i never seem to get used to being asked something as simple as "who are you?" i often fumble, nervously giggle, awkwardly attempt to evade the naked truth with something witty and irrelevant. because in actual fact that question is as complex as my internal organs. and honestly it frightens me because i know deep inside i can't genuinely answer that question. being asked "who do you think you are?" is even worse. i might as well be asked why God exists or why boys love the chase and fuck the loving up or why people have to die? i mean who am i to say, does my opinion even constitute or contribute to anything vaguely meaningful? but then again apart from our Creator, i guess i'm the closest human being to knowing who i am the most.
i'll be honest (and not with feigned modesty), talking about who i am is kind of difficult. maybe i'm not the only one here, or maybe i am. i mean i feel awkward already as i type and think about what subject i am about to delve into. perhaps it's the fact that you're sharing/remembering/discovering/rediscovering fragments of your being that you never thought existed. or that you secretly wish didn't exist. we all have that la lumière (light) and obscurité (dark) side to ourselves. we're essentially all walking contradictions and live paradoxes (blame it on human nature). but i guess no matter how aware we are of our weaknesses and strengths, flaws and features and everything in between, the fact that we only know to a certain extent scares us shitless; as if one day we'll wake up, look in the mirror and wholeheartedly not know whose grimace we're starring back at.
from what i do know about myself there are alot of things i appreciate and would rather exchange limbs for about who i am. for one i'm not altogether. i'm not perfect or even good. i try to be a daughter one who desires to make her parents proud. i try to be a good student and finish my degree and get a good job that will sustain my lifestyle and bring comfort to my parents and family in the long run. i have innumerable dreams, big ambitions and goals. i want to travel so badly. i love to sing and write and watch movies all day long. i have a weakness for handsome europeans, skim mochas, cigarettes, books that i can highlight "epitomic" lines and sushi. i love tea and jelly beans and monochrome outfits and clogs and ink and beautiful paintings and instagraming everything. but i guess all this is surface stuff. things that people already know, regardless if they know me very well or from the constraints of a friendly conversation or mere observation.
but i guess there are other things, like the way i struggle to be happy with my body or the way i wish i was a better Christian. the doubt i have for ever finding someone who i will truly spend the rest of my life with and the feeling that i'm so unworthy if that person ever crosses my path. then there's the fear that i'll never fulfill my dreams and goals and ambitions and live a life reflecting the hard work i put in or one that will make my parents proud. i sometimes have morbid dreams about my death or feel depressed about things in sporadic bouts. then the haunt of past mistakes and decisions. the unnerving questions of why can't i let go? and why should i? and that gut wrenching feeling if this is all meaningless....
i'm obviously not altogether. but i guess this is life. and the answer isn't always for us and this is why journeys exist. but to be optimistic, for every obscurité is la lumière and somehow, no matter how fucked up our decisions are or how life can be we still have freewill and we still have reasons to smile and be thankful. the very fact that we were brought into this planet was no accident and the very reason why i have things to appreciate about life is sometimes just enough to get me by. until i finally crack the code (maybe one day, maybe never) i'll leave the big questions as they are and the self-discovery as they come,
love,
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