Short Stories/Song Lyrics

168 - Recipe For Me

There are shouters, murmurers, loan sharks, and burglars. Who's good or bad? Who's to say? Some are lost, some are searchers, some are givers, and some are earners. Why did they all end up that way? Is it nature at play or is it nurture? Is the teacher to blame or is the learner? I'm all at sea. I'm no authority on anything but me. I couldn't tell you why I am who I've become, but I can tell you the parts that make me up and you can calculate the sum. I'll impart to you what I believe would be the recipe for me.
     Water. First things first, you'd need a great deal of water to make me. Sixty liters is roughly what you need. It accounts for sixty-five percent of my being. Cells. My body's composed of trillions and trillions of cells performing an assortment of missions. It's important to mention that they house my DNA which makes me myself. There's an ebb and a flow. I grow, then I see changes. There are rewrites, losses, gains, and rearrangements. It's all much more uncertain than I thought it would be. Who knew there'd be so many ways to be me?
     Stories. Audience or presenter, add scores of stories over a time, like a slew of silly videos I shared online and journals full of narratives I wrote at age nine. Still, I continue to write because I have more dreams to fulfill. I had tales I hoped to tell when I was younger. I have ideas that I haven't made yet, but I will. I'll find my way with my will. There's an ebb and a flow. I grow, then I make changes. There are rewrites, losses, gains, and rearrangements. I'm so much more uncertain than I thought I would be. Who knew there'd be so many ways to be me?
     Eggs. You may laugh, and that's great. Your smiles are what make my day. My self-worth's fragile like an egg. When it breaks it's tough to put together again. Salt. A pinch of salt in my wounds when my friends have had enough of me. It doesn't help that I'm lacking subtlety when I drop hints that I crave their company. Alone, it's hard to console myself when I feel so alone. I feel like I disappear if I don't shout "I'm here" and if I don't make my presence known. If people see me here and find my face unclear, can I help them to see me better? I know I can't foresee the weather. Will they accept me now or ever? Who knows? I hope so. I'm good enough. Whatever I face, I can rest assured that better days await! The path to happiness isn't a race. I'll let my heart beat at its own pace.
     Sunshine. Happy and bright, it nurtures the earth with its light. Its beaming smile helps buds to flower. I'll take a dash of that for when friends feel sour. Rainbows. A light shines through and every hue is on display. I'll save a pinch of that for a rainy day and use it when the storm clouds go away. There's an ebb and a flow. I grow, so I make changes. There are rewrites, losses, gains, and rearrangements. I'm so much more uncertain than I thought I would be, but I can see there's no wrong way to be me. I know putting this recipe to paper is unwise. All of the ingredients are changing all the time

I'm changing all the time.

//word count: 598 words.