what we relate ourselves with. the person that we are. the person we become. and the person we will always be. without our identity we are nothing. its what makes us who we are.
I identify with a lot of people.
I identify with my roomate. Part of me wants to stay in my room and play wow all day too.
I identify with my parents. I wouldn’t want my son to be smoking pot either.
I identify with my teachers. I’d be pissed if someone walked into my class late.
I identify myself with so many things but mostly as a Redhead. Redheadedness is my identity and I wear my red hair so proudly I can’t even stand it sometimes. I think my red hair gives me a big ego. But I think I deserve my big ego. My red hair rocks.
She stared at the display reading over the information one more time. She couldn’t believe it. She refused to believe it. He had to be teasing her, getting her back for the prank she had pulled earlier that week.
There was no way her boyfriend was the thief that had taken her research.
who is what is am I who are you where did u come from what is purpose yours mine ours is there a point a stupid jon cusack movie with a rip off 6th sense wanna bee ending. dont tell me they were all in his head thats such a cop out you might as well have him in wake up in a bed and say it was all a dream
Identity. An ordinary word to most people. But for me it’s a loaded one, a complex one…because I don’t feel I have one most days.
I’m not a normal, regular person, if there even is such a thing anymore. I question everything about my life and agonize over the tiniest decisions, like do I want to watch TV or just go on my laptop, or should I do both? I question the things that don’t matter because I can’t face what does matter.
My cousin. My future. My health. My job. The cold world that I used to think could be bright if I only wanted it to be. I still believe that sometimes. But I’m stuck on a rollercoaster of good days and bad days, and God I just wish it would stop.
I think the worst part of this is that I keep blaming my cousin…but I can’t be sure that that’s really the cause. But I’ll never know. And at times I’m grateful for that, because I’d rather be messed up for a reason than be messed up and not know why.
I’ve considered doing what he did. Not exactly, of course, because A) I could never hang myself, and B) I could never kill myself in a freaking park where kids could find me.
I’m selfish, but I’m not that selfish.
I have so much to look forward to in my life, but it doesn’t feel like I do.
I feel old most days. Damaged. Worn out. I’m only 19 and sometimes I just want to die.
But I live.
Identity. An ordinary word to most people. But for me it’s a loaded one, a complex one…because I don’t feel I have one most days.
I’m not a normal, regular person, if there even is such a thing anymore. I question everything about my life and agonize over the tiniest decisions, like do I want to watch TV or just go on my laptop, or should I do both? I question the things that don’t matter because I can’t face what does matter.
My cousin. My future. My health. My job. The cold world that I used to think could be bright if I only wanted it to be. I still believe that sometimes. But I’m stuck on a rollercoaster of good days and bad days, and God I just wish it would stop.
I think the worst part of this is that I keep blaming my cousin…but I can’t be sure that that’s really the cause. But I’ll never know. And at times I’m grateful for that, because I’d rather be messed up for a reason than be messed up and not know why.
I’ve considered doing what he did. Not exactly, of course, because A) I could never hang myself, and B) I could never kill myself in a freaking park where kids could find me.
I’m selfish, but I’m not that selfish.
I have so much to look forward to in my life, but it doesn’t feel like I do.
I feel old most days. Damaged. Worn out. I’m only 19 and sometimes I just want to die.
Who am I? Am I a mother with a career on the side? Or am I a careerwoman who happens to be a mother? I know I can be both. But can I achieve a balance?
I want to bake pies. I want to write strategies. I want to bathe my baby on my own, without the nanny’s help. I want the prestige of being a woman on top.
I should give myself a break. It’s my first day back at work after a long maternity leave after all.
I don’t even know my identity; who the hell am I? I have so many aliases I could be a criminal Mrs. blanky blank married and divorced to you know who . They all have Identies why don;t I
There is a lot of identity theft in this world I suppose. At least that’s what I’m told. Told by commercials and…well mostly commercials. It still doesn’t seem like a very real threat though, even though if I just take a second to think about it there’s got to be a real chance of it happening to anyone.
