Who am I?

I still struggle with this question.  Granted, the first thing that comes to mind is my old standby: I am me.  I am the actions that I have taken thus far.  I may not be a great man, or even good, but I'm okay.  I am intelligent by most scales.  I am a six foot something, twenty one winters old.  I am a male human who is proficient with computerized technology and has an impressive if not stellar skill list.

Yet while these may define the physical manifestation of me, and may answer the question of WHAT I am... they are not me.  So who am I?  My mind is scattered, I am aware of this.  My heart is shattered, I am aware of this.  I am a hopeless romantic, a fool, a protector, a comedian, and a thinker.  Yet... It's never good enough.

What I want to be has changed drastically over the years.  First, I wanted to be the comedian, the jester.  Seeing the smiles on faces at a well timed joke, pun, or funny story made me happy, joyful even.

Then I wanted to be the philosopher.  The thinker.  I found the taste left in my mouth was bitter, and soon gave that up.

Now I want to be the physicist... defining the world in quantifiable measures, theorizing about the nature of the universe.

Once again, these don't define who I am, just what I do.

Ah well.  Existentialism doesn't suit me.  I am who I am.  I think therefore I am, I feel therefore I am alive.  I hurt, therefore I love.

On a side note: I want to shout something from a rooftop, yet I find the rooftops decidedly uninviting.  I'm tired of schoolyard antics and rumors.  That being said, my plan worked.  I found the two likely sources.  Suffice to say, I am disappointed yet unsurprised.