I eat life like chocolate chip cookies

I had to write an essay about what I hunger for in life. This essay, perhaps a strikingly unusual, childish essay, is the only answer I knew would be truthful. Maybe you can find truth in it as well.

Richard Wright once said that there is a "hunger for life that gnaws in us all." It is a quote that I find resonates with many of us. Everyone has that desire for something more that wrenches at our gut, pulling us forward until we are dizzy with confusion. What is that more that we all seem to be ensnared by? If you come a little closer, I'll whisper a secret to you, I'll whisper-- or at least type in a whisper-like fashion-- to you that one thing that has wrenched at my gut so often, it's grasp is imprinted there. An Adventure.

You see, I know exactly what I want and I want it so badly that tears form in my eyes as I think of it. I hunger for an adventure. It may seem silly or pure fantasy, but adventures may sneak upon you in many different ways, from a simple, unexpected friendship to something on such a grandiose scale as discovering a continent (granted the likelihood of discovering a continent in this age is nil). People are out having adventures as you read this: people are facing their fears, falling in love (which is always an adventure), just last year, a seventeen year old boy sailed around the world by himself.

I do not yet know what adventure I will take upon, nor do I know what adventure might find me but I do know why I want one, to discover who I am. The word adventure comes from the Latin advenire which means to arrive. I would like to believe that this arrival is the nature of adventure, to arrive at the discovery of oneself. Adventures, these new and strange experiences we find ourselves having, are more often than not risky, mentally and/or physically, and which risks we take, which risks we find worth taking or not, what we truly care about or not, what morals we will stick to or what morals we never really had, tell us more about ourselves than anything else possibly could. Perhaps, that more that we, or at least I, lust after, is not truly more perhaps we are only seeking to discover what we already have.

Soooo....

So. So. So. I sit here now, in bed, on a Saturday afternoon, at 3, without pants on because I was wearing sweatpants and I got too hot but I didn't feel like turning the heater off or changing into shorts, in the aftermath of a mental breakdown. Do you know what my schedule has been like for the past month? You do not want to know because I have been taking nine classes including a college course after school and teaching myself Latin. With ten million clubs to go to but didn't have time for, applications for various things left undone, and soccer practices before our first and last play-off game that I had to skip. I spent my time with Google, textbooks, and the Golden Girls on hand as I pet my cats and stuffed myself with TV Dinners and king cake.

So, here I am now. Everything is more or less the same with the exception of soccer which *thank god* ended last night, and one would think that I would have had many nights of crying and screaming and decisions made to just flunk all of my classes, you know, the usual when I get stressed. This time though, something even WEIRDED happened. I snapped. It wasn't a big thing, but all of the sudden I started singing Disney songs in the middle of class picking out mismatched outfits, talking to smiley faces I draw on my shower and doing things like not wearing pants and fussing at my parents when they offered to clean my room for me.

Now, I do not see an end to this until May or April and next year when I start college applications, I foresee it being worse, but as my insanity increase, I promise it will at least me entertaining and that it will not effect my ability to write-- which I will try to do here again soon. Good afternoon. I must go and feed my fish and memorize all of the presidents in order.