Only Boring People Are Bored…Right?

So what is this thing called life anyway? For the most part I find myself content to some degree, brought to life by my daily ponderings and dreams of what may come of the seeds I’ve sewn in my youth. But what does that even mean anymore?

I’m supposed to be happy right? I am blessed to have a job, I’ve found a church I enjoy, I have a house, friends, great friends, but in my estimation this is all insanity. I am special. I am. Perhaps everyone else will disagree, but I know deep in this place I like to refer to as ‘my soul’ that I am meant for something great; to accomplish the extraordinary. Because surely the fearlessness to speak my mind at such a young age can’t be for naught. I’m pretty certain that there is a determined leader, outspoken politician, enbolden sailor, a free traveler, a sword swinging, gut laughing heroin deep inside and I want it.

But its not shining yet and at times I feel hell bent on destroying it all with a wild affair or abandon travel. I want it now. The desire for the great adventure groans from within and with fear I seem destined to reach for anything that is beyond my current circumstances. Seriously, do I work in a cubicle? Is this everyone’s idea of a good time? Its no wonder that we laugh at Office Space and Dilbert, because its ALL A BIG JOKE!!!!

I will have my destiny. In the meantime, I hang on by this very thin string that I call ‘faith’. May it make me sure of what I hope for and certain of what I can not yet see.

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