If the world's at large, why should I remain?
I keep having these ridiculously intense dreams about moving to NYC and becoming an writer. The first one was after watching Stranger Than Fiction (good movie, by the way) and reading a book until I fell asleep thinking "man what happened? did he get completely bored of writing this halfway through??" I was living in a loft, chilling, enjoying the scenery, and writing on my own timetable. Completely laid back.
So I was like okay, I can accept that. The next night, though, it hit again: I was a screenwriter and scribbling ideas in a little notepad during some sort of function, while actresses were trying to pitch ideas for movies wherein they'd find a lead role. Well fine, I'm convinced; I love me some dreams, and I guess I'ma go get some.
This weekend I've decided to accept a Chuck Wagon invitation to go play with them at a tourney in Hanover, despite the fact that it's going to be rainy, I rolled my ankle last Saturday, and I will probably get very little play time. Just seems like a good opportunity to get higher level experience, play with some good players, and maybe even learn something.
If all goes well, one day I will be the third little pig.
So I was like okay, I can accept that. The next night, though, it hit again: I was a screenwriter and scribbling ideas in a little notepad during some sort of function, while actresses were trying to pitch ideas for movies wherein they'd find a lead role. Well fine, I'm convinced; I love me some dreams, and I guess I'ma go get some.
This weekend I've decided to accept a Chuck Wagon invitation to go play with them at a tourney in Hanover, despite the fact that it's going to be rainy, I rolled my ankle last Saturday, and I will probably get very little play time. Just seems like a good opportunity to get higher level experience, play with some good players, and maybe even learn something.
If all goes well, one day I will be the third little pig.