Who Am I...?

Imagine the scene:

It's half past twelve, maybe one O'Clock, at night. I've had a long and tiring day. I'm standing in front of my full length cupboard mirror. My streaked blonde hair is far too long, messed up in a sexy Hollywood way on top and flicking up like a bucking bronco round the sides and back. I haven't had my hair cut since September. I'm wearing a black UWB polo shirt with a bright yellow round coller t-shirt underneath. My arms are hanging limply by my side. A yellow rubber band on my right wrist. I'm wearing navy blue shorts, faded by sunlight and dirt, they cover my knees allowing just my shins to be on show. I have green and white stripey socks and grey Emerica skate shoes... I regard myself critically... i'm quite tall... my eyes are currently green... I tend to have a grin on my face... i'm not ugly but i'm not good looking either... I ask myself... who am I?

I suppose i'm no-one. If a stranger saw me in the street they'd pass me by very easily. I have yet to achieve anything in life other than a published article on Ultimate Frisbee and a large collection of penguin wrappers. I am destined to be one of the faces in life that is constantly passed by. Oh well. At least I won't be caught up in trying to achieve things and will be content to do my own thing (currently dicing with death and jumping off walls into various objects)

Life is more fun when no-one cares.

I've also realized that solidarity is an immensly good thing. Socializing is fun but I just get to a point where I think... i'd rather just be with myself.