who is you

There’s this group of people from a summer camp that I still think are the greatest group of people I’ve ever met. We befriended each other because of mischief. From sneaking out and outrunning the night to passing around an accidental playboy flyer from dorm to dorm; we were up to no good. The purpose of this camp was to learn about environmental science, but we could care less once we found each other. We did fun things and we talked about everything. We had the best conversations. And this one is my favorite.

“Change is inevitable, it just happens to us,” I declared.

“Nah I don’t think so,” my friend said.

“How so?” I questioned.

“I don’t think people change, I think people just become more of themselves,” he explained. “I think over time, we find out more about ourselves and what we like to form our identity and . . . us.”

“And that’s change,” I retorted.

“No . . .” he started, “Change is like your hair being black today and blonde tomorrow, but this is discovery, this is growing, this is honesty.”

I thought it was stupid when I first heard him say this while we were eating lunch and went back to my Starbucks drink. I’m opinionated about everything and stay grounded in them until something makes me consider another truth. I sat beside of him and silently argued against his claim, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense to me. It made me silently hate him during our lunch together, but also grateful for this new perspective.

We start out as blank sheets basically and over time we put some pencil marks there and some paint splatters there. We aren’t just one piece of art entirely of sketches or blobs of paints, but we’re first a sketching, then the painting, the shading, and finally the picture. There are times where we realize we didn’t like how something looked and erase some pencil sketches, but not the whole thing and make it better over time. Then there are times where we paint ourselves a certain color, but not the whole picture because that color means something to us, but does not define us. Essentially we are our own masterpieces of different collections of art we make of ourselves and not just one piece scrapped and becoming another piece.

This discussion still makes me think. I think of myself from high school and how I was obsessed with punk pop music, being seen as an intellect, and into fandoms obsessing over Doctor Who and Harry Potter. I don’t think I’ve changed like I would’ve argued then, but became me. I still like Misery Business and Dance, Dance and will turn it up when it comes on, but do not listen to it all the time. I liked to be complimented for my mind and have realized it’s good to be smart, but compassion, loyalty, and honesty are also admirable traits to have. I am still fond over Doctor Who, but haven’t seen it since Matt Smith left and love Harry Potter, but not with the same obsession. I am still that me from high school, but I’ve also developed an interest in classic novels, developed more sympathy towards others and humbling attitude towards life, and have an undying love for jazz music. I’m still adding color from the rough sketches I made.

This is my work in progress of a masterpiece. I’m still not done yet and you’re not either.

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