"I want to be..."
I've tried relentlessly for the past few hours to think of stunning, fascinating, and descriptive adjectives to follow those four little words.
I failed.
Many scribbled, barely coherent grandiose words buried under many straight and angry horizontal lines of black ink later, I settled for a medium sized upgrade consisting of 6 mere letters.
"I want to be myself."
(Ahhh, what a breath of fresh air, right? A dash of philosophy thrown into a pot of cynicism.)
It seems futile to go into a discussion about how lost I'm feeling because I've realized that I don't know who I am or who I'm going to be so I won't ever be able to be myself so I must go out into the world and explore and discover and then I'll be able to come up with precise adjectives that describe my entire being... Don't worry, I will spare you that rant.
I've come to the conclusion that I have little control over who I'm going to be. I can list as many adjectives as I want and I may never become any of them. I can't control what's going to happen and I can't control how I will evolve or describe who I will morph into.
Remembering learning the characteristics of living organisms?
I am a response to stimuli. Nothing more, nothing less. A continuous reaction responding to my environment.
N.B. I seem to only be able to write coherently late at night (morning) with the lights off and the whole house in silence. Isn't that weird?
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