Finish Line

14

I feel amazing. I haven't thought about Dylan in two days. I've been busy at work on new articles. I've been working on a piece about the importance of small towns. Boston is hiring a student journalist to write for his magazine. It's down to me and this other girl from London. She is an amazing writer with incredible talent. So I'm trying my best with a new article. I've proposed the idea to Boston but he thinks he has a better idea. He wants me to write about Dylan. He wants me to explain why things that can be most harmful to us can be so attracting. He says that using a personal story such as this one could be the perfect article to get me the job. 

It's a well paying job, full time, in Santa Barbra. This way I could move there full time and start my life off right. He wants a powerful female role model. A person that the world can someday look towards as the most powerful woman in the world. I want nothing more than that itself. 

That is my last resort. I'm trying my hardest to start my career off without using my Dylan experience but if I have too, I will. That's the least Dylan could do for me after everything he put me through. 

I sit outside on my beautiful deck and type away. The walkman plays a Beattle's CD through my headphones. I soon realize how boring this article is. I try to start a new document, brainstorming new ideas. Everything I try is absolutely awful. I almost want to cry looking at it. 

That's when I start to write about Dylan. I work different angles and start an incredible story. I hate it. I don't want to use this to get this job but I want the job. I write it as a last minute choice if I can't write anything better. If I can't do better than this then maybe I don't deserve the job. 

I shut my laptop and decide to go for an inspiration exploration. I discovered that when I go exploring, I usually find an incredible inspiration. It's so helpful! So I skip back inside and upstairs. I find my outing backpack and begin to stuff it with important exploration needs. I put some sunscreen, some headphones, some sunglasses, some water bottles, some Gatorade bars, what's left of the bag of taffy I purchased at Bruce's Candy Kitchen, a book I bought at Powell's when I went to Portland, and my keys. I threw on some sneakers and walked out the door sporting a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. I threw my hair behind my shoulder as quickly as I could and hopped in my car. 

My mom is at work today so I don't have to worry about bothering her. I speed off towards Portland. The drive up there is gorgeous. It's surrounded by trees and forest. I plug my phone into the aux and rock out to some Miley Cyrus because she's a queen and I will forever love her. It's a three hour drive but I finally arrive. I begin to explore the culture filled city. However somehow I always find my way back to my favorite place on Earth. Powell's bookstore. I adore this store. It's four floors of pure literature. If I got a piece of my writing in there I would die of happiness. 

I begin to explore around the store finding pieces of writing all over. However none of it stands out. I see books about romance and I see books about motivation. I see all the books from A-Z and there isn't anything that I would want to read. Well there is but as a reader I want something powerful, something that will make me stop and stare. Something that will change my perspective on the way I look at life. Something that grabs my eye and something that pulls me in. Something that better yet, never lets go. 

That's when it hits me. The perfect piece. My laptop is sitting comfortably in the front seat of my car. Tucked away under some random stuff obviously. I walk out of the store and then run to my car. The next step is finding the perfect place to write this. So on my way home I discovered a road in the trees. I followed it in a bit to a hiking trail. I parked my car and grabbed my bag. With my laptop in my hands I began to climb the hill. I found a beautiful pond, surrounded by trees. The most stunning view I've ever seen.