As I lay here on my inflatable mattress, tangled amongst the sheets, I find myself unable to find rest. How long has it been since I last been kept from sleep's peaceful embrace? I know not. But my mind does wander, as per usual, too fast. I have barely the time to stop and tie my shoes at the pace things turn.
It's been a year. It's been quite a year. So much has changed, and yet so much has not. Not to say I am unhappy, but I look at myself, and see new colours, a little older, a little colder, but the face is still the same. Still familiar, yet among the crowd, well blended despite the usual feel that something's different. Something nonsensical even to myself.
And in this state of eternal stagnating flux, I see many faces. And I smile, and laugh. My persona... cheeky, talkative, always trying to sound smart, and yet I see myself not mingling amongst the intellects whose lives are dedicated to finding what little sense can be pulled from this life. Because it's senseless... Trying to be anything different than what I am. And so I roam, free-spirited, doing as I please, wondering what the world will think, and yet despite the tinge of guilt when backs turn, disinterested, or disgusted, I am content, knowing that there is still a place for me. There is a place among the passing clouds, under the night sky, in the crowd or on the clifftop, alone. I make my place. I'm a traveler, seeing the sights of wherever the wind takes me. Someday that wind may blow, and I may disappear again, into another crowd, a new chapter in my life. We all live, grow, laugh, cry, and in time, we change. And yet looking at all of it, we still stay the same. We are still as we always are, striving to grasp maybe the smallest of glimmers of... something. Whatever that is. See, I don't even know what I'm traveling towards. Sure, we all have goals, hopes, dreams, things that make us happy. But we all have a direction we go, and we don't always know why we are called down the paths we take. But we're all going somewhere. All we can do is hope that it takes us to the silent promise of this something.
...so... we travel on... Sleeplessly. Sometimes not making much sense, but... just smile, laugh, and enjoy yourself. There isn't much else that matters if you can't at least do that.
- Random scribbles from a Random mind. Compliments of insomnia, most likely to be followed by embarrassment. But randomness is what this board is for.

