I am a man of many identities. You know the Japanese proverb: you have 3 faces: for family, for friends, and for yourself. Except the lines for everything has been blurred and shattered and fragmented. Only after my self was able to cool down and recrystallize did I realize my multiple dimensions.

Within this one soul, I have many identities. Roaring, tearing, pining for attention. It seems like the beast that is within me hates the mortal shell it inhabits. Nothing short of chaos defines its existence.

In the morning, I pose as a chipper happy-go-lucky college student from the UK. Keeping up with my studies, I discuss classwork and the assigned materials with my classmates. Only over text. Never with speech.

In the afternoon, I pose as a thirty-some year old father living in suburban America. Finding similarly wayward spirits, we bring up anecdotes of raising peculiar families and laugh heartily all the way. Only over text. Never with speech.

In the evening, I log onto an obscure website and raise my wynern high. Interacting with netizens of all different backgrounds and ages, this is where I can truly be myself. Only over text. Never with speech.

Lying in bed, smacking away at a touchscreen, one question pops up in my head over and over again.
"Who am I, and what do I stand for?"
And again.
"Who am I, and what do I stand for?"
And again.
"Who am I? And what, do I stand, for?

One of my more eccentric professors did have a saying for what I experience: "Watch your words because your words become your feelings, your feelings become actions, your actions become habits, and, ladies and gentlemen, your habits becomes your character."
Self-actualization, self-esteem, self-respect, I have none of those. The reason? The engine that chugs within, the beast that roars within is unsure of my true identity. I envy those who can define who they are. While I slide off the crag, there are countless others gripping stones and hoisting themselves higher than I ever could. Perhaps this is my predestined future. Maybe I, a dejected American national, living in a foreign land under the false guise of education, have already peaked. Free will, gone. Self-worth, gone. I am but a mere skeleton of who I was.

But I tried, oh so much, to return to normalcy. I tried substituting my being with others, and others still. Was I still myself? Would a boat, replaced piece by piece, still be the same? The face I showed myself rotted, and the ones facing outwards turned into onis. No matter how hard I tried, I could not make my skeleton of a being become full again. The beast within me feasted on my weakness, and even the most vigorous setsubun pelting would not be able to drive such a demon from my soul.

But this skeleton, the only remnant of my youthful past, whispers to me, in the dead of nignt:
Who are you, and what do you stand for?

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For any of you who actually read this, I am sorry. You should not have needed to endure this.
My only hope is that, with such a backwards-facing publication date, such a story will not be read. But still... if somebody stumbles upon it...