Draft after draft after draft.
At what point are you happy?
There's always room for improvement.
As my second, first academic year draws to an end, I can see I have improved a lot in all ways.
I feel as though this 'thought' is a metaphor and justification for how I have changed as a person.
4th redraft already.
I'm as disposable as the words I have just deleted.
I will, can, and have redrafted myself.
From personality traits to twitter accounts: they can be trashed.
I redraft your idea of me with childhood story.
I redraft your thoughts of me with my choice of clothes.
I redraft your perception of me with every word I use and every word I don't.
You see, I, like you, am a social construct.
Who am I really?
Who are you really?
Identity issues? Not even.
Since my intellect has improved as a direct result of the improvement in choice of university, my understanding of society has also surged.
Or actually, decreased?
What is society?
What is reality?
It isn't real.
'Earth' is a social construct, filled with infinite complexities.
We will never know,
Who I really am,
Who you really are.
What. Is. Life.
Will we ever know?
And no, I'm not high.
