Don't Be Yourself

(or 'A Letter to my Younger Self')


Don't be yourself.

Find yourself.
Because to be yourself implies
there is some predetermined, predefined
end result called 'You',
which simply isn't true.

This suggestion
that you should reach some state of sheer perfection
and yell "stick a fork in me, I'm done!"
is frankly dumb.
Pull the other one, son,
you've got a lifetime yet.
Close the oven door you plum.

Now I know you've read it's been said
that 'we are the self, here and now',
but what I'm trying to say is,
that 'self' is constantly incomplete.
We're less like the finished article
and more like buildings on a construction site
with no completion date.

And we're always redecorating,
adding new floors and new rooms,
like a man with a conservatory addiction.
And everyone's different.
Some people build high walls with their affliction,
and some have self-portrait galleries,
and some have just one large room,
empty,
except for a wardrobe in the corner,
witch they keep lion about the contents of.

And as for you,
well you've got all sorts going on.
Your building's like a collage of collages.
At the centre is an engine of rationality
that rarely stops spinning.
In some rooms,
OCD is scribbled on the walls
in an uneven fashion.
And there's a room full of jigsaws
where some of the pieces have gone astray,
but that's okay,
because you can find peace in knowing
that the engine down below is always searching for them.

And on the 20th floor,
there's a swimming pool with a water slide,
reflects your playful side,
not running top to bottom,
but from bottom to the top,
because you always go against the grain and you know it,
so show it,
wear it.
It's not your cross,
you shouldn't have to bare it.

Now we both know why that pool's 20 floors up.
It's because you never learnt to swim,
and you figure the extra height
makes it feel like
the problems not that deep.
But there's no need to be afraid of drowning,
as long as you heed this - kind of weird sounding - metaphor:

that mistakes are a lot like petrol cans.
You can put them in your backpack
and have them weigh you down on your journey,
or you can use them to fuel your car,
so they become the driving force behind your success.
Just remember to throw the empty cans out the window.

And I know you don't know how to drive.
Neither do I.
And that's cool 'cause learning's half the fun.

Which reminds me,
never
stop
learning,
or yearning for knowledge.
Because that burning desire,
that academic fire
isn't just satisfied in school or college.

All the world's a classroom,
and when it comes to skills,
you're a bit of a player.
Or at least you would be
if you just played the field a bit more.

So pick your head up off the desk,
pull that matchstick-finger out of your ear
and with it,
strike up a conversation between perseverance and inspiration.
Then throw that match onto your building,
and watch as it dances with the flames
in a symbiotic tango,
high-rising together.
Become the arsonist of your inhibitions.
Send out smoke signals
to clear the smokescreen blinding those around you.
Scribble on the sky in an uneven fashion,
'It's okay to try'.

And I'm not gonna lie to you,
It's gonna get hot sometimes - no, not like that.
What I mean is the smoke and the heat
will at times makes you choke,
and repeat
that you might just revoke your own right
to give a crap.

But whatever you do, don't get out of the kitchen.
No matter how much you want to run,
just wait,
until the sweet smoke rises from the oven
and cries to your senses, "I'm finished!".
And then give it
five
more
minutes,
whenever you think
it might be done.