What is it about the unknown? Whether it intrigues us or terrifies us, it’s nevertheless captivating. How can a human explain that? In words? Honestly. Whether it’s a book, a place, a room, a person…the unknown is mesmerizing. Why?

I know why. But this is only for me. This goes for no one else. Just me.

I love the unknown. It has never scared me. It has captivated me. Just the thought of striking off, by myself, to a place that I have never been to excites me.

I visited Europe this past summer. I saw London, Rouen, Paris, Luzerne, and Cologne. I have never been to any of them but London, but I was very young when I went. I loved every second. I loved the cultures, the languages, the feel, the smell. It was the most amazing experience I had ever had. I went on this trip with my school; my classmates were always buzzing around me. I loved being with my classmates, but parts of me always wanted to break away from the group. I wanted to explore on my own. I wanted to immerse myself with the land, I wanted to be part of it by myself. I hated the thought of being a tourist. The tour bus rides almost killed me. As soon as I stepped off one, I would scamper away from it so those around me wouldn’t suspect me of being part of a tour. I wanted to breathe the surroundings in by myself. I wanted to break away.

That trip opened up a new world, one that I couldn’t fully explore. I will re-explore it soon. I can feel it.

On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I have two school periods free. An hour and a half. Ninety minutes. Five thousand, four hundred seconds. Enough time for an experience.

In that time slot, I can do whatever I want. Normally, I just go home, bang around on the computer, spend time with my dog, and go back to school. But not this time. I want to walk. Just go out those double doors, close my eyes, and start walking. I don’t care where I go. I don’t care who sees. I don’t care who cares. My feet will take me away to somewhere unknown.

It snowed yesterday. That was unexpected. Maybe when I start walking, it will snow again. And it will keep snowing. I’ll wear its shroud and I’ll walk. Maybe I’ll sing. I’ll explore. Who knows where I’ll go. Getting there is half the fun. It’s the coming back that may hurt. Re-entering well-known territory can be an awful experience. For most, it’s comforting. For me, I just want to get out and start moving again.

The unknown is a comforting thought. I can’t tell you how glad I am that there are still places no one knows about; uninhabited places. I want to see those places. I want to breathe them in and never breathe them out. But don’t misunderstand me. I want to see, to feel. Not conquer. I want to slip into an unknown world, and leave it unknown. I don’t want the land I walk on to bow to me like mortals to a goddess. I don’t want it to worship me. I want to worship it. I want to take in its beauty, its mystery. And I don’t want to leave any footsteps. I want to walk away, and lock the doors to the land. I want it to remain unspoiled. It would kill me if it became unwild. The term unwild is underlined with a red line in this document. It says it doesn’t exist. But it does. I don’t ever want a land to become unwild. Those out there may use the word “domesticated,” or perhaps “tamed.” I choose not to. I choose “unwild.”

Carpe Diem. Robin William’s choice words. I watched that movie today. It never ceases to inspire me. And he’s right. Seize that day. Grab it, and hold on. But be careful not to strangle it. Hold it tight, cup it in your hands, but let it breathe between your fingers. Maybe you will find something unknown.

Carpe Diem.

Seize the day.

S e i z e t h e d a y .