It’s strange how I know so little about myself. I do not refer to the petty bits like what my favorite color is and which kind of books I love the most. A long seventeen years is apparently not enough to figure myself out. Mostly because I contradict myself when faced with such questions. A consistent love towards my comfort zone at war with the urge to step out of it. A love for stability paired with the need for thrill and the unpredictable. Confidence juxtaposed with a crippling need for validation. Narcissistic yet unsure of my worth. Too sensitive, too cold-hearted. Too social, too aloof. Kind and vindictive. I’m at war with myself most of the time, trying to tick just one of the boxes for each question I’m faced with. I do not know if everyone has multiple facets of themselves and if it’s natural to be such a confused mess all the time.
But I know for sure that like most questions which have no answer, this too, disturbs me. So my urge to find reason in my paradoxes has led me to find a probable answer. Maybe it is in fact us ourselves who switch between our facets. We are nothing but puppets in the hands of time. I think when  life goes according to our deliberate and planned way, we remain assured of our abilities and that is when the adventurous and exuberant side of us is manifested. When our plans are derailed and we find ourselves crippled in the hands of unprecedented circumstances, the monsters in us wake up and cripple us further. We retract into our shells when faced with situations we are unsure or scared to fight.
Now that I sketchily answered my own question, I find myself facing another one.
Does the existence of multiple sides of our being threaten the authenticity of either of them?
I’m an optimist (to the point of wishful thinking sometimes), so I choose to believe it doesn’t. Each side of us is as raw and real as the other. The person that we are when life favors us is every bit real when it doesn’t. Of course, the personas I am speaking are the ones that truly exist to ourselves, not what we show we to the world. That’s a conversation for another time.
Till next time.


Old endings and new beginnings

This is the consequence of a boring winter evening, when I found myself ruminating on ways I can productively use my time. I have always been an opinionated person, with a strong urge to express them. I used to call myself a writer, but now I don’t, because I don’t particularly believe I’m qualified enough to be called one yet. I love short stories, but I suck at writing them, so I stick mainly to poetry. Not that I am too good at that either, but well, I try.
Creation has always fascinated me. To see something borne out of nothingness enthralls me. My love for words, penchant for creation and my irrepressible need for catharsis is what led me to writing a blog. I hope you enjoy the ride.