Prompt: Discovery of Self-identity

This is it - that defining moment. In an instant it all becomes crystal clear. This is the moment you've been waiting for, ever since that time when your world was turned upside down and shaken, hard, and you realised that you had no idea who you were anymore. Tirelessly you've searched for a return to order, for things to settle into place once more, for there to be a clear answer to that as yet elusive question, WHO ARE YOU? But your efforts have been in vain. Enlightenment has evaded you - until now.
Is this it? Is this the moment? It would appear so. If someone asked you, right here, right now, WHO ARE YOU, you could say, THIS IS ME.
Or could you? Wait, think twice - is it really all there? Surely your answer is missing something. What was that answer again, anyway? You try to grasp at it, but the feeling of clarity slips through your fingers like sand. Before you know it, it's gone. You stare blankly at the few grains left behind, trying desperately to reassemble them into one complete whole - but your efforts are futile. You only come up with more questions. WHO AM I, you cry, despair welling deep inside you. I NEED TO KNOW.
But somewhere inside, in the depths of that pool of desperation, you know. Your efforts are useless. WHO ARE YOU? The only sure thing is this - you'll never know. But your search will be eternal.

---

Not too depressing, I hope?
Happy Monday!
KATIE

PS, I think I use 'but' too much?

I like the feeling you captured. And the oscillating, fragmented train-of-thought type description reminds me of the way my brain works sometimes.

The imagery of the sand is quite apt; I myself like to use it often when describing something we cannot quite keep.

And yes... self-identity is an eternal journey.

It's a darker take on the prompt, but realistic, in that none of really know who we are. We might have an inkling, but probably not total enlightenment, which, I am happy you mentioned as well.

Keep writing! Post moar!

Cause you're pretty good at it.

I really like writing 'fragmented train-of-thought' - I find it very satisfying, it comes out mostly exactly as I want it to.

As I got near the end I kind of wanted to talk about how we'll never completely be able to self-identify because we're constantly changing in response to the world... but I decided that would make it kinda complicated. So I didn't. I still kind of like to find a way to work it in, though... Maybe I'll have a go one day.

And it's ironic, because mostly *I* really feel like I know who I am Even though I probably don't.

And thank you Maybe I will post the prompt we wrote a while ago for the neon green lamp.

(Also, word games again sometime?! I have a hankering for vocabulary-building games )

OF COURSE.
Well, when we have study hall or some other period during which we can waste time.

I feel like that too. That I know who I am... but like you said, we probably don't. I don't think we'll ever truly know if we know ourselves or not.

I like this piece. To me, it seems very honest, and forward, and open. I really like the train-of-thought style; I agree that putting in reasons would overcomplicate it, taking away from its sincerity.

Through the alliteration in the beginning ('crystal clear', 'when ...world was') a feeling of complacent unity is established, only to be shattered by the next line, and launched in a downward spiral of inquiry towards the final, resounding adjective. Beautiful.

Please post plural pieces.

But somewhere inside, in the depths of that pool of desperation, you know. Your efforts are useless. WHO ARE YOU? The only sure thing is this - you'll never know. But your search will be eternal.

Should be... "you know your efforts are useless..." i.e. no comma?
Just randomly spotted it, thought I'd point it out.

Sentence just seems a little awk. being broken in two like that.

I don't know about that. I liked the original. It's broken up, but than it's like an interrogater is shining a light into you soul, staring with rounded eyes into you, saying you KNOW. And then the next sentence fragment completes it. That's the way I see it: I could be wrong.

Oh... I see now. I read it wierdly. >.> It makes sense the way it is as well.