Wants another world. Collects pieces of it.
You're always a little homesick for a world you haven't reached yet. You collect pieces of the life you want — saved posts, half-plans, small objects that quietly mean 'someday' — and you'd trade comfort for wonder without blinking. People call it restless; you call it awake. The Eye notices the pattern: you fall for the horizon itself, and the leap toward it is the exact part you can never talk yourself out of.
Get your read — free on iPhoneWhat all that collecting is really reaching for.