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Jillian Park

I love viewing creative sides of others and expressing my own creativity through writing, art, dance, acting, and song.

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  • 22 posts
  • Female
  • 01-01-70
  • Living in United Kingdom

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Jillian Park profile picture
Jillian Park
Translate   11 years ago

The Most Moderate Of Days CHAPTER 1 (A Story By YOU) BEFORE NOTE: After this chapter, the entire story will be controlled by YOU. Comment ideas for the next chapter below and I will put the best ones into the next chapter. Remember, anything can happen, so choose the next chapter wisely. You may contribute characters, events, settings, etc. Credit will be given to the contributors of the published chapter. So, with that, sit back, read, enjoy, and let imagination take hold. MEDIOCRITY Our story takes place in the town of Cafhen. Nobody knows where this town truly is, but who cares? It's a mediocre town, run by mediocre people, who live mediocre lives. Let's meet our first mediocre citizen named Laverne. Laverne is 16. The perfect age, am I correct? A mediocre height of 5' 2," a mediocre shade of brown brown for her hair, mediocre green eyes, and a mediocre overall look. Laverne never takes too much interest in #life for her thoughts are merely mediocre. One day, a radical young man came into the town. He was quite surprised by the sheer appearance of the town. It looked like a handsome suburb, but strangely, everything still seemed... Mediocre. As he continued to venture into the town further, he began to have a peculiar feeling about the town. Something didn't seem right, but he couldn't quite tell what. The man decided to investigate his feelings, so he entered into the local café. There he laid his eyes upon a gentle, kind looking employee. She looked about 16. He approached her with ease. "Young miss, I am new to this town. I can't help feel that there's something strange, but wonderful about it. I have made no friends here yet, so I thought to make you the first. What is this place?" She looked at him quizzically, "This is Cafhen. There's really nothing special about this town. #life isn't very exciting here. I'm just here trying to make something of myself, but then again, I'm a worker here." The young man smiled listening to the soothing tone of her voice. "If you want to make something of yourself, then why are you here if you don't like it? What do you want out of #life." With mediocre, sparkling green eyes she said, "I want to stand out. I want to change something, but I can't quite tell what. Anyways, I have work to be done, but welcome to town. Would you like a coffee or a pastry as a welcome gift?" "Yes, that sounds wonderful." Now, you are probably asking yourself why this man is here, and why does he take interest in the mediocrity of Laverne. Don't ask me. Laverne fixed the young man a coffee, but as she did so, she analyzed him carefully. She was full of curiosity about him (such as we all are). He seemed to be a man about in his thirties. He was wearing a a green and navy blue flannel with a hideous brown t-shirt underneath. His jeans clung to his calves tightly and his shoes indicated he had done much walking. They were torn sneakers with much dirt covering the tops. Could he be a traveler? Or had he simply just moved into town. Laverne couldn't tell how to perceive him, but he did seem kind. There seemed to be no bad intention in him, but she began to think about his question. What did she really want out of #life? Laverne handed him a steaming coffee and he sipped it with a warm smile. How could he be so happy in this mediocre town? What made him fancy #life? Why does he want to be here? "I never caught your name." She said in an awkward manner. "I'm Fredrick." "Nice to meet you then, Fredrick. I'm Laverne. I hope you enjoy the coffee." "I am, thank you very much." He started to get up in preparation to leave. Then, Laverne felt something fluttering in her stomach. She didn't want this man to leave. His peculiarity had struck her interest too much. She couldn't tell why, but he did. As he headed for the door, she said, "I hope to see you again. Maybe I can answer your questions better next time, and maybe the coffee will be better too." Fredrick laughed a bit to himself, "I'm happy to be welcomed so warmly. Thank you, miss." He pushed the door and walked out feeling jaunty as ever. This town may be mediocre, but it's a sweet town. He wanted to keep searching for the mysteries behind the town, and he knew he would be stopping by to see Laverne again soon.

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    Jillian Park profile picture
    Jillian Park
    Translate   12 years ago

    The Sensation Through me it runs It's a wonderful sensation Beautiful It gives me chills It controls me I feel my foot start to tap From my heart Outward it spreads To my hands My fingers start to tap It keeps on spreading My body feels warm I close my eyes dreaming A stage- Set with bright lights The sensation doesn't stop It's as if something has possessed me Outward more Through me More My mouth gently opens A feeling My throat A sound arises Notes Lovely notes The sensation peaks I can't stop My body won't allow it More The sensation My heart My throat My feet The best is engraved in my mind More The sensation My heart My throat My feet My hands I don't want to stop My body is Engulfed More The sensation All over Never ending

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      Jillian Park profile picture
      Jillian Park
      Translate   12 years ago

      My English Teacher Disgusts Me My teacher is known for being quite cruel to his students, but he said something today that made me terribly angered. He said that he doesn't believe young people could write good poetry. Immediately my mind came to thinking about how many wonderful young writers there are on Opuss. His lack of confidence in the youth of today was a but disgusting. If only he knew how wonderful each and every one of you writers here on Opuss are. Thank you, Opuss users, for being the counter example to my teacher's statement. Keep the amazing work up, everyone!

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        Jillian Park
        Translate   12 years ago

        Reality You never know how absolutely horrifying things are until the truth hits you. I was reading a story today in a detention about a young girl in a car crash. It was a fictional story, but very descriptive. It made me want to cry almost. The author gave such detail about the movements of the cars and the injuries of the passengers of the cars. Those paragraphs were horrifying to think about, and it scared me quite a bit. I always have had fears of car accidents and this did not help much. The other part of the story that struck me was the part about the mother's greif. To think of how terrible that would be- to be a mother with such a young, youthful, and successful daughter, and then to have that taken away... Awful... The horror did not end there though. Sadly, it didn't.... Late tonight, a friend contacted me. His sister had been in a car accident, and she is expected to be in a coma or months now. It wasn't until then it hit me that those stories and articles you read or see in the news about deaths and traumatic injury are so absolutely real, and they are also very close. I now sit here wondering, what if that same thing happened to me? What would I do then? What if my own siblings or relatives died today? How much grief and pain would that be?... I find myself with wet streaks down my face. Why am I crying all of the sudden?... Why am I crying now when these realities haven't happened to me? I guess I'm crying because I can't even think about losing those I love. I can't even begin imagine the position my friend is in. Someone he loves so dearly... So close to being ripped away from him, and to think, this isn't the first tragic thing to happen to him... Why do we complain about such simple things in our lives while others grieve over such things?... While others are worrying about much more important things. Be thankful, and Alex, I love you. (Please keep my friend and his sister in thoughts and prayers... I have used fake names by the way, and I am hoping the best for him and his family. Be thankful for what you have. We are only share these experiences on earth for so long.)

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          Jillian Park
          Translate   12 years ago

          A Fool "A fool doth think he is wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool." -William Shakespeare 'As You Like It" A #quote from one of my favorite plays. Cheers to Shakespeare.

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