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Who am I? No really, who am I? Don't you ever wonder who the hell you are?

Sure there are a lot of things I know about myself. But even then... I still wonder.

Who am I?

A man. Okay, there's a start. Now what? I've got a brain... supposed to a useful tool but sometimes it can be a real pain... to much thinking going on. Analysis paralysis?

Who am I?

A creative being. Made in the image of God. God is a creator. Cool. I like that. But then I look at what I've created in my life. It's a mess.

Who am I?

A spiritual being. Whoa... I agree, of course, but I still don't quite know the mystery surrounding this one. Who am I as a spiritual being? What does a spiritual being do? How do they act? How is a spiritual being different than a man or a creative being? And where is God in the midst of all this? Am I losing my identity in all of this?

Who am I?

Emotions. Now there's an understatement. Emotions running rampant. So rampant that there have been times when smoking a spliff has brought on a release from the torrential downpour of emotional hurricanes. Passion, love, hate, anger, frustration, sadness, confusion, chaos... there's a question.

Is chaos the beginning of creativity or is creativity in chaos?

Who am I?

Lost. Living in a world full of people experiencing their lives from individual perspectives. So many simultaneous worlds exist in each of these minds. There emotions dictating what they think and perceive. Do they feel lost too?

Who am I?

Need. What is need? Is it wrong to need? I've heard that it is... Notice how we tend to run away from neediness? I don't want to need. I want to be self-sufficient. I'm not. I need. I need people in my life. Friends, lovers, mentors, collaborators, guides, teachers, but mostly, I just need company.

Who am I?

A mirror. This happens too often to me. Hurting children and adults come to me easily. The warm invitation eminates from my very being without me even being aware of it. I acknowledge them. I feel their suffering, their pain. I share in it. I see it. I see the value in them as another human being. They are my brothers and sisters.

Who am I?

Brother to a dead sister. She's gone. Twenty years now. Suicide. Sad. Lost. Wow. I can't understand. I do understand. I don't understand. Who would she be today? Why? Always the question; why?

Who am I?

A son. A mother and a father. They're out there. Living their dysfunctional lives. Trying their best to love in their selfish way. So much expectation to live up to. When do I matter?

Who am I?

I can't think anymore. I don't want to feel pain anymore. I don't want to be alone anymore. I want to feel peace. I want to feel love. I want to feel accepted. Doesn't everyone?

Who am I?

I look in the mirror. I see a shell. I look into my eyes. I see a light. Deep down inside. There is softness. Warmth. Love. Shelter. Compassion. Empathy. I still don't seem to fit in though. Too soft. Too gentle. Too passionate. Too angry. Too intense. Frightens people.

Who am I?