I've typed about three different paragraphs, each about completely different things. I can't quite decide what I'm trying to say; in fact, the best thing I can say is, "I don't know."
I don't know! I just don't know. Ask me what my favorite color is, and I'll probably (most likely) tell you that it's the color orange, so I guess that wasn't the best example.
But if you ask me what I'm doing right now, I have no clue. Ask me who I am, and I don't know. I used to know, I think... but then again, I don't know.
Being uncertain is such a weird thing. It's a state of being that I am not comfortable with. Maybe it's growing up, or maybe it's just "becoming." Who knows, really, because the time that you might figure it out... it's about over.
Seasons, houses, and hair color change, and here we are. We exist, we do.