Cohesive Me

“A blind man on a canyon’s edge of a panoramic scene, or maybe I’m a kite that’s flying high and random dangling a string, or slumped over in a vacant room, head on a stranger’s knee, I’m sure back home they think I’ve lost my mind.”

~Ben Folds

There’s no pretending who I am. You can’t either. Last night I spent time with a friend that’s truer to himself than anyone I’ve ever met. Sadly the system doesn’t seem to work for him, or maybe he doesn’t work for the system… but he’s true and I respect him for that.

This afternoon I spent an hour trying to defend the person he is. My other friend couldn’t accept my explanation for his actions. But don’t you see? He’s real. He doesn’t care if his behavior makes sense all the time–he knows what he wants. He has definite opinions. He doesn’t play games. He’ll lose if you beat him, but he’s not going to give in easily.

I still can’t really defend him… nor anyone else, for that matter. There are arguments I can use. I’m constantly reading and learning about the strengths and weaknesses in people’s arguments–that’s both what I study and who I am. But there’s only one person’s beliefs I can truly defend, without playing roles or making assumptions: me.

But how real am I? Am I just a product of you and you and you? No; I’ve already tried that route.

I’ve tried stealing your moves on the dance floor. I’ve tried applying your morals to my actions. I’ve tried taking advice…just because it’s from you who I respect.

But I only look like me on the dance floor. Try to deny that…. I can’t do what you do or use your explanations; they never leave me satisfied. And much as I may respect you, your advice can only encompass part of the story. You’re not me….

I am. And I’m not bits and pieces, just one cohesive person. What I write now or say later is as real as you’re going to get. This is where I want to live. I’ll never dance or date like you. I’ll hold onto my pen and paper, hoping but not needing my words to make sense to you. I can’t deny the truth.