I was sitting alone at a café and I was arguing with my friends online. Their words stroke me like a giant meteor and I was the dinosaurs, maybe their intentions were caring but this does not change the fact that I got hurt because the arguments came from my closest friends, people I thought know me well. Was their comprehension flawed or did I misinterpret them?
I always try to improve myself. I mostly try not to think of how I feel and about my emotions because they can be damaging, and mostly they distract me and reduce my productivity. I aspire to embody all the best abilities I find after I tailor them to my personality/character. Do I try something that cannot be done? Are those abilities fictional or inhuman? Do those views corrupt me? Real me? When I interpret ideas/points of view, don’t they become mine just because “I” interpret those? Should I create my own? Isn’t my interpretation enough? I have suffered from identity crisis before, but this time it is different. I do not know what to do or where I belong; my bricks of identity were shaken. There are only questions now, questions I currently cannot answer. I recall the famous philosophers’ comments but they are not helping. Maybe I need to find an answer, but even when I do, would it be really me or my friends or the ideas I absorbed? Who is “me”? What is “me”? Are ideas forms of manipulation? Even I shape them, are they mine? Then, no one is original, everybody copies. Does this make everyone as one? I sometimes think that maybe this is the only way to feel or to exist, and then if it is not? Are all pieces of art I created are mine or not, or does just because I spend time on making those make them mine? What if I copied them without realizing? Am I living a lie? Even so, how can my friends be the judge of identity? Who can be, besides me? But then why do I feel uncomfortable about this? Why am I thinking about “me”? What do I like? This is like an endless circle; I come to the same question, “Who am I?”. After a while I have to think about how I feel because I have already thought about almost every subject and now there are only anxiety and fear. I feel trapped with lots of questions, and all the emotions come with them until I get distracted.
The waiter disturbed me because I ordered just one cup of coffee in hours. He said order or leave, how rude of him I thought. I was not aware of the time. I paid and left the café. When I stepped outside the café and started to walk, and I realized what I like and what I don’t like. I like coffee and I don’t like getting kicked out of somewhere. Identity is a matter of exploring, and without thinking and trying it is not possible to find who you are. Playing it safe is not an option. I should thank my friends and the waiter.