“I remember being in my twenties wishing I was in my forties because those people seemed to know who they were. The thought of being grounded and comfortable in my own skin was so appealing, better than most of the magazine ads I saw selling something. After having so much life experience, I can definitely say it is not age related to know who you are. Some know who they are very young, and some don’t have a clue even when they’re in their seventies. And even if you don’t know, you can still find out. It’s never too late….”
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“The word ‘really’ is an interesting spin on the age-old question, ‘Who are you?’ It adds a sort of comedic relief to the otherwise stressful question – at least for me. Because the great irony is that nobody knows the answer. Any answer we would give to the question ‘who are you?’ is only a placeholder. A container so as not to overstretch our boundaries of ‘self’. An attempt at solidifying the un-solidifiable. But here is my best attempt at answering the question:…”
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"I like to think that I'm a nice guy. I think I'm friendly, enthusiastic and emotional. I think I'm really a lot more normal than people think when they meet me. This comes of the fact that I like to keep people from knowing who I really am. There’s a couple of people who think they know me, and yes they know more about me than most people ever will. But as of now, I only have two friends where I don't feel the need to hide my true self from. One of them is on Quora. You know who you are. I keep most people out with a mix of dark and perverted humour. I guess it's a kind of defense mechanism. But I keep people out, you never know who's gonna use their knowledge of me to hurt me."

“So you feel entitled to a sense of control
And make decisions that you think are your own
You are a stranger here, why have you come?
Why have you come, lift me higher, let me look at the sun
Look at the sun and once I hear them clearly, sayWho, who are you really?
And where are you going?
I have nothing left to prove
‘Cause I have nothing left to lose
See me bare my teeth for you
Who, who are you?…”
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“I’m one wildebeest in a herd of fifty thousand (million?). Sometimes the grazing is good, other times not. Sometimes there’s water in the river, other times not. There are the lions, of course, but some of the other beests are just as dangerous, or at least just as annoying. And some of them smell so good it’s hard even to graze near them without — you know.”
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