Shall I go Whitman?
Oh, I am ME. I am everything that makes me me.
Every atom, every cell from the top of my cranium to my not so very far away toes is me,
Oh, I contain multides:
I am the wife who uses the toolbox for household complaints,
I am the human who feeds and sings to the cats to whom which I belong,
I am the teacher who teaches and laughs heartily when the students ask again for extra credit,
I am the hard of hearing and hard of seeing who bumbles through life wondering what just happened,
I am the one in the kitchen hoping that the recipe I have never made before and about to serve to guests turns out okay,
I am the reader who will nosily interrupt your reading to find out how you like the book, while wishing you would go away as I read mine.
Do I contradict myself? Of course I contradict myself, especially when I cannot remember what I said before.