Do you care to know?

Standing at my door step, begging the question, begging for information,

No. 

You do not care.

But I do. I am at my door, I am begging the question, I have a crave for such information as

Me.

Myself.

And I ask myself because you cannot tell me. 

You, you being them. Them, them being anyone but me, rather the surroundings of me.

Though you cannot tell me, I look to you for me.

Me, myself is a reflection a mirror a spitting image of my surroundings, 

what is surronding me.

if this is the case then I am busy.

I run late.

I laugh easily in the face of what is not acceptable, but remeber this is me.

I work hard.

I push myself.

I refuse to give up.

This pleases me.

I please me, in the sense that what surrounds me what mirrors me pleases me.

Though they cannot tell me who I am, they do tell me that you are who you surround yourself with, no?

Did not you say that?

You, you being them. Them, them being anyone but me.

If myself were sad and confused and a brute I would surround myself with such to feel normal.

Me is the normal.

What is normally surrounding 

me.

You see I choose me. 

I choose my compnay.

I choose to accompany those who are or at least seem happy,

those ambitious

those kind

those present

those around me.

I am me.

But as a reflection of them, you see?