Bird As Fish

Shall I introduce myself? Shall I tell you who I am? Read my blog, and you will know more about me than anything I could ever tell you. To tell you the truth, I don't know who I am.

Who are you? I must know, before I can tell you about myself. How shall I change things, everything that is perfectly true to make up one complete picture, when really I am a collage of many different things. One thing may be true one day, and the opposite as equally true the next. I am quiet in my silence but boisterous in my glee. But I would consider myself neither a quiet person, nor a loud one. Maybe more silent then quiet, but here you are, reading the secrets of my life. Which I am telling you quite boldly.

I am insanely logical, strict, abrupt, in my artistic, creative, flowing way. I hate mess, but love clutter. I am passive-agressive.

To each his own - I am different to everybody. To Giraf, I am bold, flirtatious, I'll-woo-you-with-my-charm, I'll-draw-you-with-my-eyes. To Marie, I am serious, honest, laugh-lazily-sitting-back-in-your-chair-while-telling-stories-about-how-I-haven't-shaved-in-a-week. To Rusty, I am fun, exuberant, adventurous. To Mum, I smile, and keep quiet. To Naing, I smile, laugh and dance, and ask him serious womanly questions like "Does this make me look fat?". To each his own, and you all get a different look at me, while at the same time, thinking you see who I am. At the same time, I confuse myself, because I don't know who is real, and who is put on. I wish to obtain hegemony, and I am searching, searching, for who is really me. Like a train on a turntable, going round and round with many different choices, I just don't know which one is right. I cannot be flirtatious all the time, neither can I be serious, neither can I be bold, neither can I be fun. I would be exhausted. I cannot be anything all the time.

So here, I begin an exercise.

What I know about myself:
Let's start with the basics -
1. I am a member of the human race.
An admirable start.
2. I share a caucasian skin colour with many different people.
3. I am a woman (or a girl, depending on how old you are. A ten year old would say I was a woman, a sixty year old would say I was a girl).
4. My hair, for now is shortish and red. I mostly let it do it's own thing, so it curls in funny ways. Every now and then, I get it all cut off, and start again. I used to have long, long, long hair. It reached down to my bottom. It waved, and was a light brown colour, until I asked Marie to cut it all off. It was pretty ratty - I could never brush it all the way through unless I took half an hour to do so, and I never had that much time. Because of numerous lice treatments, it had taken on the texture of straw.
5. Colour of my eyes: They're not brown, and that's all I know in that regards, at least not very often.
6. My eyesight is terrible, but I wear contacts, because I hate glasses.
7. I have three brothers: Nadiel (the oldest - he is happy, self absorbed, crazy (like jumping in the baptizmal at church, just to go for a swim)), Naing (deep, hurt, emotional, moody, angry, loves to dance, practises handstands just for the fun of it, and is deadly skinny because he never eats), and JJ (head-in-the-clouds, manipulatory, funny guy, deadly skinny because he always forgets to eat, his nemisis: video games (they have a love-hate relationship)). And somewhere in the middle of that crazy mess is me: but I have no idea who I am.
8. For now, I work in a hotel. I don't really know if I tolerate the job, or if I hate it. I do know that I only enjoy the security of the job, I don't actually like it.
9. I am nineteen and one half years old, and have done nothing with my life. But I have been done to plenty, enough for the rest of my time here. Don't DO to me, I'll hate you.
10. In this quiet time of my life, I cement and put together everything else that happened during the turbulance, and hope to God that I never have to go through the rapids again.
11. I like very few things because of their own right, but I like them because other people like them, because of the memories associated with them. For example: if I have always been indifferent to a certain Picasso, and someone dear to my heart tells me why they like it, I find myself inevitably drawn to it, if only because that person does, because I like that person. I like to crochet because of the numerous times I'd sit with Marie, while crocheting, and we'd talk about deep things, and talk about boys. I like the song "I Will Survive" because of the one time that Naing and I were on the computer and found it accompanied by an alien dancing around, and eventually being squashed by the disco ball falling down on her head. But it was more about the fact that we had such fun. I don't understand how someone can make up their mind in a minute about whether they like something or not, or why you can't just tell someone that you really don't have an opinion on most things, without them being confused. Liking something is so temporary, so ephemeral, it doesn't last. If I like something, my opinion can be changed in a second, or in half an hour. How can you say then it is something that you like, if tomorrow, you might not like it? That is something I've never understood.
12. My butt is huge, by breasts are small, and my arm pits are terrible sights to behold, yet my love affair with tanktops (again, I like them because of that summertime - see previous post) will ensure that I continue to horrify the world.
13. My name intimidates me. It stands me out in the crowd, where I like to blend in.
14. I've got to go to work now, but I shall continue to write more - look for an #15 soon.

©2004 All Rights Reserved MJ Jackson
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