I Don't Think The Crazy's Gone

But I'm not.

Today has been one of those brooding days. I spent nearly the whole of it wondering what I really want in life, what I really believe, and what I should do about it all. This, of course, means that anything that should be done about it doesn't actually get done because of the brooding.

I always seem to have two people fighting within me, dueling over each and every issue in life. On one side is the devout Christian who was ready to give up everything, move to the jungle and become a missionary, one the other side is a champagne drinking, diamond wearing gold digger who is ready to put on her new stilettos and head to the opera... or rather star in the opera... (Since they are internal waring figments of my imagination I figure that I get a little lisence for embellishments on my talents.)

There, though, lies a common problem with me. Either way, my ambitions exceed my talents (or at least my discipline).

I suppose if I am honest, if I felt no obligation to any outside forces, I would be an opera singer. It's only the sometimes faith and feeling that I should be serving rather than singing that keeps me from doing so... that and discipline as previously mentioned.