Who Am I

I am a craft show-style artist who will spend hours figuring out the mechanics of a pop-up greeting card. I will read my favorite books more than once, yet I have been known to leave conversations unfinished.

Lonely, content, hollow, full. The picky eater who's last to leave the table. I believe a lie will come back to haunt you, but the truth can haunt you too.

I scream with Linkin Park in the car and commiserate with Michele Branch. I am the guy on the corner in the pouring rain. My whole life can be summed up in the lyrics of a song, but the tune keeps changing. I'm Chasing Cars, Over My Head, Faint, Somewhere I Belong, and Sleep To Dream.

I scale walls, walk for miles, and spend days inside my home traveling the globe. I don't watch TV but like to buy TV shows on DVD- Buffy and Angel, Lorelai and Rory, Rube and Georgia. I'm not a player. I'm an observer who can't sit still to watch.

I stay up too late. I sleep too long, and I overthink. I have high hopes but faint aspirations. I am more comfortable meeting people from the inside out but appreciate the outside in. My life is chronicled for the world to read, but I am still very private. I can sit in silence, but I say too much.

I have grandiose decorative ideas that dwarf the Valley of the Kings. My unfinished works rival the Canterbury Tales. I don't let my age define me. I shop in the teen section because their clothes are cooler, and I wear my heart on my sleeve.

I surround myself with female friends but somehow find myself without a female. I'm a good listener, a sarcastic observer, and a reliable shoulder. I see what I want to see; I think outside the box and find myself alone in the crowd.

Clueless, confident, immature, adult. The sloppy drunk, the designated driver. I've touched people I've never seen and held dear people I've never touched. More people know me by my selected name. I'm classic, current, and often ahead of my time.

And I still wonder what there is to see in me.

*inspired by Sympho's Hugh Gallagher post.