I thought I knew myself

It’s like I have this old Chinese theater projector in my head, playing reruns of classics that only the owner watches. My theory, so far, is that I end up reminiscing, trying to find myself.

I don’t think I know me at all. Well, sure, I know I like to eat food all the time, watch silly foreign films and read funny books. But, is that all there is to it? Of course not. I don’t think I really know what makes me happy and what makes me cry. I am not on a perpetual pre menstrual mood swing drive, but it sure as hell feels that way when feelings change for no apparent reason sometimes. Even when everything and everyone around me is feeling one thing and all instances demand the same feeling from me, I couldn’t be far from it.

Half the time, I feel like I am an outsider watching myself and forcing the whole third person subjection upon myself. And sometimes, it’s like I’m waiting for my life to start, even though I’m living it. All of this, for no apparent reason but for the sake of it. I guess I could choose to stop it whenever I please and yet I don’t. Does it matter if I don’t know what makes me tick? I’d be lying if I said it didn’t. Guess introspection is required in moderation, if that’s at all possible. After all a prognosis is impossible without analysis.

'Twas more than I could take, pity for pity's sake
Some nights kept me awake, I thought that I was stronger
When you gonna realise, that you don't even have to try any longer?
Do what you want to.

Maybe sometimes, we've got it wrong, but it's alright
The more things seem to change, the more they stay the same
Oh, don't you hesitate.

You're gonna find yourself somewhere, somehow.