open hands
Words: the bane and boon of my life.
So often I can only express myself through writing, I forget how to speak, how to articulate, how to verbalise my thoughts.
They haunt, they swirl, they get caught up in strings in my head- all tangled up in themselves that they stop making sense.
Words, and writing. I want to write for a living. I believe that’s a gift that God has blessed me with and to take his talent and bury it? What a waste, and what a fool I’d be.
The mid-week excitement fizzled to downright dismay and disappointment after my interview. I could practically see my future melting down before my eyes. To a great extent I was too idealistic: nothing ever stays the same and the standards will only get higher.
Ultimately, I thank God for godly counsel, and for people who are always around to catch me when I fall, but more than just that, they tell me to dust myself off, pick myself up and move on. I will, and I have.
When one door closes, a window will open.
Why would I have to worry when I know the big guy up there has charted my path?
Jehovah Jireh, my God who always provides: not the mediocre, but the best.
love
I think I’ve been too free to let my mind go a’wandering.
Ignorance is bliss ignorance is bliss ignorance is bliss. The less you know and the less you see, the less it’ll bug you.
Who said living in a bubble was a bad thing? Unrealistic yes, but not necessarily bad.
Just let Wednesday come soon so I’ll have something to look forward to.
In other news, I’m broke and in need of a holiday lest work kicks in before I know it, and then it’ll be byebye dawnie from there.
steps
God is very good. Little baby steps back into his calling for me.
My first interview as a graduate: next Wed!
*excites*
Oh how things have changed. I didn’t realise it, but it’s been 5 years!
Hi Caldecott, hello converging newsroom.
“Take a step, just the very first step, and it’s the start of a journeeey.”
the calm after a storm
From being so ridiculously stressed and busy during SPF Rock Stars to a sudden standstill in everything (including finances), I must say that I am quite thrown off by the switch in pace.
This morning I woke up in two-hour intervals starting from 8am (darn you tuned body clock), I didn’t find a reason to climb out of bed and so I went back to sleep till 1230pm. What a slob I am. Of course I made up for it: I cleaned my room, changed the sheets, washed my blanket, emailed my lecturer, filled in a job application form and printed and zapped my transcripts.
I think I’m becoming a workaholic, sitting still might soon be a foreign notion to me.
I am quite looking forward to going back to journ, but Aaron’s little warnings about the difficulties are making me a bit hesitant. Am I capable of holding my own opinions about issues, coming up with new story ideas, interacting with people, so on and so forth? I can’t even write a decent review. (I was quite horrified by my previously published review of John Banville’s The Sea, it was soo bad I wanted to crawl away and die)
And to think I was proud of having articles to my name. I didn’t have an article of my own, everything I wrote were diary events. But that’s the difference being an intern and becoming a journalist I suppose. Time to keep track of current affairs and generate them story ideas!
I’m also getting a bit confuddled with where God wants me to be. Should I stay in theatre for just this one year? Hmm. Oh well, may God speak loud and clear in terms of direction. In the meantime I shall enjoy my little break for now and stop being the worrywart workaholic that I am now. Oh well.
*twiddles thumbs*