Who am I?
I’m not entirely sure.
Some days I feel so grounded; like my existence matters. Other days I feel like I’m invisible; like I don’t exist. I walk on the sidewalk and it almost feels like people are walking right through me. I tend to act impulsively, and sometimes I end up hurting the ones around me. I don’t know how to care about people close to me. Sometimes I can’t understand why I do the things I do. I just do them regardless of the consequences or how they would be perceived. I can be bad, and I can be good. I’m human and inhuman.
Most people might think that I’m weird; that what I do and the choices that I make make me abnormal, someone they’d rather stay away from. Yet, I seem to draw people to me without even trying. It’s like there’s something about me that they feel drawn to. They want to be around me, and when I don’t live up their expectations or the vision they’ve created of me, they’re disappointed. Thing is: I never made a promise to anyone. I never said I was good. I never said I was bad. I’m just me.
We all want answers to how our brains function, to why we do the things that we do. Life would be simple and less complicated like that. But that’s not reality. Reality is mysterious. Life, to me, isn’t clear to anyone. What is it to be human? What is our responsibility? What is our purpose in life?
There isn’t a definitive answer to that.
Who am I?
I have yet to find out.