‘What are you?’

“She is flowers, I am butterfly. What are you? You are abstract.”
Those three words- ‘You are abstract” are still ringing in my ear. So true, it defines me completely yet it lacks definition. I, my life, am abstract. Just like the splashes of colours on the canvas which is displayed to everyone, ultimately hides the true meaning of the blotches. Spectators can rarely distinguish between the first and the last splash on the canvas, yet they pretend to understand it in their own manner, thus drowning the real meaning and colour it with their own colours and meanings.
But why am I saying all these things? Why now? Behind my closed eyes faces and places flash in some weird fast paced sepia form movie, the voices are overlapping each finally becoming a blurred noise. I open my eyes to see….
In the morning, on my way to college I realise that I like the weather. The blazing sun and the cold wind, my two favourites elements of nature, together caressing my face. I like it, as it reminds me of the mountains. I mean the weather is the only thing about mountains I like, the only reason I would undergo the tedious job of travelling to the mountains, fighting nausea on the twisty roads. Such a beautiful day, I don’t want to waste by spending time attending lectures. So detour to my favourite library, and plan to finish a fascinating book. I usually read a book quite fast if its interesting, but for some reason I am finding it hard to concentrate. So I reach there, sit with my friend and end up spending time with her chatting over an array of topics. And next when I reach a level of consciousness, am sitting in a café across my friend, drinking my favourite coffee and discussing my love life, rather the lack of it thereof.
But who would have known that I will end up like this? Sitting here, I am blank. Am looking but am not able to take in anything.
After all these years of struggling, trying to find an ‘identity’, going through all the pain, it all boils down to those three words- ‘You are abstract.’