I am shaped by everything around me, I look inward immediately to assess my interior rather than looking at the actual space between us where the thing lives,
I am shaped by everything around me, I carry intact from room to room but a living response to every single thing I have ever been in contact with,
If the version of me that appears in one relationship is genuinely different from the version that appears in another, which one is truly me, and am I willing to accept both without making one of them wrong,
I am shaped by everything around me, as much as I was shaped by it and the distance between those two truths is where all the real work is waiting...
I’ve been gathering knowledge about myself, from the past and living inside, that made those old decisions and felt those old feelings is the same old person after all,
I’ve been gathering knowledge about myself, which I’ve come to call self-awareness that I carry with me everywhere, safeguarding the version, even I continue to strive for the version I’m still becoming,
Is the image I have of myself now constructed based on the knowledge I’ve gained from my past decisions, which I’ve been gathering evidence to support for years?
I’ve been gathering knowledge about myself, and presenting it as understanding when the living and present and I still keep asking her to stop and fit back inside it...
Learning about myself is not a project I can complete in the same way I complete other things I build, because I haven’t fully made peace with myself yet,
Learning about myself is not a project I can complete because the self I am learning about is not sitting still in response to everything the studying makes me see and feel,
What would I have to give up holding so tightly if I accepted that the most honest and current version of myself is still arriving in this exact unfinished moment,
Learning about myself is not a project I can complete and the part of me that keeps turning every genuine discovery into a settled conclusion so the looking can finally stop...
The past version of myself I keep referencing did not always choose wisely, but she deserves compassion, not the control I keep granting her over parts of my life she has never known,
The past version of myself I keep referencing is not wrong about everything I have made her so central to my identity that correcting her feels like erasing my whole foundation,
When I make a decision today, am I drawing on genuine wisdom or am I just choosing the familiar over the true because the familiar I already know is merely built for surviving,
The past version of myself is not something to be outgrown with shame, but she is also not the only voice allowed to speak about what this present, alive, and still-unfinished version of me can become…
I exist only inside everything I have ever touched,
The case file I kept was never self-awareness,
The self keeps changing while I try to document it,
The past version is not the only voice entitled,
The familiar I know how to survive over the true...
