I flip around my sea-foam green Ipod between my pointer and middle finger, the music channellings through the white chord and up through the clip-on headphones and into my ears. I carry my Ipod most everywhere in school. The rattling sound that can be heard while I walk comes from my pocket, where a tin of eclipse mints resides, seven or eight mints remaining. I carry with me my cell phone, newly shining and shaking to greet the arrival of a new text message. I carry my headphones on my ears as they lay down the rug that christens the path to another world, two eyelids away. My fingers pulse from the vibration in my pocket as the screen reads Maybe. I carry my water bottle in my tattered messenger bag, for when you live in a desert dehydration is all too common. A fury of rapid thumb motions and I again carry my phone in my pocket. Maybe. I carry a list of colleges I need to look into and visit, colleges whose open house dates I have yet to discover. My mother carries the burden of helping me through this. I carry the burden of her burden. I want to go to college for theatre, where I feel at home and at peace. I want to go to California. I want to go to Chicago. I want to go to New York and Boston, I'll do anything to leave Tucson. Maybe. I carry my mom and my step dad, but they think they carry me. Maybe. I again see the screen shake and this time it says What Have I Missed? I carry a script to read, and learn more about the art I taste in my stomach. I carry my monologues and skits to recite on spot if need be. I carry my laptop. Well, it's in my car. But on it I carry every audition that isn't equity through an emailing list. What Have I Missed? I carry the Music that touches my brain and sends me somewhere else. The music that allows me not to think and just be. I carry the stage for the same reason. I carry each of my characters with a fire that ignites their souls. Because they can't live without my life, and I'm more then willing to lend them a soul. I carry Arty and Charlie and the Baker and the Hiker and Gooper and Josh and Tartuffe. Only I carry them because only I care about their existence and only I provide them with a channel to life. What Have I Missed? I carry the memories that bear on me grave lessons from middle school, though I'd rather be rid of them then begrudged, I do yet stay my hand because a regret is a memory that you have learned nothing from. What Have I Missed? I stay my hand because I know that if I don't I will have something else to carry, and my knees are weak. I stay my hands for everything but the receive my next message. Where To? I carry the sea-form green Ipod in my pocket now, It's not as much of a weight as a release that keeps me not in me. I carry my father's graying hair and his cold iron eyes as they swear to god they're gold. I carry the weight of this town on my car and my chest, a binding mass only able to restrict, and not to release me. Where To? I carry the thoughts of the colleges and towns that reach me by grandfather time's big arm. I carry the thoughts that come by the small one. I even carry the ones that come by flight. I carry the theatres that hold auditions and the one's that hold resumes. I carry the thoughts of love in my mind, the prospects and the ideas, but god, Where To?