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I haven’t yet come to fully understand the psychology of my peers. I know that in the very least we are different. Though, we all seem to be craving something more, bigger than ourselves. I know I yearn for something beyond myself, something I can truly just loose myself in, something so vast and merciless that I could only hope to end up begging to return from.

Our everyday. It is these words that haunt and dim our souls, which hollows our eyes and turns us against our passions. When we know the outcome, and that which we truly do know, for everyday it is the same. We awake in bed, just like yesterday. We go to sleep, just like the night before… in that same bed.

I wanted to get away, so I joined this trip, a stupid thing, doesn’t mean anything at all, just a grade for school. I don’t know why I’m even going, nothing seems to matter, nothing ever really has a point when you know the outcome. I know that when I arrive, my bed will be different for a little while. Though, in the end, I will return home, and sleep in my bed again.

It is because of this knowledge alone that I must seek and adventure, that even though having another bed to sleep in for even a month means being somewhere, where the ending isn’t the same, where I don’t know, where no one could know.

I hope the others are nice.

Last known writings of Roky Pencer dated June 14th, recovered from an Oxford dormitory July 26th.