Is Happening Right Now. It's just that when I drink coffee and walk my creative juices flow faster, even if there's nothing for them to carry along with them.
I'll paint it for you with words, because I can't actually paint. And I don't have a camera.
I'm on my own little wooden bench under a tree (hoping not to get shit on by birds, mind you). It's the right amount of worn and the right amount of uncomfortable or I would sit here forever. It's shady with patches of sun where the buildings aren't blocking anything. Yellow leaves are drifting down from the nice blue 60 degree air. Someone was doing laundry when I first sat down and I keep getting whiffs of the dryer. Bay state always smells like clean laundry.
I planned out all my classes. CAS, requirements, wtf am I doing with my life, but you know, felt very accomplished. Until I walked into CFA for the first time where there was a chorus rehearsing, a piano being played, brass noise, a set being designed, and I realized how much I belonged there. I'm so afraid that I don't have the talent to do what I want to do, but I need to prove myself wrong, I need to try. I felt like I was in a fucking movie or something, but I just started crying. I would have been a wreck had I not run into Claire on the way home.
I don't know what I want. I don't know where I'm going, but I do know where I am.
That's something?
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