I love adventure,

                                      but hate the unknown.
                                                                                     How miserable is that?

I love adventures where 
I know where
I’m going (McConnel Springs)
and how (walking along a lovely shaded trail),

                                      but hate the thought of 
                                      alighting onto UK’s campus to
                                      face a major I’m uncertain
                                      is the one for me. 

Miserable, isn’t it?
How a simple,
common,
fear keeps me grounded,
half emerged from
my cocoon, when I know
to spread my wings
may invite a
wonderful adventure.