week five prompts

18. The earth has moved under your feet, gloriously!--and nothing will ever be the same again

What it's like for people who have ions of money and no worries? What it's like to wake up in the morning and not have to think 'how will I pay for rent this month?' or 'hopefully I hear back from all of the jobs I've applied to soon'. How do people bop along happily without worries?
I worry myself to sleep every night. I worry about money. I worry about school. I dread when I get the mail because there may be bills. Is this what life is going to be like from here on out? I worry that I haven't made enough friends. I worry that I'll die an old spinster.
But what if I sold a few of my photographs and became famous.
I'd get paid to do the one thing that truly makes me feel whole. Take pictures.
My grandfather always told me that winning half the battle was having a job that you enjoyed. He spent forty years in banking, and hated every day of it. I love my job now; working with children who have behavioral needs... but what if I got paid to take photographs.
I know I'm talented in photography. I'm not arrogant or even a very confident person, but I know that I have a talent behind the camera.
One day I got a million dollar agreement for my photography. I practically never have to worry about money again. A very strange feeling overcomes me... What do I do? I don't need a job. I don't need to go to college. I'm set for life with lots of money and I get to do what I enjoy and make money from it. Hardly ever having to lift a finger, I collect blasphemous amounts of money. And seemingly, I live without a worry.
I've rolled pennies for gas before; I've lived off of processed canned food. I've never been comfortable, so even though I can spend ridiculously, I still spend frugally. But I don't keep all the money to myself; I start charities, I help out my parents, I give it back to the world.
To some people,  my world changing in such a way seems like a blessing. It would seem like the ultimate best thing to happen to me. No more budgeting, no more buying the cheapest of everything.

But I still know that money isn't everything. It didn't give me happiness. I still have worries. I have so many people wanting so much out of me... I begin to stop enjoying photography. The one thing that was always what completed me - I find less passion in it. My talent is trickling because I don't enjoy it; I'm stressed that it isn't good enough. I worry that I'm not good enough. I just want to walk through the woods and take pictures, like I did when it was only a hobby. Even though I have a huge house in California, I'd rather be in Maine.
I'd rather be broke.
Maybe things are the way they are for some kind of reason. I may not have a lot of money and I may have plenty of worries. But in reality who doesn't? My grandfather also always told me that nothing that was easy was worth doing. He's always told me that challenges were worth it. When I got rejected by the college of my dreams, my grandfather said: "Life is full of kicks. Not small kicks; big kicks. Kicks right where it hurts. You've just felt life's first kick. It sure as hell isn't the last or the hardest. You just have to get up every time."
When I don't feel like waking up in the morning, I sometimes replay that in my mind, knowing that my grandfather was onto something when he said it. Life was never meant to be easy. What would the point me? I'll probably never have my own tv show, I may never even have photographs hanging in a gallery. I may never publish a book, I may never even make Dean's list. But maybe these worries that keep me up at night... Maybe they help me. I know I'm stronger now then I was before I lived on my own. Sure, my mistakes have bigger consequences now that I'm an adult and an independent, but the pressure is what keeps me going. I work 40 hours a week, during the school year, and I somehow find time to sleep.
But, ultimately, I know I'm blessed.
So maybe I don't want the world to move beneath my feet. Maybe I want to change things on my own.

21. You go on a journey.
I've decided to go on a cross-country road trip, by myself.
It's a journey I must take, to get to know myself. I'll pack up my crappy Oldsmobile and I'll just drive. I'll play some of my favorite Sinatra and Cash songs. I'll stop and take pictures at whatever I find interesting. Old diners attached to rundown hotels. Things in the middle of the desert like 'The World's Largest Beer Can'. I want to take a trip by myself and for myself. Maybe it's what I need to find myself. To find yourself I strongly believe that you must get lost first. Do things differently then other people; wear what you want, even if it doesn't match.
I have a specific friend who has a changing skin. Not literally, more like figuratively. She changes her actions and her points of view depending on who she's around.
I have never been that kind of person.
I'm pretty sure I know what kind of person I am, but I always have doubts. I always have moments where I don't feel all that great about myself. Honestly, who doesn't, but I think a long journey by myself may really help me in many different ways. I've never been the kind of person who needed people around me to feel secure. I need my friends and my family, but I can be pretty happy when I'm alone. I also can be pretty low when I'm alone. But I can test just how much I need people. If I can go on such a trip by myself with no problem, perhaps I am really not as alone as I think.
I read once that, if you ever get lonely when you're alone, maybe you're in bad company.
How do you test the limits of yourself?
I know people who, if they had to take a road trip by themselves, they'd act like a chicken with their heads cut off. They'd have no idea what to do.
On my road trip, I take off from my apartment in Old Town and roll my windows down all the way. I play my favorite music. I do pretty much whatever I want until I get to California. I meet extremely interesting people along the way, I take some really unique photographs.
I realize things about myself that I never knew before.


22. A stranger comes to town.

I had always hoped for that ridiculous romance where a stranger comes into town.
I can't imagine being swept off my feet, because it's never really happened before. I'm probably single because I'm picky, but I'm picky because I've seen what happens to those who let them self get hurt.
I've held friends as they cried. I watched as my sister snuck out our bedroom window with a backpack full of clothes. She threw a letter down on the bed for my mother. Her friend was waiting down the road in his car to take her to her boyfriend's house.
"Don't tell Mom." She warned as she climbed out of the window.
I also watched as my mother found the letter and tore it up. She threw it in the woodstove and called the police.
I watched later as my sister was escorted home, at 16 years old, by a policeman. This happened a couple of times.
I watched as my father punched the wall, because my sister was 14 and got caught running around with an 18 year old trouble maker. My sister's response at his anger was to knock down a table with a lamp on it. I ran on the stairs and hid, as the screaming continued for hours.
My mother and my father used to fight far too often, and again I'd hide on the stairs and listen, wondering why anybody ever wanted to fall in love in the first place.
I can remember meeting my father's ex-wife, the mother of my half-sister. She was nice, but all I was thinking about was the fact that she cheated on my father, and I've never been able to like her.
To this day, my dad will call me upset, saying that Mom told him to leave. Again. She did this every once and a while. They were having money problems, and she was accusing him of going other places when he claimed he was at work.
I'm 19, and I've never had a boyfriend.
For a long time, I've blamed my looks. Why? I guess I figured if I was pretty, I'd have a boyfriend.
Had I ever even met anyone who was worth all this heartbreak that I've always been around? No. Maybe that's why I'm single.
I'm still waiting for that stranger. The one who better sweep me off my feet if he wants my attention.
Do I want to end up like one of my very good friends, the one who falls so quickly that she's been heartbroken more times then I can count on my two hands? No, I'd rather be single. What about my other friend who is 19, as been with her boyfriend for 4 years and says that they've fallen out of love? I really don't want that. I especially don't want to go through the things my sister went through. She had a boyfriend who was in the newspaper for killing a domestic cat, she had one who told her she wasn't 'the one' and dumped her, and a boyfriend who dumped her via facebook. I love my sister, but she's had a ridiculous amount of boyfriends, and that's far from what I want.
I just want one stranger. A stranger who moves into town, perhaps. One who can show me that maybe there is more then just heartbreak.