This below was inspired by a post from a blogger I much admire: Abby of Abby Has Issues fame: writer, published author, blogger, self-described sarcastic (and inspiring–my words) wench.
Ed. note June 2021: The link to Abby provides nothing. She musta left town. I can certainly relate.
Thank you Abby (Wherever you are finding yourself these days)
“Who am I?”
“Who do I Think I am? Who/What Should I be?”
Those should be a very provocative questions for all. Some ancient Greek guy once said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.”
I am rapidly approaching my sixth decade on This Earth and have been (painfully) taking stock of all that I could call “My Life.” What good have I accomplished? What are the bad things I have done? How many ‘friends’ do I have? How many bridges have I nuked? (I generally do not ‘burn’ bridges; I have a tendency to shock and awe ‘em—obliterate ‘em)
I have put my boots on the ground on every continent except South America. What has this taught me? A lot. Did I always use this knowledge gleaned? Most definitely not.
“Who am I?”
More and more I have come to the stark realization that I must sum me up with one word:
I am an asshole. I don’t want to be an asshole, pompous ass, arrogant ass, the smartest ass in the room, (which I obviously am… maybe once in ten or twenty tries 😉 )
I do not want to be any kind of ass, but that is my reality. I have made some friendships during my life which should have lasted forever, but didn’t: Mostly from my neglect. I have had some wonderfully loving relations with women, and actually married four of them.
Each one of those relationships should have been a lasting euphoria, but I did not, could not, would not, allow that.
Wanderlust always took me away, eventually needing to ‘get outta town’, but with no malice, just gotta go…
‘This is the part where the cowboy rides away’–find some elusive spot half-way across the globe where I could ‘find’ ME, unencumbered by people who ‘love’ me and think they can help me.
Not sure if I have ‘found me’ yet. And this is disconcerting, ‘cause I do fear the time for that is growing shorter. Writing helps, but I continue to struggle with:
“Who am I?”
I still don’t know.
As Abby broached the subject:
“How would you answer the question?”
Run with it, and drop in to read Abby: (and tell her I sent ya–I could use the publicity and btw, this link actually works)