To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.
How true. How horribly, sadly, shatteringly true. How many times have there been remarkable people, full of potential and curiosity, that simple go through life doing what they must to live the typified American Dream of a nice little suburban house, 2.5 kids, a quiet and house trained dog, and a steady job?
How many people just.... exist?
It can be argued, quite rightly, that what I call 'simply existing' might for some be living a joy and wonder-filled life. But it can also be said that each person must live his (or her) own life.
What I've often wondered is this: Will I be brave enough, strong enough, clever enough, and free enough to really live the way I want to?
Will I be brave enough to travel around the world and see the real wonders? Will I be strong enough to do it on my own, if I have to? Will I be clever enough to ensure my own survival and the survival of my loved ones through hard times? Will I be free enough to go where my heart desires?
For years, it's been my dream to leave after high school on a round-the-world trip. I've wanted to go for Brandi and bring her along for (I think) three of those years. I don't want to fly across the ocean and stay in a swank hotel, I want to walk across Europe and see the countryside on my own, finding my own money, food, and shelter. I want to find the greenest, grassiest hills in Ireland and sit on them for a time. I want to see the ruins of Ancient Greece, and the Pyramids in Egypt, and the Great Wall of China. I want to visit a traditional Japanese shrine and see Buckingham Palace. I want stand in the Eiffel Tower and ride a gondola down the waterways of Venice. I want to do it all and more with Brandi right beside me, and I want to be able to make sure she's safe on the trip.
To do all that, and then come back home to hug my friends and family is what it means to me to live. And I really, really want to live.