Late night thoughts of self introspection of a personal nature by me / Plough

What if 'me' really isn't me? What if the images and ideals in my head that I hold true to be what makes up myself is nothing but a concocted and distorted version of a totally different person? I walk all around town with the assumption that I appear a certain way to other people, that I take up a distinct amount of space that the rest of the universe most negotiate in its grand scheme, that I can maintain a degree of control over my characteristics and demeanor.

But what if that's not me? The only person that thinks that is me is myself and that's not saying a lot. Only one person out of 5 billion can vouch for me looking and acting like myself. The harsh reality is that I'm likely someone else - that I'm actually the person I hear when I hear my voice on a tape recording. He sorta sounds like me. Who is that guy? Why is he me? Why can't I just be me? It sure would make things easier. But I suppose that's the way it's supposed to be. Damned to live a life of uncertainty. Hoping that the real me is as cool and smart as the one I'm stuck with. Knowing deep down that he's probably more of a dip shit.

That would explain a lot.