Who Am I? Essay

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Who Am I?

Today as I look back at the first paper that I wrote for this class, I see that it is not the type of paper that I usually write. It is not full of big, sophisticated words. Rather it is a paper that does what it is supposed to, explain in simple english my thoughts on the subject. Those thoughts are that today most college kids are whiners and students go to college because it is the norm. I also gave a couple of abstracts to these. I never really took a stand as to which of those pertained to me. But I think that they all do in a sense. In a way I am irresponsible. I leave stuff to the last minute, I cram, and I get a attitude and just say screw it. As for the metaphor part of the first paper, I do feel that I am a parent
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Quite the contrary. It's just like style. At school my approach to work is very different than when I am at my summer job. At school I can slack and still get away with it. But in the summer, if I slack, I get my ass chewed, and possibly fired. Which of these two is more like who I really am? This worst thing is, I don't even know.

Who am I? What is the relationship between my self and the self that I portray, if there is a difference? I am I, or am I? What follows is the first to verses of a Queensryche song entitled "I am I."

Beating with life you promised life, security, happiness. Unfortunate son cornered, cowering in the pit of circling panes of glass that surround and reveals the ever present it.
"It" is my move, my every look, interpreting gestures, informing others what's undercover and lurking beneath my mask of this year's featured model. I this to much? Close your eyes. Care to look inside? I am I.

I just finished listening to this song and it gave me insight on my present dilemma. I think that these verse say that on the outside, when he looks into the glass, he doesn't see what he wants to see. So he lifted the mask. But then he rethought this maneuver, do I really want everyone to know who I really am. I think that this pertains to me. The me that writes is not the real me. For me writing is a mask. When I write I hide my true self. But why? Because other people may not like who I really

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