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The following is a post I wrote about a year ago on my other blog. I just reread it tonight and found the truths of it still radiating, so I decided to repost it here. Enjoy.

Identity: (n)
the sense of self, providing sameness and continuity in personality over time

My best thoughts about life come in the latest of nights and the earliest of mornings. I'm sure that someone more famous must have said that before me, but just in case, I said it first.

I have been thinking a lot lately about myself and what I want to do and who I want to become and I realized that I enjoy being many different kinds of people. I like being happy, perky, and bright but then I do lavish my moody moments where I sulk and read emo poetry and listen to mello music. I don't feel particularily attached to either one of these personas but it's almost as if they were articles of clothing. I enjoy trying them on for size every once and awhile.
But then the question surfaces in the moments when the moody sulk and the perky bright don't quite do it: who am I really? What is my true, unbridled, untouched, uneverything personality?
You want to know what I come up with? Simple. I really don't know.

I guess I can start by saying that I want to be so many different kinds of people. I want to see the world. I want to be a mother. I want to be a wife. I want to be free. I want to be a heartbreaker. I want to be the one. I want to stay. I want to go. I want to be smart. I want to be successful. I want to be sophisticated. I want to be relaxed. I want to be unique.
All of these desires are important to me, but is it really possible for one person, one sole individual, to desire to be and do so many diverse things?
Most focus on one or two of the list above, ones that usually go hand in hand such as "sophisticated and successful" or "mother and wife." But for some reason, if I try to think about narrowing it down, I end up with all these empty, unfulfilled spots in my life; clothes I really would like to try on left on the shelf, some never to be touched. And that bothers me.

So can I really be all of those things? Could those things make up the most complicated human being on the planet: me? Or have I still not found myself yet. The elusive search continues for my identity. That seems too cliche to me. These days everybody is searching for themselves and it's morphed the whole idea of finding yourself into some shrink-induced process, which clearly isn't right.
But I believe that one thing that truly sets me apart is, while most other identity-searchers out there are desperate, restless, and impatient to find out who exactly is at their core inner being, I don't mind the wait. I don't need to know who I am today or tomorrow or the next day even because I believe that perhaps, along the way, I will stumble upon it. I mean why the rush? I may be on the lower end of the lifeline but I think that if you're out searching for your keys just to find your keys, you won't find them. But when you're going about your day you'll see them laying around on the counter or in the pocket you simply didn't think to check.

The things we search our whole lives for will turn up unexpectantly, or, to quote my wise mother, a watched pot never boils.

In corny conclusion, if you're a soul-searcher out there and need some guidance, take my advice: just stop looking, you're bound to turn up somewhere along the way.
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Complaints about Complaining
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I loathe listening to people complain.
Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a good whine every once and awhile, but constant complaining, the nagging incessant kind that ends up dragging your day down along with the complainer--that has to stop.
Because, really, what good are you doing yourself by complaining? Describing to people how my life sucks really does not make my life feel any better, in fact it merely emphasizes the point when the people nod in agreement instead of offering any ray of hope to pierce my dismal aura. A negative attitude only brings about negativity, and I have never been a fan of the negative thoughts.
Of course, though, whenever I get too fed up with the complaints and I mention to the person that they'll just have to "suck it up" to some extent, I receive in return a glare and a "you don't really know what I'm going through" speech, of which I also despise. Do I know in particular what you are going through? No. Have I been in worse situations than having a couple midterms in a week? Yes. Could things be worse? Yes, yes they could.
In fact, this is how I cope with my negativity, and I will offer it up as a tip.
Whenever I feel my chipper mood slipping, I take my pen and I draw a smiley face on one of my fingers. Sometimes it's just a simple smiley, other times I go a bit overboard and give him/her eyebrows, a nose, and even some freckles. In the end, the effect is the same. Sometime throughout the rest of your day, you will look at your hand, be reminded of the tiny insignificance of your two midterms in the big scheme of your life, and smile (I practically giggled once). Do this, and I swear it will yield results. Your money back guaranteed ;)
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