where the wind blows

i hate being a chameleon. chameleons adapt to their environment to survive, its what i’ve been doing ever since i was a kid…adapting. I can get along with just about anyone, just about anywhere, and pretty much have a good time doing it. But i have no base, no origin… just changing,changing, changing. I’m looking for a base, a rock. What i have realized is that i’ve been forcing myself to find that base, that rock, in other people. Whether boyfriends, new friends or old friends. I’ve forced myself to think that they can be my rock. I don’t want to be a chameleon anymore, i don’t want to keep changing. I want to be a rock.