Or something.

So, as many of you non-existent readers know, I enjoy stumbling. Well, I do stumble here and there in real life too and it's enjoyable when I recover, but I think you probably know what I mean since it's 20:12 after all. I think I've come across it before and didn't think too much of it, as I began to this time, until I came across numero sept of "40 Photo-Illustrated Questions to Refocus Your Mind". I thought to myself, why not? My mind certainly needs focusing. It's been all out of whack for over a year now, to the point I wonder if people who've met me have really met me at all. Then again, maybe they have, and I haven't?

The point is clearly I need refocusing, so I did, I mean, I tried, and I was breezing through them. Breezing through until my scroll came to a sudden stop at number 7.


In one sentence

(then they have this nice spread out space in the picture)

who are you?

I am... I... I'm...


Let me get this straight, I ask the question. You want me to put who I am in a single sentence? I... Well, I don't know.


I'm...alone? 


A bit emo, but a nice try. Still, a what not a who. 


Confused?


Again.


I don't know who I am, much less could I explain so in a sentence.


I'm...I'm a human? A college student? A dreamer? An INFJ? An idealist? I'm an honest, moody, running to stay on the path young person whole loves old land cameras that don't even work? Don't judge me, mind, I'm just spitballing here. 


So since I wasn't really getting anywhere with who I was, in a sentence, I tried to think about who I'm not. And that was even more endless, so I decided to narrow it down in my age group.  


Well. 

I don't have fucking sparrows for a tattoo or feathers in my hair and I didn't send a buy one get one free pair of shoes to a third world country. 

I didn't lose my virginity drunk at midnight or in love, I gave it to nine in the sunrise just because.

I don't have a hobby. 

I'm not particularly political, unless it's hit close to home or it's ridiculously against what I see as what should be some kind of general human ethic. 

I don't really focus on my health or my studies. I'm not particularly gifted in a specific area. 

I am a listener. Aha! But. Even still, sometimes people can't get a word in edgewise and what's a listener anyways. 

I've never really donated my time or made boatloads of money for it. I'm not even a pretty face.

Unlike most broke jobless students, I'm not so broke at this moment since I'm decent at saving money and also finding deals, but in retrospect, they're usually a bit impulsive, hoardy, and not that great anyways.

I'm not particularly well-read on any subject or author. I'm not particularly opinionated. 

I'm mostly honest, but only mostly. I'm sometimes funny, but usually just in amusing myself. 

I don't have a band of friends who have something in common or something they stand for. My friends are about like my sandwiches. I just pick the ones I like whether or not they really go together. Sometimes I just pick what's readily available from my options and make the most of it. 

I could be a leader because I have an eye for organization in anything that isn't my room, or perhaps just physical in general, and I used to even be bossy. Still quick-tempered, but usually only at my mom, and that's who I got it from anyways. Yet I'm not because I'm too meager.

I am quiet but I'm not close-mouthed. I will happily give you the answers to your prying questions. 

I often spend my time sparing into space these days. I am extremely forgetful, although this is extremely recent. Probably this is all because I am insatiable in that I seem to always decide I want things once I realize I can't have them. What a brat.

I'm not artistic.

I'm not ridiculously smart.

My eyesight sucks, by the way.

I can't even cook. Okay, maybe I haven't tried as much as I would like to. 

I'm not sporty. 

I'm not a computer whiz.

I'm not good at being a lady or a man. 

I can't ride anything, not even my own ego, not unless it's a joke. 

Jesus Christ.

I'm not that either.

Although. He was apparently an INFJ too. Then again, there's only 16 personalities in the world so fuck it.

So naming all the things I'm not really ends up being kind of irritating. I don't even know what I want to be anyways. So what, no, so who am I?

Geez, gents, I just don't know. I'm just this girl up late at night typing away a stream of some consciousness at the only venue that won't talk back about feedback I could give a shit less about.

I am Karen Cockrum, and not the one that died in a car accident at 15. I want a perfect happy life just like everybody else, even the douchebags who say, "no, I don't," but really, they do. Perfect's subjective anyways. I am an introspective person who simply wants her friends to feel better instead of worse after talking to her. I want to do something exciting on occasion and to hear about the excitement experienced by others so we can all have at least vicariously lived a bit of everything. I like camping when it's not too manual and sometimes even blogging like this, and I like people who both challenge and respect me. Who am I? I'm a realistic romantic who enjoys a good cynical laugh and the occasional odd circumstance to tell a tale about later. I don't care if things here conflict because I'm thinking all of them, therefore I am. Or something.