When the quest for authenticity results in fakeness.

I feel like any attempt at putting myself out there results in me telling people want I think they want to hear. Like crafting the image of me I want people to have and not showing who I really am, even if the later is my intention. My goals and ambitions come and go with my moods, and it’s impossible to draft a clear sense of self when such profoundly defining characteristics sit on a lazy Susan.

My head is too meta. I am afraid of being inauthentic, therefore, I address the issue, which manifests a fake version of me that is trying to attract pity for trying and down the rabbit hole I go. I don’t think I lack authenticity, I just think I experience the world through empathy more than I do through my own lenses. If I watch fireworks, I’m more interested in how the fireworks make my friend feels, I’m more interested in the expression of joy on their faces than I am interested in the colorful stimulus of my own eyeballs. I like to say that I have an abstract mind, I am not so much interested in things, I am more interested in the movement and relations between things.

Maybe I could find solace and even stability in accepting that I have an abstract mind and am therefore, an abstract person.

I think I’m done talking about myself, the next entry, I’ll tackle the things that actually matter to me.