but one picks the rice krispie treat

It ocurred to me today that no matter how hard you try to stay true to who you are, there will always be an “X” factor that snivels it’s way up in your buisness and influences you whether you like it, or not.

This realization was accompanied by a wave of melancholy wistfullness for the ability to maintain one’s original perspective. How am I supposed to be me if I’m just a result of various good and bad X fctors I’ve happened to have encountered throughout my life? That’s not a person, or a personality, or anything special at all. I’m unique, but haphazardly. Where’s the glowing joy and solid self-esteem in that?

On the subway downtown, I was joined by a young pre-teen ballerina hopeful who gracefully climed through the masses of cloaked people monsters into the orangish seat beside me and my Russian bottle-dancer pants. Her very existence amidst such an odd collection of darkly clothed new yorkers seemed paradoxical, so I stared at her. She didn’t seem to mind, and probably passed me off as another one of those subway creepers everyone tries not to look at but ll knows that they’re standing right in front of you acting like a crazed bufoon asking for your money. Or just taking it.

But it was in the midst of staring at and somehow right through into the spaces of my conscious this young ballerina that my answer to my previous question was discovered.

I AM unique, and it’s not haphazardly either. I AM special, and I AM existing as the person i was originally intended to be. Circumstances and situations may dictate certain aspects of my life, but how I react to them and what I do in them is where I shine out. My knawing fear of thinking I was a robot was vanquished: I choose what I do.

Isn’t that just it? I choose. We all choose. It’s a choice; everything is a choice. And I’d everything is a choice, and our own seperate unique personalities all react in our own seperate unique ways, then we are all, by definition, our own unique beings. Never again will I fret over not “acting like myself” or “losing sight of who I really am”. You are who you are, always. You can’t escape yourself. And although you may like to sometimes, the fact that we will always maintain possession of our inner selves and souls is a truly beautiful thing.

In the immortal words of Heidi, Susan, Hunter, and Jeffy- I’d rather be 9 peoples favorite thing than 100 people’s ninth favorite thing. I’d rather be just me, all the time, every time. How refreshing :)

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