I'm waiting for my adventure. A little broken, a little sad, but I like it that way. I feel like I belong somewhere else, and I write like it. I'm and hopeless at the same time. So much joy and so much deep pain, like I've been torn from some other existence that was meant for me. I'm depressed, but only when I think about the life I'll never have, living here on this rock, where I will grow up and work, and give birth and die, with no living in between. Despite this I am searching in my wardrobe for my lamppost,  checking my mailbox for my magical letter, and living each day hoping I am dragged away to fight a dragon or destroy an evil ring.