A few days ago, I found myself attempting to find myself. The window which sits before us is rather large, perhaps you can tell what you see and I'll tell you what I see, as well. I'm sure the first few things which come into sight are the cameras, typerwriter, half of a coffee mug, car, shrubs/trees, paper, and window.
Initially, these are the few things which caught my eyes, as well, until I noticed the fact there was a book Interpretation of Dreams, a Canon, a Sony, an Underwood, a CRV, a mountain, a road, and my reflection which no one sees except for me.
I don't know where I'll end up because I don't understand my dreams, however, in the same breath, the road to and over the mountain is far and in order to traverse said mountain, I cannot walk, I must drive. My reflection stays hidden to you as it typically does to me; although there are moments when the sun shines perfectly down upon me and I'm able to catch a glimpse of a child that is stuck inside of a man's body.
In life, everything is named, sometimes the meaning to so much is lost before they're found.