There is a certain level of irony to this world… something that I will never comprehend. Yet, what never ceases amaze me is when things
seem so incredibly sensitive and convoluted but with just a simple show of honesty, or even a very candid conversation can bring things back to managable levels. Thank GOD for true friends!
…and I’m back home again… its 4th weekend straight not spent at my own school. I’d write more, but I need to be physically ready for tomorrow, so I’ll sleep. But here’s something I wrote a couple days ago… and still applies now…
February 17th, 2005
| 03:32 am – Busy I’ve been so busy lately, being really productive and getting so much work done. It seems like every hour of my life is scheduled to do something, be it classes, meals, meetings, even leisure time; it’s crazy how organized my (ideal) life seems to be becoming. Of course I don’t quite follow what I’ve assigned for myself, with ditching classes, skipping meals, and arriving late to meetings becoming equally as much a part of my routine. But, I’ve been surviving, thriving even. I feel like an engineer already, making the most “efficient” use of the limited time that I have. It seems all good… but something’s missing. As far back as I can remember, appreciated disorganization. Take one look at my room at home, and you’ll see the degree of how much I leave nature and my own tendencies to let things become what they’re meant to be. Even with my time, my ideal life would be to have enough free time to do whatever I feel I want, whenever. I think that’s somehow what attracted me to the English/Rhetoric major in the first place, being able (or not) to depend on the whims of creativity, and the chances upon my experience to be my main life’s drive. Yet, I knew I could do so much more, and slowly, I’m becoming a more perfect engine set for production. I’ve set my direction for now, but now I’m beginning to wonder where I’m headed. And of course, I’m wondering this once again as I was lying in bed, about to fall asleep. I miss… ah… the old adventure… |