[MD] Who am I?

[MarshaV]

a pronoun?


A beautiful pronoun!    I love it when you share 
with us.  You are magnificent.






At 02:27 AM 2/28/2009, you wrote:





>Hello everyone
>
>I don't know who I am. You'd think after all 
>this time thinking about it and ruminating over 
>it that I'd know but I don't. There are times 
>where I've caught a glimmer but as soon as I try 
>and grasp the clue, poof, it's gone like a puff 
>of smoke, wafting through my clenched fingers and beyond my dreams.
>
>"It's like a hall of mirrors at a carnival where 
>some mirrors distort you one way and some 
>distort you another...Each person you come to is 
>a different mirror. And since you're just 
>another person like them maybe you're just 
>another mirror too, and there's no way of ever 
>knowing whether your own view of yourself is 
>just another distortion. Maybe all you ever see 
>is reflections. Maybe mirrors are all you ever get..." [LILA]
>
>
>I like taking pictures of myself in front of 
>mirrors. I'll arrange one close by another and 
>try to catch a glimpse of infinity but no matter 
>how I twist and turn it is always just there, 
>outside my view. My cats come and watch the 
>play. They're as mystified by it all as I am but 
>they seem to get over it more quickly.
>
>"But what controls all these mirrors is the 
>culture: The Giant, the gods; and if you run 
>afoul of the culture it will start throwing up 
>reflections that try and destroy you, or it will 
>withdraw the mirrors and try and destroy you 
>that way... The mirrors take over your life and 
>soon you don't know who you are..." [LILA]
>
>I fall into silence for hours, then days, and 
>then weeks to months at a time. I speak when 
>spoken to, you know, to maintain appearances, to 
>make a semblance of a living, but otherwise 
>there are no words to be found breaking the 
>silence. I live alone. I prefer it that way 
>though at times the loneliness tends to press on me more than at other times.
>
>I speak through my writing though that too seems 
>to dry up occasionally. The words are there but 
>the meaning isn't. No matter how I struggle 
>against it, the silence has me in its infernal 
>grip and refuses my freedom lest I embrace it 
>fully. Someone knocks at the door; I don't answer. The phone rings; I let it.
>
>"Sometimes you could see little fragments of 
>reflections of what was wrong but they were just 
>fragments and you couldn't put them together... 
>Everyone seemed to be guided by an 'objective,' 
>'scientific' view of life that told each person 
>that his essential self is his evolved material 
>body... Each individual in his cell of isolation 
>was told no matter how hard he tried, no matter 
>how hard he worked, his whole life is that of an 
>animal that lives and dies like any other 
>animal... Scientifically speaking he has no goals." [LILA]
>
>I see others scurrying here and there, going 
>about their lives as if they have goals... and I 
>am envious. I want to be going somewhere, as if 
>I too were doing something important. But I am 
>what I am. I go for long lazy walks during the 
>day when others are working at their jobs. I see 
>them drive past me on the road in their dump 
>trucks and telephone vans. Sometimes they wave and sometimes I wave back.
>
>I like the sunshine more than clouds but I like 
>my freedom best of all. Four walls close me in 
>even if they have windows to look out. When I 
>was young I had a job working in an old building 
>all day long. When I could I would sneak off and 
>peer out the dirty windows at the brightly 
>optimistic day and it would take all my 
>willpower not to quit at that very instant and 
>make my escape... When I grew older, I finally did.
>
>"They just hate it when people make love. And 
>then they'll go to a fist fight where someone's 
>really hurt and all covered with blood and 
>they'll just love it. Or a war and stuff like 
>that. They're all mixed up and they're trying to 
>take it out on you so you'll get mixed up too. 
>They want to mix you up just like they are and 
>then you'll be all mixed up too and then they'll like you..." [LILA]
>
>I remember when I had a real job that I felt 
>like I was part of something. There was a 
>camaraderie between me and my fellow workers 
>born of having gone through trials and 
>tribulations together. Sometimes I miss that, 
>the feeling of being part of something bigger 
>than I am. But then I realize it was all 
>predicated on a lie, and they lied despite 
>themselves. I can't hate them for lying to themselves, can I?
>
>"...What did he remember? It all seemed so long 
>ago. Aunt Ellen. When he was seven. There was a 
>noise in the downstairs in the dark. His parents 
>thought it was a burglar, but it was Ellen. Her 
>eyes were wide. Some man was chasing her, she 
>said. He was trying to hypnotize her and do 
>things to her. Later, at the asylum, Phaedrus 
>remembered her pleading, 'I'm all right! They're 
>just keeping me here when I know I'm all right.' 
>Afterward, his mother and sisters had cried as 
>they left. But they didn't see what he saw. He 
>never forgot what he saw, that Ellen wasn't 
>frightened of the insanity. She was frightened of them." [LILA]
>
>I find myself apart from the world though I 
>desire more than anything to belong. I am human, 
>I howl at the rising of the moon. I see the 
>neighbor's window shades flutter at the noise 
>though they never speak it aloud. They no doubt 
>know it's only their neighbor, drunk again on 
>loneliness and despair, bleating out his heart 
>to an uncaring goddess hovering high and ghostly white overhead.
>
>"Maybe if, during the show, the whole theater 
>collapsed and the audience found themselves 
>among the stars with just space all around and 
>no support, wondering what a stupid thing this 
>is, sitting here among the stars watching this 
>film that has nothing to do with them and then 
>suddenly realizing that this film is the only 
>reality there is and that they had better get 
>interested in it because what they see and what 
>they are is the same thing and once it stops they will stop too..." [LILA]
>
>My eyes grow dim in the fading light of sanity. 
>I flounder about, flailing at shadows, greedy 
>for company. I smile hello to everyone I see. 
>It's too cold and noisy though; I retreat to my 
>own private paradise. I take care not to look 
>into the mirror lest I see the true hell of my 
>own making. So I don't know who I am.
>_________________________________________________________________
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Shoot for the moon.  Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars.........
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