Too Many Questions  − 27 August, 2007

I feel a calling, I feel a pulling, a tugging at my arms and heart and soul to be SOMEWHERE. To be somewhere, doing something. I feel like there are answers to questions that I have, but not here. Here, I do not even know what the questions are.

I wring my hands. I frown. I'm not sure where I am supposed to be or what I am supposed to be doing. I think that I need something. I think that I need a moment of quiet to hear what it is that is calling me. I feel a stirring in me, a restlessness, a need that I cannot quite explain to my friends or my family.

I want to run. I want to do a thousand things. And I think. I. Am. Running. Out. Of. Time.