Welcome back dear reader, it's been four hours, eight minutes and thirteen seconds. Last time I told you about the many "mes" there are, but I think I've come to terms with it, in that they're not splinters of my mind, they're a collective unit, working together to keep me alive, to keep me sane, to make me dare to dream. The many "mes" are what you'd call a coping mechanism for a child who was left to wonder, who realized from an early age that mom and dad didn't have all the answers, the pastor at church didn't either, the teachers at school had no clue sometimes, and peers that were supposed to find your plights relatable were fine with satisfactory made up answers, or fine with whatever answer was generally acceptable. I think it must all have started with morbidly curious me, and the other "mes" must have emerged to keep him in check, and others might have emerged over time as I interacted with other humans and tried to make my personality malleable, tried to give everyone a version of me that'll suit them, and overtime, even in the absence of those people, those personalities become a part of me, they become more than a farce, and when they try to overreach, a new me is created at times, one that lives in denial of that personality, one that is sometimes the complete opposite of it; like the me that considers myself a genius among my proximal peers, and the other one that yells dullard whenever I try to gloat because that one kid on YouTube carries out surgeries on live patients and I struggle while demonstrating tepid sponging on a doll.

Sounds terrifying? Don't bother, it's not as terrifying as it may seem to a third party when you've lived it; for many people, hell is life without electricity; for some, it's life when you're unsure of your next meal, for others, it's life if the UNICEF aid truck suddenly stops coming one day; it's if the men with the bleached skin and their dull counterparts that look like you but somehow display stupidity akin to that of the bleached people; realize that the worthless shiny stones and pieces of ore that has no use whatsoever you exchange for meager food rations are actually worthless and turn you back one day; it's if the water drizzling tap that helps you survive the three days hunger marathon before the kind market women that leave you foodstuffs every four market days pass, dries up. Hell isn't hell for everyone.

As for me, I've learnt to find solace in it, I try my possible best not to build entirely new personalities for people or demographics that come into my life, but to take some or all of the preexisting ones and mould or merge them, in rations that'll suit them, until the day my world begins to value originality, and not just whatever puts a smile on their face, behaviour and mannerisms they find satisfactory, only then will me and people like me, be able to live their original selves in peace. I want to hope it comes in my lifetime, but nihilist me knows that's unrealistic, but it's a comforting thought that it'll happen as long as the human race continues to thrive, nothing is impossible on large time frames anyway.

If you enjoy this, don't forget to subscribe and encourage me 😊.

Welcome back dear reader, it's been four hours, eight minutes and thirteen seconds. Last time I told you about the many "mes" there are, but I think I've come to terms with it, in that they're not splinters of my mind, they're a collective unit, working together to keep me alive, to keep me sane, to make me dare to dream. The many "mes" are what you'd call a coping mechanism for a child who was left to wonder, who realized from an early age that mom and dad didn't have all the answers, the pastor at church didn't either, the teachers at school had no clue sometimes, and peers that were supposed to find your plights relatable were fine with satisfactory made up answers, or fine with whatever answer was generally acceptable. I think it must all have started with morbidly curious me, and the other "mes" must have emerged to keep him in check, and others might have emerged over time as I interacted with other humans and tried to make my personality malleable, tried to give everyone a version of me that'll suit them, and overtime, even in the absence of those people, those personalities become a part of me, they become more than a farce, and when they try to overreach, a new me is created at times, one that lives in denial of that personality, one that is sometimes the complete opposite of it; like the me that considers myself a genius among my proximal peers, and the other one that yells dullard whenever I try to gloat because that one kid on YouTube carries out surgeries on live patients and I struggle while demonstrating tepid sponging on a doll.

Sounds terrifying? Don't bother, it's not as terrifying as it may seem to a third party when you've lived it; for many people, hell is life without electricity; for some, it's life when you're unsure of your next meal, for others, it's life if the UNICEF aid truck suddenly stops coming one day; it's if the men with the bleached skin and their dull counterparts that look like you but somehow display stupidity akin to that of the bleached people; realize that the worthless shiny stones and pieces of ore that has no use whatsoever you exchange for meager food rations are actually worthless and turn you back one day; it's if the water drizzling tap that helps you survive the three days hunger marathon before the kind market women that leave you foodstuffs every four market days pass, dries up. Hell isn't hell for everyone.

As for me, I've learnt to find solace in it, I try my possible best not to build entirely new personalities for people or demographics that come into my life, but to take some or all of the preexisting ones and mould or merge them, in rations that'll suit them, until the day my world begins to value originality, and not just whatever puts a smile on their face, behaviour and mannerisms they find satisfactory, only then will me and people like me, be able to live their original selves in peace. I want to hope it comes in my lifetime, but nihilist me knows that's unrealistic, but it's a comforting thought that it'll happen as long as the human race continues to thrive, nothing is impossible on large time frames anyway.

If you enjoy this, don't forget to subscribe and encourage me 😊.