There's something happening here, what it is ain't exactly clear...
I'm nervous, scared even. Last night I called my parents to tell them that I booked my flight. My Dad was like, 'I thought you weren't coming home 'til July?' It was wierd hearing his voice say that, and my Mom glad I'm coming home but both seeming oddly uncertain? That's not the word but...hmm. She seemed I guess, maybe sad for me. My Mom who's started to really believe in my potential and my dreams...she seems sad that nothing is working or seems to be thus far. It just felt wierd. I could just be paranoid. I can be very paranoid about decisions...
I had a dream last night that I went back on the theatre tour. It was a bad dream, suffice it to say, involving many wierd conversations and for some reason ended with Dave and I trying to kill this god-aweful bug that kept flying around and attacking me. Ick. I'm sure it doesn't really mean anything, but it unnerved me.
I just want to say that:
Lord...if you don't want me returning to Vancouver in May then make it abudantly fire-works, job offer, script sale, random Christian stranger message from God, burning bush obvious. 'Cause I can be dense and this decision makes sense on all kinds of levels.
Even hearing from Nick saying 'Maybe it's just not time,' and me nodding for the first time when normally if people say, 'it's not time,' 'you're so young,' I want to deck 'em because I feel that I am different. I still do feel that I am different...but I also know that I can write in both places... and that in Van I can be with family and get a job (in theory) to support myself til my writing does.
I'm baffled this morning. Confused. Where does confusion generally come from? Oh right...not God. Right?
I need to create a new word to sum up this feeling. There probably is one but I just can't find it.
I had a dream last night that I went back on the theatre tour. It was a bad dream, suffice it to say, involving many wierd conversations and for some reason ended with Dave and I trying to kill this god-aweful bug that kept flying around and attacking me. Ick. I'm sure it doesn't really mean anything, but it unnerved me.
I just want to say that:
Lord...if you don't want me returning to Vancouver in May then make it abudantly fire-works, job offer, script sale, random Christian stranger message from God, burning bush obvious. 'Cause I can be dense and this decision makes sense on all kinds of levels.
Even hearing from Nick saying 'Maybe it's just not time,' and me nodding for the first time when normally if people say, 'it's not time,' 'you're so young,' I want to deck 'em because I feel that I am different. I still do feel that I am different...but I also know that I can write in both places... and that in Van I can be with family and get a job (in theory) to support myself til my writing does.
I'm baffled this morning. Confused. Where does confusion generally come from? Oh right...not God. Right?
I need to create a new word to sum up this feeling. There probably is one but I just can't find it.