I feel… strange. Like I want to push everyone away from me. Yet I want them to be with me all the time. It’s odd.
I miss my Aunt Beast, even though I saw her two hours ago. I guess I just want to talk to her more. It’s weird.
But I just want to write. I haven’t wanted to write passionately for a long time. I just want to write everything and anything and to have it feel good. I want to write about life. I want to write about love. I want to be deep. I want to be poetic.
I want to love God like I’m supposed to. I want to be the Christian I’m supposed to be.
It’s strange how I connect writing and God. I think expression and God are intertwined in a lot of ways. David was a poet. Solomon was a writer.
I think that since I will be home next year, and perhaps the next, that I will focus a lot of my time on improving my creative writing. On making my ability to express myself key in my life.
I want to be a writer again. Not just an English major.
More on this sometime later.
I have to go get 2-3 cucumbers, 2 things of grape tomatoes, and a giant container of sour cream.