This is what I know. I am seventeen years old and trying to approach the ponderous task of getting into college. As I glance over essay topics, apathy sets in, as I begin to think that I am boring, dull, prude, torpid. Rather than experiencing the flood of an inchoate mass of ideas, I begin to think that I’ve never done anything worth any merit in my life and as I desperately try to scroll through experience, my mind strays further and further away from the concrete. Drifting into what seems like nothingness, I feel like I’m falling into a rabbit’s hole just like Alice. Hopefully, I will find my source of inspiration here, amidst an imaginative, chaotic world. But this isn’t a fairytale. I survey the landscape, and there isn’t a crazy White Rabbit or Mad Hatter or Red Queen in sight. Is this my destination? Do I even have a destination? Am I going mad? Clearly, I need to stop watching psychological movies at midnight.
There appears to be a forest nearby. Perhaps I will stumble upon a spring of water that imparts immortality to its drinkers. Or encounter a talking beaver under the radar. Endless possibilities, that’s what I say. Just have to remember to keep an open mind. I soon find myself drenched in tacit words, profound, unspoken. I wait like a transparent eyeball, silent and inconspicuous. I think to myself, Today is where my book begins; the rest is still unwritten.