I-d-entities

Identity, pretends to be the word that sums up who we are. A concept vast enough to hold all our complexities. It’s what we work on since the moment we reconize ourselves separate from others. We build it up, we defend it, we take pride in adding accomplishments to it. Yet, here I am trying to reflect on what the accumulation of 32 years of sculpting -this ever flimsy thought- has ammounted to, and coming out empty. Even worse, fragmented.

This isn’t to pose the question of weither an individual’s existance can be reduced into numbred facts or lists of experiences and historical events, for that in my opinion is a great injustice.

The question I am pondering is : Why do we even care so much about having an Identity?
Certainly, their are titles and roles that must be assigned for society to function. But why do those roles take up the bigger part of my existence? Why should they bleed into my every waking moment to put pressure on me to behave accordingly even outside of the tasks to wich they are relevent?. What remains when I put away my role as mother,daughter,wife,student…etc? Why is it so hard to see what is left?
You probably figured, this smells of either spiritual or philosophical dumping ground. But I will not take you there. You’re better off reading litteraly any one else. And that is my mess to sort out, and mine alone.

But let’s talk about the fragmentation.

I am writing this long-ass article on a boring white page. And you my friend are still reading it. I wish I knew your reasons for getting this far. But let me tell you mine.
I have things that want to be expressed.Not everything I put out, I actively wanted to share, but some thoughts and emotions are just like that annoying song that rings non-stop in your head driving you insane, unless you sing it all out.(preferably alone. Let’s be real, if you had a good singing voice, this would not even be a problem).

So these tenasious thoughts just decide they want out, and often they choose their form too, and the langage.

So many times I would attempt to write a story but a poem comes out. I would attempt a poem but I get journali page instead. Or I’ll feel something so moving, I want to write it in Arabic, the langage I master the most, in order to make it poetic and beautiful, but I’ll only access it when writing in English.

Since I clearly have little control over what I put down on paper (or screen), I pick and choose what I push out to the public on social media. And there, I lose the “I” and come the “entities”.

Success in the social media game dictates that for every plateforme a different “entity” must be conjured. Only a fragment of the whole can be presented and it must be in accord with peoples expectations.
For Facebook make it digestable, emotional whatever the emotion might be, and be sure to speak in an echo chamber to variants of the same you, if you don’t have those, no worries they will be provided free of charge.

For twitter make it loud, angry, self-righeous and major bonus points if your righteousness leads a crusade on someone else.

For Instagram just make it pretty.Real or fake, either works. Don’t forget to be happy. Again, happiness doesn’t have to be real either.

Of course there are exceptions, there are authentic people trying to provide value and the crazier this fair gets, the more I am in awe of those able to come out through it unscathed.

I have attempted (and failed honorably) to play the game. And despite my lack of following on either spaces, the concern with reaching others makes the “entity” so destructive and controling. Also no one space gives me the satisfaction of fealing true and authentic. for their are traits or skills that must be put forth over others, and if you don’t choose wich, the algorithm will.

This is a very long way to say I’m becoming too old for social media. But the issue is I can’t seem to grasp what the whole “I” encompasses for starter.
I might be terrified of showing up, because I barely have a clue what exactly will show .