The traveller is a question. A question whose call I have neglected to heed for as long as one can remember. Every time before that the face had made its appearance to me, I had neither the courage nor the inclination to decipher its intricacies.
But now I am stuck in the same unknown place as before... Stuck with an urge but no courage to match.
The question this traveller has for us is not one that can be answered with a sentence or a gesture, no. The answer lies somewhere else. Somewhere that few are able to find. My desire to find myself at this place is so great that I find myself in search of it with every spare moment that I am given.
My long waking nights spent investigating every niche, my long sleeping days hiding behind a curtain to misdirect my mind. I see myself behind the curtain, and I see myself in front of the curtain, yet i still can't comprehend the in-between.
I guess (cutting out all the emo shit) what I am really trying to get at here is that I don't know what I am... I know that's a little vague in definition so let me clarify: I do many things. I do charity, musical performance, scientific research, math homework, pwn in Halo, spend time with my girlfriend, socialize too much, socialize too little, sleep adequately, play basketball and volleyball, etcetera! Yet none of these things seem to be something that I can pidgeon-hole myself into!
Many do all these things, yet everyone else appears to have a defining trait. My only defining trait seems to me that I have no defining personality trait. I do many things. I do some of them better than others.
I am stuck at a crossroads in life sparked by the oncoming task of senior pictures. Everyone else totes with them their defining item: their instrument, their dog, their skateboard. What do I have?
For now, I have a thought. I have a pail full of them, I have a mind. I have myself. For now, this will have to do.
