Me, my lies, and I
Who am I? — Of course, trivially I am I. But who says so? Who is I and who is I not? Can I trust this I?
Who am I? Who is me?
Am I the sum of my history, or am I more than the sum of it? Or less? I keep forgetting. Nature or nurture? Are my hopes and wishes part of me?
What about the collection of aches and pains that consume my body? How old am I? Old enough to kick my father’s butt? Am I ready to accept my rheumatic disorders? Or more? Where do I draw the line? On my birthday? When I die? Does death end my life, and me?
What have we forgotten about ourselves? There is this and that which I am proud of, what I believe in, and those I love. And there is everything else. I am the one to decide. So, it depends. I depend on me?
People keep asking: Who are you? — I’d like to answer honestly: I do not know. And I do, because there again is this I. I says about I that I does not know.
Maybe this is why trivial is not derived from a broad way but from three ways crossing at one point: The I that is me, the I that says I, and all that is not I.
Who said that?
April 12th, 2006 at 18:37
If I were you, I wouldn’t trust this I.
April 14th, 2006 at 13:01
Me too ;-)
May 18th, 2006 at 20:53
I’d really be scared off myself if I were actually me.
September 3rd, 2006 at 11:06
When I am asked who I am one of my favorite answers still is: I lie.
May 14th, 2007 at 2:37
I know who you are. You’re the author of one of my favorite blogs and the other side of my own little mobius strip.
Paradoxes only!
May 14th, 2007 at 20:37
Today I feel like lucky me is a sum of influences of people I will come to know — apparently, including myself.
So much for the paradox — a profound measure of truth, indeed; the truth of me on my way to come to know you.
Thank you, Siona!