I have become lost in a perpetual delusion.
Who am I? That question has been plagueing me for as long as I can remember.
Who am I? Does anyone really know who they are? There is no simple way to descripe oneself.
Sure, we all have a name. In my case its Trey Andrew Simmons. This first part owes its thanks to some soap opera character my mother found “hunky” and to the fact that I am indeed, the third son. The second part hails from some dead relative that I never met. The third part, the family name, too bad I’m not part of millionaire Simmons’ that make beds.
More than a name, everyone (well everyone legally born or living in the United States of America that is) has a social security number. Mine is a random nine digit number not too far off from my cell phone number.
But who is someone? Who am I? Spiritually, physically, mentally, in personality or whatever else… What makes me, well, me?
Physicaly I am tall, but not really. I am skinny but more on the lanky side. I am underweight (sometimes… sometimes I just barely hit the weight I should be), covered in scars from childhood carelessness and adolescent stupidirty (or is it the other way around). My bones crack like a senior citizen. I have a cratering chest that has at points caused me severe breathing troubles and at other times served as a drunken party trick option. I am apparently not the “hottest” guy around, but at the same time I don’t seem to be hedious. What’s that make me… average? Interesting.
Spiritually I am a mess. My spirituality fights more than congress on a bad day and most of the time its as active as a pothead in a coma. I know I believe in something, God perhaps, but I don’t care enough to really figure it out. Its not going to change who I am. If there is a God, then he/she made me who I am. If there isn’t a God then I am simply just who I am. Neither way, I don’t see myself changing so what is the point. I was raised in the Church of the Brethren. A Christian church that doesn’t act like most of the rest. The church is liberal pascifists that eat a lot, play four-square and every once in a while they mention that Jesus fellow.
Mentally I am constantly all over the place. Bouncing between happy, sad, lost in a dream, distraut, patient, confused, complacent, anxious, angry, self-destructive, and caring at the turn of a screw. I am a paradox of myself. I contradict my own contradictions without coming off hypocritical. Top all that with a witty charm and self-depricating sense of humor. I view myself with much doubt and don’t really consider myself to be too talented. That comes from my siblings and my family. My mother was never too supportive in anything I sought to pursue. My brothers, served as examples to me. My oldest brother was full of ambition but had no clear dream or drive in any one thing… kinda trying to take it all in… but he never went to far with any of it because he had to try it all. My other older brother was full of talent but no ambition, no drive. So I grew up trying to immulate them but learning from their mistakes. I have always had big dreams all my own, but the talent, ambition and drive part came from me trying to take my Brothers’ examples to apply to my own dreams. What talent I appear to have, was not natural in the slightest, it came from years of practice, development… years of me trying to do art and write as well as my brother does. I will never reach his abilities.
My parents raised me to be both polite and honest. As I grow older I find it difficult to be both. It has been my experience that honesty is rarely nice, sweet or polite.
I have been told by some that I am an idealist. I spend large amounts of time lost in my head imagining how things could be in the future in my perfect world. I strive to get to that point and sometimes I acheive my goals despite the cost– risking financial security, friends and relationships to reach the goal I have created in my mind.
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I am me. 
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