Stories, Rhymes and Brain fallout.

  Authenticity Paradox. A man once asked me, “Who are you?” Back then, I couldn’t answer him. I was in India, searching for myself and trying to figure out who I really was. Later, I realised the real me was schizophrenic. So even now, it depends on how I feel. That last part was a joke, by the way. Can you picture a spiritual person with schizophrenia, always searching for themselves? That would be a quest with no end. Anyway, moving on. I often wonder who I really am. I don’t have many real friends—maybe none—and I never feel comfortable in large groups of people who aren’t me. What does it even mean to be ‘authentic’? Once you start thinking about it, you can’t really be it. Chasing authenticity is like searching for the holy grail—does it even exist? If you read too many books or watch too many YouTube gurus talk about authenticity, you end up so focused on it that it just turns into a kind of ‘cosplay’. This is how I act when I’m trying to be authentic… Humans are funny. The b...