June Jhe That Which Declares Myself To BeAfter 'Songs of Myself' by Walt Whitman
I love myself, I sing songs of myself. What I am is what you are, and Who you want to be is who I am. I am what my mouth tells I am, I care not about good or bad, I speak at every hazard, with consent or without. I am all that nature purported myself to be, I am all that nature failed to perceive. And I am more than what you Can extrapolate from the existing world. I proudly exclaim, Therefore, I am!
But, there is this in me, I know not how to call it, Neither do I wish to address it. Shall I continue to speak of this monstrosity? Nameless, ambiguous, a nonentity, It dwells somewhere beneath my skin, And creeps upon my back To direct me! Just as an artist perfects his final masterpiece, Just as a conductor orchestrates symphony into a flawless flow, It, though undefined, tells me who I am. Am I all that I profess myself to be? It says, I am.
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