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The Recognition of Self
Who am I?
I sit down.
Let's look at this rationally.
Maybe make a timeline of my life?
What have I done?
Am I even useful?
I look to the past.
That kid had dreams.
She knew who she was and where she was going.
She was fueled by her ambitions!
Look at me now.
I go through each day,
And I am grateful to be happy and content most of the time.
But how can I be so happy
While I am so cynical?
I still have dreams.
That part of me has not yet died.
But those dreams are fading.
I'm too indecisive.
I've lost myself.
And now they say it's time to buckle down:
Time to plan my future.
How can I plan the rest of my life
If I'm not even sure of who I am right now?
Have I become no one?
Caught between the person I was, and the person I became?
I miss the child of my past.
Why did i have to grow up?
That was a girl who was going somewhere.
But as I grew up, that girl died.
Or so I thought.
I caught a glimpse of her.
I am obsessed with the thought of being her again.
I gaze at the person I want to be.
The person of my past.
The thought looms in my mind.
But I'm buried,
Like the past years of my life were an avalanche.
How do I dig myself out in order to get what I want?
My feet feel glued to the ground.
Like I'm stuck in place
As the world around me continues to spin.
I reach for my dreams.
I graze the tip.
It looms just beyond my grasp.
I crumble in frustration.
Have I buried myself so deeply
That I cannot regain my standing?
Can I ever retain the personality that I so long?
I've already started trying.
I've already left my present self in a desperate attempt to be my past.
I feel like I'm stuck in the middle though.
I've been happier since I got back that part of myself.
If I gain the rest, will I be truly happy?
I look back and remember my life.
In the past, seeing me without a smile was like seeing a zebra without stripes.
Then around the time I changed,
The opposite became true.
I constantly wondered why I wasn't happy.
The realization hits me like a brick wall.
I know I left myself behind when I was busy growing up.
I became unhappy in the process.
I became a new person.
This new version of me, I'm finally content, happy even.
But not as I used to be.
So maybe there's a middle ground.
I need to find that balance.
I pick myself up,
Pull myself out of the rubble of that brick wall.
I dust myself off.
The little girl and the young woman meet.
They shake hands, each smile,
And I see myself as they morph into one.
I can be both people. I can be truly happy again.
Finally, life goes on.