Sunday, October 12, 2008

People Will

Seven days and still no post until now. Earth-shattering, is it not? :]

Chock-full week, though. Really. Minimal stress regarding lab reports, but also minimal motivation to accomplish much else. Come to think of it, probably one of the most fun things I've done all week is work, which is pathetic and a little unsettling. Seems to me that the people that make me smile the biggest are located in the cafeteria, but then I think a little harder and that's all negated.

Because on Friday, Erin and Amy and I decided to enrich our silly lives with an ice cream trip and then parking ourselves on the lawn outside West Holmes and basking in the sun and making head dresses out of grass and listening to the Across the Universe soundtrack on Erin's phone. That's all that mattered. Just us and the October sky and leaves and grass and "all you need is love".

That night, for the first time in my history, I ventured out to a dance club with the community theatre chaps. Quite legit, but I could have done with a little more dancing and a little less...provocative nincompoopery from the ladies, so to speak? But things were a-okay in the club and I'm glad for the friends I've got; very glad indeed. :]

Earlier in the week, though, lots of things came together.

Like how all of my friends are unhappy and I, supposedly, am doing quite fine.

But Wednesday after seeing Alan and Carole Cullen, all I could think about was Ireland. I have been making every excuse in my mind to go back in a heartbeat, because I absolutely would. But would I? Everything I wanted is here in college. Or is it?

I spent my entire high school career planning my college career and now I don't care about it anymore; all I care about is what is happening in Galway. I've lost all motivation here as an Astrophysics major and I'm just floating in a world of insignificance because of it. Just...I know in the very deepest part of me that I could be so significant if...if I could abandon everything and go back.

Things might mean something again. Everything was replete with meaning. I survived on prayer. I survived on prayer. I thrived with every street performance. I could use my talents for...for good. For better...for freedom.

Or perhaps I am crazy; no such thoughts exist in my mind; I've imagined the whole thing. Perhaps I can't tell between real ambitions and faulty emotions because I spend half of my time imagining life and the other half of my time living life. It cannot be that way; I have imagined enough. I want something to be genuine; I want a life that matters.

The thing is, God is moving Ireland like He has never moved it before, and I cannot stay here and be content with praying from the sidelines.

I have to go back.


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