-like folds of a durable, stretchy fabric. I am amazed to discover that I can breathe as I squeeze and push my way down it to try to find out what’s below. There’s air in the tunnel.

Suddenly I reach the end of the tunnel and I’m out.
I can’t believe my eyes! I’m staring down into another world. Something like a sun (how did they create a source of light underground?) burns brightly in an underground sky that looks, for all the world, just like the sky of the world above the sea. Crops growing in fields stretching across gently rolling hills wave in the breeze. People wander the streets, wearing brightly colored clothes covered with elaborate, ancient-looking designs done in appliqué. Remnants of the lost civilization of Atlantis.

They’re speaking English! Most of them are friendly, explaining that as their ancestors had had contact with the ancient peoples of the Earth above who spoke Latin, their language had evolved from Latin too. For some reason they don’t explain to me, their ancestors had taken to the sea, hiding themselves beneath the waves, shut off from the world. The coral and barnacle-encrusted palace which Paul and I had discovered was abandoned not long ago, and was now like the shell of the world below it. Like skin – dead above, alive underneath.

But not all of the people of that place were friendly to outsiders. I discovered this when I found I was suddenly awaking from having been murdered by someone who was against people from above entering their private world. The descendants of the ancient Atlanteans had some amazing technology which had raised me from the dead. There was a trial in which I identified my murderer, who was promptly punished by their justice system and …

I woke up, soaked in salty sweat and covered by my ocean-blue blankets. The fever that seemed to have risen in my sleep broke when I began to sweat. Waves of the memories of my fever-dream flooded my mind with wonder and excitement. I wish the dream had lasted longer. I would have liked to have dreamt more about the people descended from the ancient Atlanteans and asked them more questions about their history and how they had found and terraformed the place they lived in beneath the ocean floor. I’m really interested in myths of the lost city of Atlantis, and it was an amazing experience to dream about it!
Worlds Beneath
I had a really fascinating dream one night while my body was fighting off a fever. I woke up drenched in salty sweat, with the memory of the dream in my mind.
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When I look at women in my life who have chosen to remain single, they look so strong to me.
I look up to them.

I do sometimes worry that they might someday regret never having children, but ultimately, the strength, independence, and courage that they show in the choice they make seems very admirable. Some of them are simply open to maybe someday choosing a mate, but content in their singleness for now. They look so strong to me, and I do so admire their contentment in the midst of the uncertainty.

As for me, I feel like the hands of my biological clock are racing so quickly around and around and an alarm bell is screaming inside me that the sands of my time to reproduce are rapidly disappearing and that I need to do something about it. Immediately.

Do I really need to, though? Would it really be so bad if I never got married or had kids? Right now that sounds lonely, and the cold grey Washington skies seem to close in on me when I think of things like dying old and alone someday with no husband or children. But ... life is so much more than if you've got someone at your bedside when you leave this place. The world is not paradise. That inner yearning for something more is the longing for God and for paradise. It can never be fully fulfilled in this world. This world is full of death, tragedy, sin, poverty, and brokenness. Don't get me wrong - there's a lot of great stuff in the world, too, but it can never be paradise.

Life is more than our own personal fulfillment.
Life is the journey with God at our side. We're never alone. He's always there.
Life is about more than husbands and wives, children, family, or friends.

That private inward journey with God is the most important thing. It is the most important relationship, and the only one you can really count on. God will never leave you or forsake you - even when you doubt He's there, and even when you doubt He cares.

So yet another guy turned out not to be the right one for me. Yeah, it's tragic, and honestly I spent all day in bed, depressed, sleeping, reading, and alternating between intense grief and avoidance. I hurt from deep inside my soul and I was suffering. Yet another man did not choose me. That had to mean that I'm a terrible person, so screwed up that no one would ever want me so ... undesirable, unlovable ... and I was suffering, burning inside in my own private hell. So what if no one wants me? Is that really so bad? Maybe ... but - but maybe I could be more like the women I know who, while being deeply desirable and lovable, have chosen either never to marry or remarry, or simply to not give themselves to men who won't cherish them. They know they are precious, and they won't give themselves to men who don't know how precious they are too. My dear friends, men or women, don't forget how precious you are and how much God loves you. He adores you, and you are so deeply precious to Him. Don't settle for anything less than loving and being loved with depth, passion, and intensity - with someone precious who knows just how precious you are too. Bless you. Single or married. Happy or sad. Bless you right where you are. And be happy right where you are. You are complete right here and now, no matter who does or does not love you, no matter what you're going through: you are precious.

...................

I was on 2 dating websites, but this recent experience of "the date that never was" was so disillusioning that I got off both of the sites and now I'm not on any dating sites. There's a strange feeling inside me as I think of that - mingled emotions of relief (I don't have to risk rejection and pain anymore right now) and fear (loneliness, fear of being unwanted, alone.)

