Reinvention. Recreation. Reformation. Reclamation.
Everyday, I wake up and I wonder how I can trick everyone. I've never once claimed to be anything or anyone. I've never once claimed to be a part of something bigger than myself. I strive for suffering, I live for humiliation and defeat and I smile through it. Sift through, what some refer to as, "The Wreckage" to find pieces of myself that matter. The shards of glass that reflect myself for what I seem to be. I may never know what I am. I never will know what I am, exactly.
I have an idea of who I am, a young man with a handful of convictions and dreams. Some morals, decency, composure. But mostly, as with any human, flaws. Fault lines, fractures, fissures, fresh wounds only years old. I am not old, I can not see myself as a wise man. I am, for the most part, a stumbling five year old on stilts wading through a river of murky water. Unknowing of the obstacles below and the current between us.
It's a long way down. I've been there before. I may not be wise, but I am not an idiot.
I am in constant shift, metamorphosis, and free fall. I want to keep everyone guessing. I want you to think that I am you. I want you to judge me. Pick my bones clean. Because at the end of the day, I know for a fact that you don't shed a second thought to it. You see me as a reflection of yourself. You don't see another human in front of you. Some of you get lost in an others eyes, because you can't understand what lies behind, so you stare at your reflection. Some of you don't look into other's eyes, because you don't want to see yourself in them.
Every person you converse with is just someone to compare yourself to. A reflection of some part of you that you enjoy seeing from time to time.
Then again, what do I know? It makes sense in my mind, or at least it's an excuse I give to people.
If anyone ever wants to get to know me, the best way they can start is by not talking.
Sometimes, I talk a lot. I get anxious and antsy, spitting up the first bit of useless brain-matter-lacking phrases before someone else, just so they can think that what they say matters. Give them a morality boost. Give them a chance to bite my throat with an intellectual conversation and test my mind. And from what I've gathered through the years, it's one of three responses: An unsure person with a couple quick glances of uncomfortable eyes, staying quiet. Or, someone whom is used to such idiocy and goes right along with it. And lastly, my favorite, the people whom raise the lip, push up their mental glasses, and give me the best IQ wallop that they can possibly muster.
But, my reasoning is simple. From these responses I gather personality, from personality I gather mentality, and from mentality I gather everything else.
I don't know what I Am, but I can tell you what my persona is. A blithering moron.
I am an uncomfortable person. And this is why often, I strive for irony. In clothing, in words, in actions, nearly everything. But in the same sense, this can mean that I am also very comfortable with who I am. To the point that I can do things differently and I'm still the exact same person.
I find it fun and entertaining. Reinventing myself, sometimes daily. How I appear, how I act, mannerisms. It's all completely worthless.
Everything you see, hear, and might even enjoy. Is completely worthless.
In my mind, if it were my choice, I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't have to write this. I wouldn't be heard from. You would not even know my name. I would be what I aspire to be.
A ghost, in the corner, staring a hole through you. A fly, watching and waiting for my chance to involve myself in your life as a nuisance. A tree in the forest, living, hopeful to see a wandering soul pass by with deeper thoughts.
An entity, and that is it.
I am not pretentious. I am simple and I am stuck in my mind. And besides, maybe this is all just a joke.
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