Ramblings... because I can't seem to compose anything structured

Who the hell are you anyways??
I mean, I know it’s nighttime, and therefore you are tending toward negative depressing feelings anyways, but I’m still wondering. Ok, I’m talking to myself in case anyone missed it. Nighttime is the worst when you start to feel disillusioned with your whole existence, because you reach new, greater heights of disillusionment in the dark hours.
But back to my original point, sometimes I become fed up with my lack of self. Which can seem strange because most of the time I feel I have an abundant self. I go back and forth with it. I can’t really decide if I really feel what I feel, or if I’m all for show. Sometimes I feel like I keep going on just for other people, like they are these hooks that pull me along the stream. Like I am playing this part that other people know me as, and now I have to keep it up. I have to fit into my part. But what is this part exactly, that’s what I am trying to figure out I guess. Am I sparkly, happy-go-lucky, positive energy incarnate? Am I erratic, emotional, self-involved whirlwind of unstable chaos? Am I completely generic, like vanilla, someone who says what others want to hear, and meanders along, never risking a step off the safe path, never daring to dare anything? Am I someone who feels attuned to the universe, something bigger than myself, confident in my path, and taking my time in getting where I am going?
What is really important to me?
That seems like a generic question, but have you ever asked yourself that question and made yourself consider the answer? I just did a couple minutes ago, and I found myself at a loss for anything really concrete.
I mean, you can say the easy answer: my family and friends. But that’s almost a given you know? What if that answer is just implied, and you have to move on from that answer? That’s where you kinda just stand there in puzzlement, like yeaaaah… hmmm…. What is really important to me? It made me feel kinda terrible that I didn’t have an instinctive response. My cats? My books? Music? Writing? What???
I mean, it definitely highlights the lacking part of my life, which is some kind of vocation…career..lifepath… call it what you will. If I had a vocation, that would be really important to me, I presume. But I don’t, and therein lies the problem, the glitch, the “who the hell are you??” moment. What would I live and die for?? Maybe that’s a bit dramatic, but what I am getting at is the concept of passion. I feel like month after month, my inside becomes more and more hollowed out, and I am slowly losing things that I wont be able to find again and that scares the hell out o f me. I become hollow and spiritless and generic because I do not do things that I am passionate about on a day to day basis. Read: ever. I went to South America by myself, I was passionate about that. I was passionate about learning Spanish and learning about the people there, and wanting to become a part of them for awhile, and wanting to stay, which didn't work, and that saddened me. On the outside I was still nothing but a tourist, even if on the inside I was seeing things as they were, not as tourist attractions. I wasn’t looking at the people as some sideshow to entertain me, I wasn’t looking at the landscape thinking “how quaint.” I wasn’t sleeping in hostels complaining about the lack of hot water, or lack of television, or lack of anything, for that matter, because I wasn’t looking at the places or people as if they were lacking…
I have to go get in bed with my boyfriend, to be cont…