What if the world was not lonely?

Authentic self.

To be, or not to be, that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

(me thinks it best to occupy the mind with victory)

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

(and how things always work out in the end)

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

(live in peace and trust the process, the casualties are less)

And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep,

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to...

(heartache is winter to my soul, which is followed by spring)

From Winter into Spring
by
Kleoniki Vanos

When this quote, from Shakespeare's Hamlet, ran through my mind, my

consciousness began to place tiny pieces of authentic self together. 

Am I forged together by external influences and circumstances, which were

then followed by inner (distorted/accurate?) processes and reactions to them?

                                                     OR

Am I the authentic me that I was created to be despite the untruths?