"Who Am I?"

I am a person who can’t shit a 3 page paper about myself out in one day. Do not ask me to do that. I am in college. I don’t know who I am. I know what I want and that I would rather be some place other than Missouri. I don’t like messes and I stress out about things that I put off until the last second.

I do not know who I am. I like food and having time to think about what I might write about; the Mona Lisa wasn't planned and painted in a day. At least I don’t think so.

I do not know where my future is headed. I just want to wake up to a palm tree and the last time I checked, that isn't here.

I love complaining about things that aren't even an issue and things I put upon myself.

I don’t know who I am right now other than I am a student.

Don’t ask me to write about myself because I am biased in my opinion of myself.

It’s like writing a resume. You sprinkle glitter on all of your shit and present it like you just won the Nobel Prize.

I am no gem but you ain't so great either.

I am a Queen, but we are all royalty.

I don’t even think I have 750 words in my vocabulary.

What am I even talking about at this point?

I still have two pages to go.

Time for fluff

and

lots

of

new

lines.

I like to waste time.

I waste time by wasting time.

Time is irrelevant.

I can’t believe I’m actually going to turn this in for my final grade.

I don’t know what else to talk about.

I live at home, that’s who I am. I don’t go out much and then complain about not going out.

I am a published author, that’s something I guess.

I have a big ego but doubt myself constantly.

I’m still avoiding writing a paper about myself.

But.

If you actually look at it, this paper is who I am.

“Write about yourself.”

Okay.

I’ll write about myself by not writing about myself because I wouldn’t write about myself but I guess I’m contradicting myself by writing about myself by not writing about myself.

Because I’m actually writing about myself.

Try to understand my logic because to me, I am making a lot of sense.

I promise.

“Who am I” is a very broad question. I am different to each person I meet. Some people think I am a great person, and others would rather me fall in a hole and never find a way out.

That’s fine.

That sounds like a personal problem.

If I fell into a hole, just drop my laptop down to me, I’ll be fine.

The world is violent and unfair. A hole is safe and fair because I am the only one in it.

“Who am I?”

I don’t know.

You tell me.