What defines us, what makes us who we are?

If someone asked you who you are, how else could you answer them except by uttering your name? What defines us? Is it our jobs? Our studies? The music we listen to? The clothes we choose to wear? Or maybe the books we read or refuse to read, the TV shows we are hooked on or the ones we cannot stand?

If someone came up to you right this instance and demanded to know: “Tell me who you are!”…what would you tell them?

It all comes down to wearing masks – those masks I was talking about a while ago. We have so many of them that sometimes I start to wonder if we even know who we are anymore. Maybe we’ve forgotten our true selves on account of trying to convince everyone else we’re someone we’re not. Maybe we’ve lost our true essence, the things that define us amongst all the superficial nothings that glitter but have no value. Maybe we don’t know how to tell people who we are because of all those empty words and phrases with which we fill up conversations just to pass the time, and yet don’t really say anything…

Who are you? Can you answer me this? Do you even have the courage to try to answer? I dare you!

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