I don't know what to say. We talked about travelling and what it meant to Ben. arrive, meet, and go, arrive, meet, and go, over and over without ever planting roots. Sure, it's a way to maintain freedom from societal shackles, but it also leaves so much of our needs as humans unfulfilled. I tried to explain to him that leaving all the time would deprive a person of valuable self knowledge. I was about to tlel him that I learn the most about myself when I am truly involved in another person's life, when I have concern for them, and when I am engaged in what is going on. But the subject changed again, he fell against the car and spoke in circles for a few minutes. Finally, he told me that he felt unfulfilled, that he felt as if nothing would ever satisfy him, and that he was an alien in his environment. We cannot have it all. I choose stability, safety, self exploration and self absorbtion. These things are as temporary and functional for me as Ben's vagrant lifestyle is for him, yet when this lifestyle becomes obsolete, the seeds of something much deeper and more fulfilling will have been planted by it.
I told him that he will be many different people before the age of thirty, that his world view will shift like a kaliedascope of variables over the constant elements of his personality. The pieces will be the same, but they will be forever in a state of reorganization and resettlement. Nothing is for certain, and nothing is permanent. ASs long as we navigate with the surface level, basser parts of ourselves, and deny our minds the privelege of delving deeper, we will continue as slaves to our animal selves, satiating only in the moment, building only upon typical and limiting skills that any other speciese relies upon for survival. It can all be summed up in the rippling of a stripper's ass, vaguely puckered with the beginnnings of old-age and celulite. She will continue to present it, to sap it like a piece of fruit before the shallow, depraved eyes of equally hollow people until it is withered, and this approach will leave her, quite suddenly, destitute, with nothing else to sustain her, and no deeper understanding of herself to console her. The possessions I seek are those that will stay with me when everything else leaves, the things that are present when everyone else has gone, when I have forgotten all my notes at home. When I have nothing to show for myself, they are there, and I have confidence in them to carry me through most anything.