Who Am I?

[YukiTen]

[STYLE=padding-top: 10px;] [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,background-color: #f8f8f8; padding-left: 10px; padding-top: 10px; padding-right: 10px; width: 100px;padding-bottom: 10px;]

[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,background-color: #80d0ea; width: 400px;][STYLE=font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold; font-size: 77px; z-index: 1; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: -15px; position: relative; margin-top: -10px; color: #ffffff; opacity: .6; alpha:filter(opacity=60%);]double[/style][STYLE=font-family: georgia; font-style: italic; text-transform: lowercase; z-index: 2; font-size: 45px; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 2px; margin-top: -50px; position: relative;]rainbow[/style][STYLE=font-family: century gothic; font-size: 15px; color: #ffffff; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center;]all the way. what does it mean?[/style]

[STYLE=margin-top: -65px] [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,background-color: #f8f8f8; width: 50px; padding-left: 10px; padding-bottom: 10px;] [STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #b43b3b;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #eaa23c;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #f8fa71;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #47c063;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #6673c4;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #a783ba;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #b43b3b;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #eaa23c;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #f8fa71;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #47c063;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #6673c4;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #a783ba;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #b43b3b;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #eaa23c;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #f8fa71;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #47c063;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #6673c4;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #a783ba;] [/style]

[atrb=width,50,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,background-color: #f8f8f8; width: 50px; padding-right: 8px; padding-bottom: 10px;] [STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #b43b3b;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #eaa23c;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #f8fa71;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #47c063;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #6673c4;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #a783ba;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #b43b3b;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #eaa23c;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #f8fa71;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #47c063;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #6673c4;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #a783ba;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #b43b3b;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #eaa23c;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #f8fa71;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #47c063;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #6673c4;] [/style][STYLE=width: 50px; line-height: 100%; background-color: #a783ba;] [/style]

[atrb=width,400,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style,background-color: #80d0ea; padding: 10px; width: 400px;][STYLE=background-color: #ffffff; opacity: .6; alpha:filter(opacity=60%); font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; color: #000000; width: 250px; padding: 5px; text-align: justify; height: 223px; overflow: auto; margin-bottom: -23px;] Who Am I? Who am I? That is probably the hardest question anyone at sixteen could ever answer. It's probably even harder for someone twenty years older that's already lost sight of who they wanted to be. For I, a teen without knowledge of where I'm going or what I'm going to see in order to shape me, am unable to answer this question properly. I know that I am a person, female. Around five feet tall with naturally black hair and honey brown eyes. I have long eyelashes and perfectly shaped eyebrows. I'm not exactly skinny, not fat either. My pale skin is covered in little freckles and scars. I have a tan and a bit of sunburn from being out in the sun as much as I have been. (laugh) My teeth are fucked. I have a gap and the whole bottom row is just crooked. My jaw tilts downward on the right side. My cheekbones are undefined. My collar bone is too noticeable. My shoulders are broad and they don't slope enough. My wrists are thin. My skin is soft. I know that I have blackened lungs and an irregular, hard heartbeat; holes in my brain and tears and cists riddling my insides. I have a cough full of smoke and age. My nose is stopped up with pollen and mucous. I know that my family is built by the blood, sweat, and tears of the Native Americans, German, and the Polish. Violence and anger of the Russians burns inside me with the bitter taste of vodka accompanying. Addiction ties down my heart and my mind with Irish chains. My upturned nose is trait derived from French blood. Loyalty and the rules that follow stick by me and hang over my shoulders like the Italian mobs do their enemies. Latvian submission and eagerness to quit strike me daily. Poetic language fills my writing as the English fill my veins. I know that I have a warped personality. I constantly contradict myself. I lie. I hide behind a thick and heavy mask. I shelter myself from all the true horrors in the world. I cover my eyes and duck my head in the sand whenever trouble comes near. I fear the inevitable. The smallest things will turn me into a sobbing mess of a human being. I have the shortest temper. I get violent and angry without warning. I manipulate to keep myself from getting into certain kinds of troubles. I keep myself unattached so that I never feel the pain of abandonment again. I resort to saying things I don't mean in order to keep people at a distance. I'm constantly building walls around myself and shutting everyone out. I have such a high fear of change in routine and change in relationships and change in anything in general that I cry myself to sleep at night. I bitch and I whine about things. I purposefully try to force people into seeing me as another person so that they don't have to see the real me. I know that there are parts of me that want to become better, that want to heal, that want to let go, that want to be confident. I want to smile. I want to trust in everyone around me. I want to believe that no matter where I go people won’t judge me the way I judge myself. I want to believe in something that is greater than myself. I want to believe in life after death. I want to believe in happiness. I want to believe. I want to hold hands with everyone and give hope to those who've lost it. I want people to open up to me and to trust me. I want to help. I want to make people smile. I want to touch people's hearts. I want to be kind. There is so much good in this world that I want to do for others. Yet, when I try, it all goes wrong. I know that my actions are often mistaken for betrayal and blame and dishonesty and disloyalty. I hide myself to protect others. I'm so mean to keep people from reaching into me and pulling out my vulnerable, defensive soul. I would come out kicking and screaming, trying my hardest to dive back into my hiding place. I want to move away from my family so that they don’t have to take care of me anymore, so that they don’t have to put up with me anymore. I want to remove myself from society so that I don’t hurt the wrong person. At times, I believe that everything is backwards. I believe that I want everyone to suffer as I have suffered. I believe everyone deserves to. Everything does a complete one-eighty and everything becomes one huge contradictory mess. There are many things I know that I am. However, I'm not sure that they define who I am. Is it possible to be something but have no definition? Is it possible to do things without standing for anything? Is it possible to be someone without really being someone? Do I really have to know? There are many memories I have I know that shape me, though I don't believe they are what shapes me directly. They do not mold me. How I choose to react to them do. So, who am I? I don’t know. It's impossible to. You don’t know who you are until you breathe in that last breath, find that inner peace the moment your heart fails, and pass into a deep slumber. You must fulfill your purpose before you can find yourself. [/style]

[STYLE=font-family: century gothic; font-size: 12px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase;]made by zingara of BTN[/style]