My college has a new format for the first class of each course of each semester.
We have to write a two to three page essay introducing our self. The title is "Who am I?"
Boy - this one threw me. It's worse than an exam. I feel unprepared. I was so upset. I wrote and deleted so many times. If I had to hand-write it on paper, I would have been surrounded by crushed balls of useless pages that missed the overflowing garbage bin.
Such a simple question, and yet it has taken a week and still ... nothing. Try it yourself if you think it's easy.
Who the fuck am I? You're not the things you do each day. And if not, then what makes you who you are?!
I'm confused! Inconsistent! Indecisive!
In the end I think someone else should write this essay. Someone who spends a lot of time with me. You're only what you are to people. I can't see myself. And yet I'm afraid to ask the person closest to me. He has to lie! He's too sweet to tell me the truth -- unless he likes pain. So who? Who? No - not Mommy. I don't want to hear that story from when I was just born until now. And Dad is no good at hurting me either. Men will never tell me the truth if it's bad. And my siblings, forget it, they're carrying way too much rivalry.
There's only one thing to do ... I'm just going to make up a story. That's it. A story I can live with.
love me for who i am ... and then tell me who i was to you.
