pretentiousness

was just contemplating about life in general in the shower:

replayed in the recesses of my head things & topics of conversations over the past few days, & one word that stood out like a sore thumb was "pretentiousness"

the notion of "pretentiousness" has been a frequent friend in "didactic" conversations; often we've heard and even participated in boxing up a particular person in that category on the pretext of something she/he has done - the irony being we become part of the monster we condemn that person to be

but beyond that level of pretentiousness comes the question of self-identity

today i've been hit hard by that epiphany that i actually do not really know who i am, or what i like  

by reevaluating the choices that i've made, the preferences that i have accustomed myself to liking, it suddenly hit me like an impudent wave that the continuous creation of self is shaped by influences that are not borne out of one's own psyche, and that we build our identity - that is, our preferences that shape who we are, on striving to be someone else that fits our ideals

do i like reading because it's visceral, because it's innate? or do i like reading because i aspire to be an ideal, because i aspire to one day be able to write a tiny fraction of what plath was capable of doing (for example)

is my increasing passion for the local music scene borne out of my inherent inclination towards local products, or because 1. my scope of influences have shaped me thus 2. support for the local music scene is unconventional and i aspire to be unconventional

we've (or for fear of oversimplification - i've) built the fundamentals of the components of "me" on the ideals, on the backbones of others

so who am i?
who are you? at the core?

it frightens me because i really don't know who i'll be without my environment
that makes me pretentious, doesn't it? i am constantly pretending to be someone else higher/cooler/smarter etc that i become that fusion of strivings

strip me to the core & i am actually nobody in a vacuous, physical body titled "denise"
& that scares the hell out of me

(also ricocheting between disgust for consumerism & the need to look & feel attractive, which is quite a terrible place to be at)