#8.5

    Who I am is not a result of a special versatility of character, but of a survival methodology.  When I’m around my friends, I’m a goofball.  I feel obligated to indulge in as many sidetracks of humor as possible, if only to stave off the looming threat of worthwhile conversation.  To some people, I’m known as the kid with all of the pedophile jokes.  To others, I’m known as the guy who has something to say to them only every few months, perhaps all this may be is a sly recognition of this peculiar relationship.  To most adults I am solemn, careful, and considerate.  None of them right.  I am not static.  To speak in generalities, I assume different mannerisms and behaviors around different people.  Although I do have a strong sense of self, I find it difficult to not fall into a persona when interacting with differing expectations.  It is easier to meet expectations and act accordingly then be who I perceive myself to be.  It is comforting for both me and the people I interact with for me to be a static, flat character.
    With all of these strange, contradicting senses of self, I wonder if I am any of them or all of them.  I do have a strong idea of who I would like to be, and who I fancy myself to be, but considering how easily I swap personality traits, maybe I am none of them.  I suspect that there is no value in trying to sum myself up to one being.  It is an interesting exercise in futility.
    I think I understand the dynamics of my adapting to ever changing parameters in expectations and intellectual environments.  I was deemed to be middle aged by the age of eleven.  At the time, I was floundering to attach myself to something, anything, if it meant that I could have meaningful interactions with kids my age.  I couldn’t engage in the kind of conversation that I wanted to, so I took the easiest route to acceptance.  I did not try to fit in, as many kids my age did, but I tried to be as “out there” as I could be.  I made ritualistic cat sacrifice jokes.  I watched South Park, in the hopes that I could learn a new dirty word to share with my friends.  I could have an air of pretension when I needed to, so when it came down to it, I could talk with authority on things that I had little comprehension of.  It eventually became more than method acting, and it became who I was.  I tucked away who I wanted to be into a little corner of my soul, hoping that some day it would be able to shine.  It wasn’t until high school that I was able to drop the condescension, and start to let leak who I felt as though I deserved to be.