I was certain that she had taken something from me that didn’t belong to her. it wasn’t just that she copied my clothes, my hair, my stupid glasses. It was that she used my words and mannerisms and put it on full display, for everyone and for ME to see.
maybe i have lost who i am. no, that’s a lie. in fact, i’m tired of identifying myself by who i’m with, or who i’m lacking. my identity is neither of those things. instead, it is who i love, and what i love, and of all things…what makes me happy. these things are who i am. my thoughts are what i’m made of.
We are encumbered by our identity. Who we think we are and what we think we should be weighs us down. Then, when we add that weight to the shoulders of our children, we place on them all of the expectations for ourselves that we don’t meet up to. Our identity is too precious to let go of. But in fact, that is the very thing we need to let go of in order to let our kids have their own.
I think everyone wants to have their own personal identity, but no one really does, you know? If we’re all overlapping, how can you even have an identity. I don’t know who I am. Do you know who you are? Can you even wrap your mind around having set qualities that separate you and give you… an identity? I can’t.
gender identity. sexual identity. Who am I, anyway? Why do I think about sex all the time, sheesh. Sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex oh goodness, see where this has led me?
hope i find my identity real soon and in north carolina too. i want to know who i am and sometimes i think i know who i am but other times i lose focus. but i just think its normal. i hope my identity is never stolen either. haha that would suck balls.
Identity is amazing. It is a unique-ness associated with everyone. It is beautiful as no one is the same unless they want to be. And you shouldn’t want to be like everyone else. Be your own person. That’s what you should want to be: unique. Why bother following trends and fashion when you can express yourself the way you want to.
ability to define who you are for others. sense of security.alot of false identies people conjour to make themselves seem better and to fit the status quo
Identity is who you are. It is everything about you, whether you know your own identity or not. Sometimes I worry that my own identity is unbeknownst to even me. I worry that people see a me that is not who I think I am. It’s a frightening concept. Who are you?
Is you and me. But we are not the same. It’s your own personal name. But it’s so much more, it’s the combination of everything you’ve ever lived and liked and loved. The culmination of every moment you’ve ever been a part of.
Her identity was a secret, she knes that eand everyone else jthought she was just weird. She was cautions and proud, so they didn’t care. but tshe did. And she had to stop them from knowing. If they knew, she was doomed. If one person found out, it would spread like wildfire, and she would be as good as dead. Oh god, it was a horrible secret, but she had to keep it.
She looked down at the white, plastic card in her hand. Her access to the bus, to libraries, discounts for shows, and meal points all on this thin card. She squinted her eyes and peered closer at the small picture in the right hand corner. She turned to her friend. “If this is what I really look like, please shoot me.”
who gave me my identity? do I have an identity? am I really an individual in this world, or am i just another face in the crowd. When you see me do you see uniqueness?
i have no idea who i really want to be
or what i really want to do
all i know is that wherever i end up
and whoever i become,
i want to spend the night asleep
dreaming in your arms.
your identity is you. it is your name it is your personality it is your individuality. When you hear identity what do you think of? Do you have an identity really? Was your identity given to you at birth or did you create it? Interesting thought.
ila
what we relate ourselves with. the person that we are. the person we become. and the person we will always be. without our identity we are nothing. its what makes us who we are.
to be yourself to know you its you who you think you are what other people think of you something that is only and intrinsically your own.
I identify with a lot of people.
I identify with my roomate. Part of me wants to stay in my room and play wow all day too.
I identify with my parents. I wouldn’t want my son to be smoking pot either.
I identify with my teachers. I’d be pissed if someone walked into my class late.
I identify myself with so many things but mostly as a Redhead. Redheadedness is my identity and I wear my red hair so proudly I can’t even stand it sometimes. I think my red hair gives me a big ego. But I think I deserve my big ego. My red hair rocks.
