Christmas is almost over. Or, the celebration at least. But I don’t think Christmas really ever ends. And I am just thankful to be one of the few people who can confidently say that, yes, there is hope and, yes, everyday is Christmas day when you know you’re going to heaven.
Mmhm. I don’t want to sound all too preachy and goody-goody again… and sound like a chip off the mental block. A Jesus freak, a fool for Jesus. Well, that goes with the package. I don’t really mind though.
Rain check. I have dreams I want to achieve. Dreams I want to pursue – or get my hands on, at the very least. Some say that anything you chase in life moves away while others say that you just have to believe in the power of your dreams. You just have to have enough faith to follow that star, no matter how hopeless, no matter how far (Quixotically speaking).
Really now. After watching Hillary Duff in “The Perfect Man” and “A Cinderella Story,” I came up with these musings. Hah. As if I haven’t got much dreaming after 5 days of staying in bed, doing nothing but sleep because of my anitihisthamine dosages.
The point that I’m trying to drive at is: I AM AFRAID I’M GETTING TIRED OF WAITING. No, I’m not hopeless. I know he’s out there somewhere. And he’s definitely a lot better than Jag. Alright, Jag is somewhat the closest I ever got to the dream – after PS. But nah, Jag will just be a friend “forever.” I really have to get over and done with him, I mean, my "mission" with him and after that, it really is moving on time for me so I could be, uhm, free for Mr. Perfect Fit: the man who wouldn’t mind my past. The man who would just see me and love me for me (cliche!!!) in all my contradictions, in all my nauseous, dreamy states. The man who would just let me pursue – and support – my dreams of theatre, of writing, of countless adventures. The man who would see the lady, the girl and even the bi**h and just wouldn't mind having them all. The man who would be magnanimous enough to see that I cannot go on living for myself alone…
Maybe I really am such a dreamer.
My prince is coming soon. (And soon means, well, God's soonest possible time, not mine.)
For now, I have to be just happy.
And perhaps, powder my nose a bit more to my own delight. ;')