People, especially those in high school, constantly seek for a definition of themselves. Everyone--at some point in their lives--will seek for a definite identity because it is expected of them as functional members of society. This leads me to question today’s world and with what principles our civilization was founded upon, because such things should not be expected of humans. For me, the hardest assignments are ones that ask for my personality, like one that demands I define myself in three words or less. “It’s simple,” they say, but as a person with no set identity, the only three words I can scribble are “I don’t know.”

When I ask my friends to define me, they say: “You’re very quiet and introverted,” or “You’re the loudest and most chaotic person I’ve ever met.” There is no in between, but I will agree with both of them and respond with a dull “Yeah.” But what exactly am I? And who am I to judge, even if it is for myself?

In a way, I am a pot of soup: put in the desired ingredients and end with a smooth, well-blended mixture of, well, everything. My ingredients consist of various things, from fictional characters to even objects. An interest I have will become my personality, and anything interesting that comes into my attention will inevitably become a role model for me. I will idolize it so much that a part of it becomes a part of me. And because my fixations unexpectedly jump from character to thing, so does my personality, leaving me with a variety of traits that, more often than not, contradict each other.

While I did state that I was a pot of soup, there is an undeniable difference between us. Soups get a taste test to make sure that they are well-qualified for the customers. I do not receive such opportunities. There are no warning labels that let me know if I am acceptable or not. People either “fit in” or are viewed as outcasts in the society, and that is what I fear most about this world. “You know him? He’s so noisy and obnoxious.” “She thinks she’s so good at this… how self-absorbed can you get?” Even people with definite traits are rejected, so how will society view an indefinite person? An incomplete one with no sense of self?

I am aware of my abilities and what I can and cannot do. The way certain people see me is, by no means, unreasonable. I am conscious of my likes and dislikes, and why I do or want to do certain things. However, if I am asked to describe myself in one way, in no parallel universe will I be able to provide a sufficient answer. Being quite self-aware in many aspects, I fully acknowledge the fact that if the characters and objects that craft who I am are taken away, all that will be left is a hollow human being, as empty and depersonalized as an iPhone at factory settings.

In math, the term “undefined” can be represented as an asymptote. Asymptotes are graphical entities that allow functions to get closer to a certain number but never quite reach it. At vertical asymptotes, the function’s x-value is undefined, unmeasurable to infinity. Perhaps that is all I am, and all I ever will be: continuously reaching for a definition, and getting closer every time, but never quite arriving at it. Never knowing myself to the fullest, never being a “complete” human being, even as I approach infinity.