I want to write. I want to write about something that I am so stubborn about. Sometimes I wish I were an opinionated philanthropist!!! I admire you people who are. I wish I could just go on about a subject and argue for hours my side of the matter and win every time. I wish I were this fiery journalist you see in the movies who sees something that infuriates them and they just write for hours and in the end come up with a clever piece of pure, beautiful work. Sheesh…
Does this make me boring? I don’t know… Ha… But I think it does.
But I sadly don’t have the knowledge or confidence to ever engage in those scenarios. Because in order to be such a person, I would have to risk starting conflict. I hate conflict. With a passion. Ugh, it makes me cringe and my stomach gets all knotted up.
So I suppose the writer God made me to be was a cheesy, hippie, cliche writer. Although it doesn’t feel cliche to me. Because when I write it’s in its most original form, no matter who ever wrote something similar to it. I don’t know. I’m simple, easily happy, really laid-back, and individual. And this post might just be the most bipolar jumble of words you’ve ever seen, but I’m glad I am who I am. If God made His masterpiece as such, why should I try to pull out my pink eraser on it? It only smudges and misconstrues His and mine point of views from ever looking at myself in the same way. Does that even make sense? The more I hate and badger on myself, the further away my perspective goes from God’s perspective.
Really, I’m just blabbing now. But I guess you have all learned another aspect of Casey today. Meh. I just did that in like ten seconds. All in all, call me a happy camper. I started out in disapproval and I’m typing this last period with satisfaction and gratefulness.