Who Am I?

Write about me? There is not much to tell. I am no one. I relate myself to Emily Dickinson’s narrator. “I’m Nobody! Who are you?” Don’t misunderstand. Living as a nobody, a person who has failed at life, is not a cop out. It’s the truth. A truth which can not remain unseen or unheard. It’s on you like a giraffe wears his spots or an armadillo wears their armor. Only my armor is not always protective.

Still, I am going to wander out of my true surroundings to find another self. This does not mean I won’t have to hide again at my old home place. I can only speak for today, this moment as far as my identity is concerned. So, my quest, my purpose is about finding a me to hold on to a me who has succeeded at one or two things in this life. Is that vanity? Is that pride?

Perhaps, I don’t care. For once, it is truth. Pilate asked ” what is truth?” Such a silly question to ask. He knew the answer to his question. He just did not want to look at truth. He was tracking an innocent man. With his clever answer, he was trying to hide shame and guilt. I can understand. Shame and guilt are brutal enemies. So harsh, I will pretend not to know the meanings of these words. I will pretend not to have experienced this and that.







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