She stared at the display reading over the information one more time. She couldn’t believe it. She refused to believe it. He had to be teasing her, getting her back for the prank she had pulled earlier that week.
There was no way her boyfriend was the thief that had taken her research.
who is what is am I who are you where did u come from what is purpose yours mine ours is there a point a stupid jon cusack movie with a rip off 6th sense wanna bee ending. dont tell me they were all in his head thats such a cop out you might as well have him in wake up in a bed and say it was all a dream
Identity. An ordinary word to most people. But for me it’s a loaded one, a complex one…because I don’t feel I have one most days.
I’m not a normal, regular person, if there even is such a thing anymore. I question everything about my life and agonize over the tiniest decisions, like do I want to watch TV or just go on my laptop, or should I do both? I question the things that don’t matter because I can’t face what does matter.
My cousin. My future. My health. My job. The cold world that I used to think could be bright if I only wanted it to be. I still believe that sometimes. But I’m stuck on a rollercoaster of good days and bad days, and God I just wish it would stop.
I think the worst part of this is that I keep blaming my cousin…but I can’t be sure that that’s really the cause. But I’ll never know. And at times I’m grateful for that, because I’d rather be messed up for a reason than be messed up and not know why.
I’ve considered doing what he did. Not exactly, of course, because A) I could never hang myself, and B) I could never kill myself in a freaking park where kids could find me.
I’m selfish, but I’m not that selfish.
I have so much to look forward to in my life, but it doesn’t feel like I do.
I feel old most days. Damaged. Worn out. I’m only 19 and sometimes I just want to die.
But I live.
Identity. An ordinary word to most people. But for me it’s a loaded one, a complex one…because I don’t feel I have one most days.
I’m not a normal, regular person, if there even is such a thing anymore. I question everything about my life and agonize over the tiniest decisions, like do I want to watch TV or just go on my laptop, or should I do both? I question the things that don’t matter because I can’t face what does matter.
My cousin. My future. My health. My job. The cold world that I used to think could be bright if I only wanted it to be. I still believe that sometimes. But I’m stuck on a rollercoaster of good days and bad days, and God I just wish it would stop.
I think the worst part of this is that I keep blaming my cousin…but I can’t be sure that that’s really the cause. But I’ll never know. And at times I’m grateful for that, because I’d rather be messed up for a reason than be messed up and not know why.
I’ve considered doing what he did. Not exactly, of course, because A) I could never hang myself, and B) I could never kill myself in a freaking park where kids could find me.
I’m selfish, but I’m not that selfish.
I have so much to look forward to in my life, but it doesn’t feel like I do.
I feel old most days. Damaged. Worn out. I’m only 19 and sometimes I just want to die.
But I live.
I just want to matter.
Who am I? Am I a mother with a career on the side? Or am I a careerwoman who happens to be a mother? I know I can be both. But can I achieve a balance?
I want to bake pies. I want to write strategies. I want to bathe my baby on my own, without the nanny’s help. I want the prestige of being a woman on top.
I should give myself a break. It’s my first day back at work after a long maternity leave after all.
I don’t even know my identity; who the hell am I? I have so many aliases I could be a criminal Mrs. blanky blank married and divorced to you know who . They all have Identies why don;t I
Identity is found in many different things… music, art, passions, accomplishments, friends, work, school, & companions
to choose an identity.
to label yourself.
it’s hard not to, when everything you use to describe yourself defines you in some way.
alone. creative. individual.
olivia.
There is a lot of identity theft in this world I suppose. At least that’s what I’m told. Told by commercials and…well mostly commercials. It still doesn’t seem like a very real threat though, even though if I just take a second to think about it there’s got to be a real chance of it happening to anyone.
your difference
I don’t have an identity. I don’t know who I am. I feel I am different around different people. How do I find out who I am?
