Candy Farm

Someone told me last night that my blogs are like candy.  But like really good candy, cuz it makes you feel good, like fruit.  I thought that was pretty awesome.

The truth is sometimes I wish I could write what’s really on my mind, but I’d probably shock a couple relatives and burn some bridges, so it’s best to stay family-friendly.  Suffice it to say you wouldn’t BELIEVE what’s in my journals. ;)

I suppose it’s the difference between planting a seed in people and being totally open.  Often times, I am far too impatient to let something grow and I usually go full-throttle in my pursuits, which tends to sabotage opportunities for myself, especially in the man-department.  I poured my heart out to a stranger at the theatre last night; I figure people are the best resources in times of frustration.  I thought perhaps this unknown person, with all his years of living, could help clear my mind, could give me good advice, could tell me what I wanted to hear and solve my dilemma but in the end, planted a seed himself.  Or at least that’s what he told me I should do.

I once spent an entire evening at a party asking someone about their life story.  I was 14.  I wonder if he still remembers.  We totally bonded though and even if he probably thought I was weird, we had an understanding for the rest of high school.  Remember that, Paul?

The theatre sure brings in some talented folk.  Sometimes stragglers show up out of no where and find themselves a great place to hang out for the night.  I’ve met some interesting people with interesting stories and crazy stories have happened between those brick walls, but that’s just all they are, right – stories.

How you go about telling your story is what it all comes down to.  It depends what you want.  Are you going to leave some parts to the imagination or are you going to be an open book?

Maybe that’s why I’m so bad at reading.  I’m so impatient I just want to know up front whether or not it’s worth my while.  I’m the same with people but I like to think I’m better at giving them a chance than my books.  My poor, bookmarked, unfinished, shelved books.  Someday I’ll read you.

As far as people go, I think I’m a bad farmer.  But I must tend to my own garden; it’s in my own seed I must trust.  Deep like trees.

Well, Spring is a time for planting, it’s logical that I should see new love on the horizon, much like a farmer must envision his fields, so let it be known, a seed has been planted, at least in one lowly heart.  It remains to be seen if anything shall grow elsewhere, and whether or not it will be viable.  Send me some sunshine (and patience- lots of it)!

Tricky Woo, but I wish it wasn’t,

Katie