I used to put a lot of thought into trying to figure out myself. Its probably been two years since I last pondered. This leads me to believe that I did indeed find myself. But here I am, in my mid-early twenties (23), and I don't know any more about myself than I did back then. What has changed? Its not the answer. I guess the question has changed entirely. I no longer dwell on who I am. I now wonder if I like this person I've become.
I really don't understand why I spend time thinking about this. Its not because I'm vein enough to care what other people think about me. And I don't think it stems from an unconscious motivation to change my personality.
I really like solving those tricky mensa word and number problems. Its not because I'm especially good at them. Solving the problems isn't my favorite part. I really love the feeling of looking up the answer after unsuccessfully trying to solve the puzzle. I love the feeling of being enlightened of the solution. They're usually quite elegant and simplistic. Yet the problem was so devious, I had to completely surrender myself to it.
That is who I am. That says it all. Draw your own conclusions.