I was certain that she had taken something from me that didn’t belong to her. it wasn’t just that she copied my clothes, my hair, my stupid glasses. It was that she used my words and mannerisms and put it on full display, for everyone and for ME to see.
maybe i have lost who i am. no, that’s a lie. in fact, i’m tired of identifying myself by who i’m with, or who i’m lacking. my identity is neither of those things. instead, it is who i love, and what i love, and of all things…what makes me happy. these things are who i am. my thoughts are what i’m made of.
Something I’ve begun to lose track of
Can you please identify what the problem is that you are having sir?
Yes I cannot get on the internet…
Well all you have to do is go into the kitchen and unplug your refrigerator
Are you sure that will work?
Yes sir, I am quite positive you will get online in no time if you simple unplug your fridge.
Ok thank you
We are encumbered by our identity. Who we think we are and what we think we should be weighs us down. Then, when we add that weight to the shoulders of our children, we place on them all of the expectations for ourselves that we don’t meet up to. Our identity is too precious to let go of. But in fact, that is the very thing we need to let go of in order to let our kids have their own.
Information technology use by terrorist
I think everyone wants to have their own personal identity, but no one really does, you know? If we’re all overlapping, how can you even have an identity. I don’t know who I am. Do you know who you are? Can you even wrap your mind around having set qualities that separate you and give you… an identity? I can’t.
she did every thing to hide her true identity, and she had the looks to do it well, so much well that she herself will forget it….
gender identity. sexual identity. Who am I, anyway? Why do I think about sex all the time, sheesh. Sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex oh goodness, see where this has led me?
hope i find my identity real soon and in north carolina too. i want to know who i am and sometimes i think i know who i am but other times i lose focus. but i just think its normal. i hope my identity is never stolen either. haha that would suck balls.
it is mother fucking thin, what is identity? it is nothing something we created. and die for. bulshitt. I do not like this concetpt
Identity is amazing. It is a unique-ness associated with everyone. It is beautiful as no one is the same unless they want to be. And you shouldn’t want to be like everyone else. Be your own person. That’s what you should want to be: unique. Why bother following trends and fashion when you can express yourself the way you want to.
What is identity? Is it something that we individually come up with? Or is it instead based on other people’s perceptions of us.
ability to define who you are for others. sense of security.alot of false identies people conjour to make themselves seem better and to fit the status quo
Identity is who you are. It is everything about you, whether you know your own identity or not. Sometimes I worry that my own identity is unbeknownst to even me. I worry that people see a me that is not who I think I am. It’s a frightening concept. Who are you?
Is you and me. But we are not the same. It’s your own personal name. But it’s so much more, it’s the combination of everything you’ve ever lived and liked and loved. The culmination of every moment you’ve ever been a part of.
Her identity was a secret, she knes that eand everyone else jthought she was just weird. She was cautions and proud, so they didn’t care. but tshe did. And she had to stop them from knowing. If they knew, she was doomed. If one person found out, it would spread like wildfire, and she would be as good as dead. Oh god, it was a horrible secret, but she had to keep it.
The person I feel I am when no others are around me. I feel safe, complete and whole. Its my entirety mad entirely up of my individual parts.
I’m lost.
But that is okay.
I’m ready to start over, anyway.
crisis
She looked down at the white, plastic card in her hand. Her access to the bus, to libraries, discounts for shows, and meal points all on this thin card. She squinted her eyes and peered closer at the small picture in the right hand corner. She turned to her friend. “If this is what I really look like, please shoot me.”
who gave me my identity? do I have an identity? am I really an individual in this world, or am i just another face in the crowd. When you see me do you see uniqueness?
i have no idea who i really want to be
or what i really want to do
all i know is that wherever i end up
and whoever i become,
i want to spend the night asleep
dreaming in your arms.
your identity is you. it is your name it is your personality it is your individuality. When you hear identity what do you think of? Do you have an identity really? Was your identity given to you at birth or did you create it? Interesting thought.
Identity is one’s self, what someone believes who he or she is.
My identity is different from how other people perceive me. I see myself as a creative, outgoing being, but not everyone shares that thought.
I will need to express myself more, so people can realize who my true self is.