spelling bee.

It's funny; I just got out of a 3-hour final discussion in my honors seminar where we examined the past and its effect on the present, and all I can think about is how I would like to know the future.

Last night, I had an epiphany. I need time to get over all of my insecurities, to learn about new places and things, and to learn what, essentially, drives me. I want to know my true potential, not the potential taught in television shows and bad romance novels.

So now I ask myself the same thing my professor asked the class at the end of the final today: Does a departure from what you once knew entail a return?

I hope it does.

Because there are some things you can't pin down. And those things-- those inexpressible things, those things that words will never describe, those things that words can only reach out to and pull back with hands full of empty air -- are the things that lie at the very base of life: things that I will not label with a single word. There is no combination of letters that would describe such notions (especially not e, o, v, or l). But knowing that you can feel them offers a sense of hope in an otherwise unattainable mess of communication.