Ay yi yi: I, I, I
Posted on November 10, 2010
Filed under R9
Posted by I. I posted this. I am Margrette Kuhrt.
There. I opened the Word document to write this assignment. I did it. It matters that I opened this blank document because I told you about it. Otherwise it would have just quietly happened just like you just quietly happened to stumble across this self-important bit of writing. Or you probably didn’t stumble across it. You’re probably in my class. You’re doing this assignment, too. You’re writing about I, too. Not my I but your I. Not writing but typing. If I was writing I could make myself less important; I could use a lowercase I. But I’m typing. My computer thinks I’m so important that it reminds me every time I forget to capitalize myself. My I.
Fact: Because you started reading this and have read this far you feel like you have to finish reading what I have to write. If you stop now then why did you even start? What if I have something brilliant to say? (I do, to me, I suppose, but you will only find out if you continue to read). So you do. You read about I, about me, about yours truly, numero uno, the big kahuna, yo, je (or j’ if your verb starts with a vowel). Whatever I type, you read.
I get nervous about being the I that I am now. What if down the road I turn out to be more important than I am now? (Not down the road as in down the street- a fraternity section lives in the literal down-the-road location. I don’t want to turn out to be suddenly more important there). People could look up to I, to me. They would want to know how I am who I am. They might quietly happen to stumble across this.
Fact: If in fact you aren’t reading this anymore does it exist? Like when a tree falls in a forest and no one hears it blah, blah, blah. Maybe I am doing this assignment only for it to cease to be. I will look at it every once in a while to make sure that doesn’t happen. That this wasn’t a waste of time.
I don’t have to waste your time and warn you that this isn’t a memoir. I didn’t really tell you anything. You still don’t know much about I. Except that I am in a class with some other Is. Fact check me. Checkmate- I win; I am telling the truth. I am in a class with some other Is. Check, mate. You’ll see. I am right. I am writing.
But I’m not anymore. I’m done.
I’ll be back to confirm the existence of this moment of my I later, so don’t trouble yourself.