A question I often ask myself, which sometimes frustrates me–who am I?
What do I want? What do I love? What can I do? What do I know?
What’s my favorite food, really? What’s my favorite pastime? What’s my biggest regret?
Who am I? I’ve been asking myself this since I learned to keep a journal and write stuff. It still frustrates me up to now.
Sometimes, I read astrology, personality quizzes and trendy blogs that tell me who I am or what kind of girl (or woman) I am. I chuckle because I feel that they’re right. They help me get to know myself. They help me sum up my characteristics into an organized essay. My person gets reduced into just a couple of paragraphs written–or rather dictated–by an anonymous third person.
Well, I am writing this now. I am hoping to write about myself better than other people. But it gets hard, too, you know?
Let me start by saying I am a frustrated writer. As I write, I ponder on how to deal with my obsessiveness, trying to make a long list of things that describe me. Because I can’t. It will always be jumbled up. Life is a chaos. And that’s what makes it interesting. I can be a lot of things, but I’m sure I’ll always find stuff that make me especially interesting.
I’ll keep writing.