My soul cries, cries loudly

I think that people may be surprised when they learn what types of adventure my inner fibres call for, what makes those cords vibrate like struck guitar strings. Their harmonics are different than the adventures I've had:

--Weimar (very much an adventure, as was col-portering before that)
--Living with my sibling
--Boston this past summer (Stanislavsky Summer School)

Although out of my comfort zone, they're rather...tame.

I want adventure. I want experience. I want knowledge. I want the sun on my face and danger near the door. I want to stop bleeding wounds and hearts and hear stories that touch me deep and fiercely. I want to help. I want to grow. I don't want to be complacent. I want to backpack across mountains, hear the rumble of avalanches and hunger and lions and bears. I want to hitch-hike across the country without a concealed weapon. I want to be tough. I want to throw myself into a project I believe in whole-heartedly and have it change everything. I want to teach and heal and be an expatriate. I want to see the stars and feel the wind and I want to help.

I've emailed some places for more information (like WWU student missions and the Peace Corps), but if you know anything that even sparks resonance with what I want, please let me know.