The Problem with Labels

Every warning I could give you becomes inaccurate by morning.

A few days ago, someone asked me,

“If I were forced to wear a warning label, what would it say?”

And I ran all the possible answers through my head.

Would it read,

Approach with caution.

You are talking to a highly sensitive, intuitive writer who might just use everything you say in a write-up.

Or would it say,

Beware of self-destruction.

She just drank an alarming amount of coffee in two minutes and searched the daily caffeine limit only to learn that she might die.

(Don’t worry. She is probably just a little jittery.)

Will it say,

A fluctuating mind in progress.

Because she has the personality of every character from every book she has ever read, which causes severe mood swings.

Or will it come with a tag sign that says:

Trespassers will be shot, and survivors will be shot again.

Please maintain a six-metre distance for your safety and mental well-being.

But even if my label read

Broke. Trying. Lost. Insensitive.

it wouldn’t come as a jaw-dropper since that’s what my high school friends associate with me.

I guess what I am saying is,

I have been so many different versions of myself lately,

that somewhere between becoming and unbecoming,

I lost track of who I really am.