It’s funny how writing about yourself is so hard. I can dream up entire worlds and fleshed out characters with intricate and detailed backstories in my head like it’s nothing, but if I want to say something about myself I’m reduced to something along the lines of “I like this media stuff.” I’m quite sure that doesn’t accurately describe me, but really what would?
Unlike even the most well developed characters in a made up story, we as people are infinitely complex. Every little thing around us influences us, though some more than others. We start as a blank slate as a baby, and then start sucking up interactional information like it’s air until we’ve got enough of a handle that we can talk. Once we’ve got that trick down, we start spewing that information back at other people and influencing them in return (which they may in turn may use to influence us, and so on). We’re all just a product of our interactions and our body chemistry, really. How do you put all that into words though?
For that matter, can anyone ever really know anyone else? We can know what they show us, but that’s not what’s beneath – and we’d be hard pressed to try and dissect someone’s vast swath of person-to-person (and even media-to-person) interactions such that we got their entire point of view. As people, we tend to act much like atoms; a dense inner core made up of things that never touch anything else, and then the electron shell – the bit that interacts with and repels other matter to give us shape and a sense of structure. Without the outer shell the atom would be naked and open to the harsh bombardment of particles the universe has to offer, but with it nothing can touch what’s inside.
It’s the subatomic structure of the human condition, and it’s kind of a bitch.