It is hard to love.
It takes a lot of courage. It is hard to give of yourself in that way and to open yourself up to someone and let them in. It can be brutally painful, sometimes, when you step out in faith and fall flat on your face. Love has its purpose in life and even can produce growth within us. I'm not saying love is a bad thing. Someday, maybe even someday soon, I'll try again. Maybe a different website or a few of them. It is a worthy quest, to find a soulmate. Sometimes I feel as if I was made without a match. And that I don't fit the men I wish I did. The guys on the website who sounded really solid in their relationship with God. Only one of them responded to me, and in the end, he rejected me too. But there's someone out there for me, maybe - even for me. And it will take another type of strength to reach for that. Someday, I'll begin that search, that quest again. :-)
Well, I've been on 2 Christian dating websites for a few weeks, and when I was just about to get off of them both and maybe try again in a few weeks, I was contacted by a guy who sounded really great. His profile spoke about his love for God and a passion for wanting to help victims of crime. He sounded great.

We sent some messages to each other, he gave me his phone number and I gave him mine. Then one day, I took the initiative and texted him. After a text conversation lasting several hours, we arranged to meet this Saturday (tomorrow) at noon at an IHOP in a town halfway between his town and mine.

But I haven't heard from him in 3 days, and when I texted him a few times today about our date tomorrow, he didn't respond at all. Eventually, in the evening, I texted him to tell him that I wouldn't be going out with him tomorrow. I told him that I've been through too much of this type of stuff in my life - guys I met online never meeting me in person, breaking dates, being late, etc. and them not texting me back for days after I texted them.

I'm tired of being a low priority in a guy's life.
When people get married, if their priorities are in good, healthy order, then the order of priorities in their lives should be:

God
their spouse
their children
other family and friends
their job
etc.

And when people date, they are moving towards the oneness and unity of marriage, they are moving towards the rearranging of priorities at which the person they love becomes a very high priority in their life. So if I was priority number 10 or lower in a guy's life, I could tell I'd never be number 2 in his life, even if I married him. I just couldn't accept that, being a low priority in the life of someone who holds my heart.

I don't know if a man can ever have passionate love for me and want to marry me. I don't know if I can ever be that to someone. I think that maybe there's something so wrong with me that a guy can't even feel that way for me. Or maybe I'm just too tired, old, sad, and jaded ... for someone to love me anymore ... I don't know anymore.

I just know that I'm tired of having my heart broken. How many times can a heart break before there isn't anything left to put back together again?
Today I lost my job.
I had a dog on the grooming table and was adjusting the grooming arm with the collar on it (before putting the collar on) - and the dog backed up and fell right off the table onto its back.

Thank God the dog didn't break its back and seemed to have no broken bones. It survived. Thank God.
But I still cried for about an hour after it happened ... in front of coworkers ...

What a sweet dog it was ... I'm just so sorry that it happened and so glad that the dog is alive and seems to have no broken bones (it was standing up and walking around afterwards). I'm terrified that the dog might have been hurt even though it didn't seem to be.

I resigned before they could fire me.
Walking away from the grooming table with a dog on it is an automatic termination, and though I didn't walk away from the table and I was within arm's length of the dog, I took my hand off the dog's back for a split second to adjust the attachment to the grooming table so that I could get the safety collar / groomer's helper collar on the dog, and the dog scooted itself off the table before I could get the groomer's helper collar onto it. I feel terrible. I'm not sure when I'll ever feel better again, and I have no idea what I'll do for a job after this. But I'm so deeply thankful that the dog is okay.

A job ... finding a boyfriend on a dating website ... those things can sort themselves out ... but thank God that dog is alive - and I pray that it is not hurt.

deviantID

songs-of-flight
Flight is freedom
Artist
United States
I am an AMK (adult missionaries' kid) who grew up in the Philippines. It was an amazing place and time and had a significant role in shaping the person that I am today. I still kind of consider myself as belonging to that country even though I live in the U.S.

I am currently in the process of moving forward toward various goals to try to minister to victims of sexaul abuse. I am writing songs, a book of poetry, and a novel on this topic. I feel such a deep calling in this direction. I want to help them.

Current Residence: in a land far, far away
deviantWEAR sizing preference: small
Favourite genre of music: dark rock (just The Rasmus, in that category ;)), alternative rock, Celtic, classical, techno, etc.
Favourite style of art: Pre-Raphaelite, Impressionism, Italian Renaissance, collage/decoupage, etc.
MP3 player of choice: iTunes/iPod
Favourite cartoon character: Shuurei Kou, Ahiru of Princess Tutu, Harima Kenji of School Rumble
Personal Quote: Life is a strange and beautiful mystery.
Interests

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:iconshikisaru:
shikisaru Featured By Owner Apr 26, 2014
hey :3 would u like to be a member of my UraYoru group :3? - urayoruship.deviantart.com/
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:iconunaleskazohar:
UnaleskaZohar Featured By Owner Dec 5, 2012  Professional General Artist
Thank you for watching. And I think you are a cutie-pie too
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:iconalecbell:
AlecBell Featured By Owner Mar 24, 2012
I have emailed you some MP3 files.
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:iconavalentine:
aValentine Featured By Owner Nov 11, 2011  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks for the :+fav:!
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:icondorkad:
dorkad Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2011  Professional Digital Artist
i hope you will enjoy your time
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