Journal Entry

I just don’t know exactly what I want anymore. Is it adventure? A home? A dream? To know what it’s like to be close to someone? To have the strength to let people see that I’m vulnerable. It was so much easier chasing after a star. You didn’t have to think. You just had to keep moving forward. But I don’t know anymore. Can I still justify doing something because it will be fun and exciting? Because it makes all of me burn with a curiosity that’s hard to ignore? I feel so lucky to have had so many great teachers and opportunities. But I wasn’t really happy there. I think the disconnected loneliness was the worst. I’ve always had great friends and I have absolutely no right to complain. They kept me sane and moving forward. They helped me to forget the world at home. I know my family loved me and I cared about them so much that I just couldn’t understand why they would treat me like that. But school, drama, Egypt—they were nothing but my way out. My ways to ignore, forget, and avoid that place where no one knew me or wanted to take the time to get to know me. But what do I really want? In my search for an escape I stumbled on things I really love. But pursuing them makes me feel so guilty. I have this need to interact with people, to care about people. I don’t know why. But what is drama but a way of studying and trying to understand people. I love Egypt because I love the people. Somehow I can care about people who don’t exist or died hundreds of years ago. And so I find in myself this guilt when I think of going after my dreams. How are those dreams going to help the people I care about?