Sometimes it’s easy to lose yourself. There’s a lot going on inside and out, and it’s hard to keep it all straight. It’s hard to define it. When I struggle with identity, I attempt to draw myself back into that which I feel makes me who I am. Or who I want to be, anyway. Lately, I’ve been reading Proust. I got my bike today and I rode around for about 45 minutes. I rode backwards in a complete circle about twice. I also just watched The Life Aquatic. These things aren’t me. But they help.