The next few weeks should hopefully be productive. I've always wanted to start a chapter in my life in a dramatic way. I've been sitting in the car on the drives home with my roommate, talking about how I'd like to leave my industry and just wear black and scarves and other crap all day long. I'd love to be an artist of some sort. Or get some new scenery, some new muse. Let's see how this one goes.
I think everything happens for a reason, but the reason is most often not the one we carved from our own imaginations, and there's really no use speculating on what the real reason is. Maybe we'll be old and grey before we find out. Maybe everything is just interconnected and beautiful that way.
