The story of me. What actually makes this specific story so interesting is that it really isn’t about me at all, but rather about others. Others are what make you who you are. Others have made me who I am. Without them I wouldn’t exist. I wouldn’t even matter. So, this is the story of me and of all those people that have made me who I am and who I want to be.
I guess the obvious question then would be…who am I? So trivial, so intense, almost desperate. I have thought about this and I have over thought this. Who am I? It seems like such a cheesy, simple question but we all wonder. We all question our existence and our purpose. Some more than others. Some search all of their lives for an answer to this question. Some, unfortunately just give up. Just accept that they are who they are. They accept that they are who they were meant to be…who they were supposed to be.
It really doesn’t matter when it comes right down to it. Many of us fight it every step of the way only to realize that we are who we were meant to be all along. Almost like a character in George Orwell’s 1984. We can try to discover our true selves and to reinvent who we are and who we were meant to me but it is usually a futile attempt met with failure, followed by a raw and violent reality that we can never escape from. We are our parent’s children. For better or worse…till death do us apart.