Myself.

I have this constant fear of slipping out of my skin, this fear of not being able to contain my consciousness inside my body. Yet with this fear, I also have this great desperate need to do everything and anything, to be who I am.

I have this state of mind, when I am in my, most panicked state, to be the person who those next to me want me to be. I cannot be myself, no matter how much I try, no matter how much I work for it. I have to be someone else, I have to be what makes those around me want me to be. Being able to define who I am is very hard.

I am a man dancing off the walls of a building, I am a writer, a poet, an activist, a leader, a public speaker, a scientist. Yet, what happens when I am entirely on my own. With nothing but my deepest fears, and my inner most thoughts.

I am terrified, I am scared of myself, of who I am. Why?

Why?

Because I am absolutely and utterly insane, I see myself doing everything that I could possibly be doing at one single point in time. I see myself exploding, and imploding, I think of what the past, present and future should, might or could be. Thinking is a luxury, yet it is also my torture, my prison yet my freedom.

Why?

Because almost every single time I opened up my insanity to others, they are terrified of me. They are terrified of who or what I am or could be. They do not accept me, they reject the identity of what I could be.

This is why I became the person that you want me to be, I am your lover, I am your best friend, I am your follower, I am your leader, I am your enemy, I am a friend, I am drunk, I am a philosopher, I am what you need me to be.

Yet.

I found poetry, I found prose, I found writing.

When I write, people do not find it terrifying, they do not find it scary, they find me interesting, attractive, sometimes even inspiring, perhaps it is so. Yet, I still cannot even start to scratch the surface, of what I am.

I rarely praise myself, I rarely put myself up on a pedestal because, that is indeed going against all I am striving to be. Yet this one time I am allowing a luxury of doing this and being, 'myself'