Taking myself to pieces. Spending some time alone, I start looking for my inner self. It takes time. And it takes courage. We all have our own shoes to walk in, and after a mile or so, we find ourselves carrying a heavy baggage of time, knowledge, hellos and goodbyes, things and feelings. If asked who I am, would I know what to answer? NO. Definitely not. Could this be because I have never asked myself that question?