I live not knowing myself but I suppose it's easier not knowing. After all to not know is much easier than changing what you dislike. It's almost too much to think about at times. As if my own mind can't stand the idea, the thought, the existence of words connecting in the darkest depths and corners of my mind, that may come to know what it is that makes me "who I am". That seems to be what everyone is looking for. Themselves. As if there is just a hidden place where all our true selves hide. No. I think we all just have too much to hate about what we are so we tell ourselves that there must be more. But not me. I will not waste away in search of hope that doesn't exist. I refuse that there is a me for me at all. No. I'm simply a passing faze. A season that will soon pass just like any other season. In my time I will bring warmth, I will bring cold and I will see life and death. I will last and last till I too pass. I do not live to find myself. I live to change the weather of lives that I come to pass through and maybe allow them to change me too.
