Autobiography

Cemel Dosce. Know thyself.

What's there to know about me? Every life is a series of stories, many beginnings and endings, meta-narratives within the overall plot. It doesn't really matter where or when I was born. My name isn't that important. I'm just a face, one among the billions on this insignificant planet we like to call "Earth," within the infinite amount of space out there that we could never fully understand. I am not a hero, nor am I a villain. My actions or lack thereof will never change the world. I am merely a random person stumbling about this life in an attempt to find meaning. Who I am now is the cumulative of all that I've ever been before, and I couldn't possibly tell you every little detail. That would be boring.

I am a writer, forever observing the world I live in and attempting to capture its reality in whatever story I am about to tell. I am a student, soaking in any knowledge I can, analyzing my experiences in life, and confronting the challenge of new information and ideas. I am a teacher, interacting with others and helping them learn as they in turn do the same for me. I am a wanderer, comfortably lost in the sea of faces that surround me and happy to just be unknown. I am a dancer, finding joy in my random twirls, preferably in the rain. I am a daughter, raised by my parents to be stubborn, independent, and proud. I am a sister, loyal to my sibling. I am a listener, always willing to be there for anyone who needs to just talk. Above all, though, I am a survivor. I will continue to fight with all that I have and survive every obstacle life presents me with, and I will never let my experiences influence me to stop caring. So many people in this world have sacrificed a great deal in order to give me a chance to succeed, to open doors for me that would have been locked otherwise. I owe it to them and to myself to be all that I can be, no infringement intended on the Army’s slogan.

But some things aren't meant for the world to see. Who I am, the person I really am inside, the person only a select few know, happens to be one of those things. If one earns my trust, they will earn the privilege of seeing that side of me I hide, the part of me beyond the mask. It is impossible for words to fully explain one’s personality, all the different aspects to a person’s life. We all hide behind what we think others want to see, speaking the words like parrots and holding tightly to our defensive front out of fear that others will harshly judge who we truly are. I, too, fall behind this screen, fearing the introduction of who I am to the world. This is the mask I wear, and this is my autobiography.

Rant over.

Pax vobiscum,

- zKhristy -