A chameleon's ability to camouflage itself is a fear response. Something in its environment is detected as a threat, and instead of confronting it, it retreats and changes its colours. I am this way, too. I have been this way my entire life. The fear of not knowing who I am, of feeling as though I do not belong anywhere at all, has led me to change the very core of my being- again and again. I cannot stop this pattern. A pattern that is driven by boredom, the Devil's favourite play thing. If, like me, you're unequipped to deal with boredom (and it doesn't matter how many knives you have), you'll notice how quickly it's presence will mutate itself until it turns into a chronic emptiness. I spend most days trying to fill myself with anything at all, only to reach in a few hours later, grab whatever it was I deemed oh-so-interesting at the time, and hurl it right back to where it came from. My hands have grown tired and rough in the process.