Who R U?

Who are you?
It’s easy to say: I’m me, but what does that mean really? I believe we are a combination of all the mass of crap that has happened in our pitiful lives. Pardon my lovely description but as always I base my know-it-all description in my life.
For example, I often recent my mother and father for not being there when I needed them in the most important moments of my life or for giving a shit about what I needed them to, but then if they had I wouldn’t be the person I am today…I mean how drastically would it had changed my personality, my very life if they had?
The problem with this kind of questions is: If indeed my life had been very different from what I am now…would I be OK with it? Alright, alright, I constantly complain about how my life has turned out but hey…shit happens. If my life had turned out in any other different way I miht have hate just as much or even more. We can always be worse, trust me on that. Don’t believe me turn on the news once in a wile there will always be somebody more fucked up than us somewhere ion the world.
The fact is that somehow the neglect and the bullshit that happened to me made…me. If it had happened some other way I wouldn’t be me. I would be me but another version of me. Not my same mind in the same body if I’m as unlucky as I was in this scenario.
It’s true. I do hate so many facts of my life right now. I hate the fact that I’m unhappily married, but I do not choose to be a single mother paying absolutely everything in a house and paying my way and my child’s half-eating and shit, so I put upo with unjustified screams and insults; feeling alone and not being able to sleep cause it’s just gets so damn lonely.

My life sucks. Who’s life is perfect? Hollywood’s? They keep dropping dead from OD’s. I don’t call that perfect. They keep knocking them into the Loony bin. Personally, I’m half-way there as it is. We all got our good points and our low. Even perfect little families have to pray for some uncle who went the wrong way and they just won’t mention at Christmas time, poor shame. You know it’s true, don’t deny it, suck it up.
Again, we take some choices in our live and others are taken for us which make us being ourselves. How can we tell which are the correct ones and which incorrect? Nobody can really tell. Boy, that sucks huh? All we can really do is flip the coin.
We talk to people we trust about which could be the right move, again with the parents most times, but then again come in handy if you got any good ones, being the ones that recognize you without a drop of alcohol in then and in plain daylight; or God even, inserting your favorite Deity name in the space blank right now in your mind, meaning praying and feeling closer to your faith.
I guess there really is no right move. We choose what we wanna be most times. Sometimes we are posed with a moral dilemma and we deliberately take that wrong turn pretending we don’t know it’s the wrong choice, but we do. I can’t truly define myself in a religion I guess, but I do believe that if your heart’s in the right place you should be alright in the long run, and if you keep doing the wrong thing and keep looking the other way…well, let’s just say that the surprised face will not fool anybody not even yourself. Think for a second…are you really ready for what’s coming to ya? It might not be a long time before you have to settle the score. We just don’t know…no way to tell.
Sometimes, we wait too long to find out who we are and our books are closed shut with a snap. Don’t wait for other people to tell you who you are because they can’t. All they can tell you is what’s on the surface and that’s just a face, is that all you are? No, but you have to let people know, you have to let yourself know that. It’s important that you do.
I lived more than my life being, breathing, and thinking what they told me. That was me according to me, boy did I hit the ground hard when I realized who I was when I was let go; when I started thinking for myself. It was like: Why the hell am I doing this if I hate it? I don’t believe in this!!

At some point we have to meet ourselves. It sounds strange but yeah we do…we have to take two steps back and see how the job was done (our parents I mean) cause like I said at any given time it’s just out of their hands. And we have to…sort of like clean up our room, you know? When you clean it for yourself the very first time and you find crap that you didn’t even remember you had or even know existed anymore…sort of like that. You rearrange your brain. Get you know you. Introduce yourself to you.
Hello, I want you to meet: Me.