It’s Saturday morning, 6:43, and I’m wondering why I don’t feel like a real adult. I look at other people on the street, online, on their way to work, on the phone and I realize I don’t act like that. For a second or two I feel ashamed and a little embarrassed. “You’re too goofy and free spirited, you’ll never accomplish anything like that” I say to myself. But this is who I am. This is where I’m comfortable. And somewhere inside of me is a tiny, feisty, redheaded leprechaun that absolutely refuses to let me act the way others do just to fit in.

Maybe I won’t accomplish anything worth while to you, but at least I’ll never have to sacrifice my identity to be part of the crowd.

It’s lonely here. And I’ve forgotten how to interact with society.

Balance is just out of reach. I guess I’ll just have to run faster.