As a social species, we are forced to self-fictionalise, to self-generalise, to self-condense. We explain who we are succinctly. It helps to form a connection with others, but also with ourselves. We see ourselves as a community of traits, of people who belong with a group of similar people. Of people who belong.

I’m the sort of person who can’t get up early. I’m the sort of person who bloats after eating. I’m the sort of person who cries at movies. I’m the sort of person who can’t get through the day without coffee. I’m the sort of person who always forgets names. I’m the sort of person who buries my head in the sand. I’m the sort of person who can’t go to sleep on an argument. I’m the sort of person who has to have lots of toilet roll in the house at all times. I’m the sort of person who won’t talk about my emotions.

I’m the sort of person who can’t let an argument go. Who loves driving at night. Who repeats what other people say in order to ingratiate. Who has to eat breakfast. Who doesn’t read fiction. Who needs to be outside in the sunshine. Who just can’t sleep through the night. Who reads a book and then immediately forgets everything about it. Who looks at the time and then can’t remember what it was. I’m the sort of person who holds a grudge. I’m the sort of person who has to talk it out.

I’m the sort of person who the more I work, the more I want to work. I’m the sort of person who the less time I have, the more I get done. The sort of person who has to have everything tidy. Who can’t sit still. Who gets anxious. Who loves to host. Who trips over everything. Who has to get up as soon as I’m awake. Who can’t resist dessert. Who loves nights in. Who loves to dance. Who can’t stand horror films. Who doesn’t care what people think.

We’re the sort of people who get distracted easily. We’re the sort of people who can’t resist a bargain. We’re the sort of people who can’t eat just one crisp. We’re the sort of people who love dogs. We’re the sort of people who love lie ins. Who wish they had the time and money to travel more. Wish they spoke another language. Wish they could give more to charity. We’re the sort of people who are worried about our future. Who are worried about the future of our planet.

We’re the sort of people who generalise and demonise. We’re the sort of people who succeed and fail. We’re the sort of people who eulogise and empathise. We’re the sort of people who stumble and fall. We’re the sort of people who help if we can. We’re the sort of people who could do more. We’re the sort of people who laugh. We’re the sort of people who cry. We’re the sort of people who believe. We’re the sort of people who try.

*

A version of this post was sent by email on the 2nd April 2017 as part of Internet Care Package.

ICP is a weekly email that includes memoir-ish snippets like the one above, links to great articles and dog memes. This blog is a select archive of those emails. Subscribe to get them right in your inbox.

Like this? Share to Facebook | Tweet | Email link

Want to help me make more things? Follow me on Instagram | Buy me a coffee | Buy my play

*