The below served as a 500 piece entrance into a journalist apprenticeship. I think it gives the most adequate description off myself. Enjoy: There’s a point in our lives when we are often plagued by the question of our individuality, a desire to understand our identity, an aspiration to comfort ourselves with the knowledge that we are unlike those around us, a question that is quite simply put as, “How I know I am me?” Usually, during these times of brooding, our answers are sought in religious verse, or inspirational prose. We look to those wiser and compare the paths that we have taken, with those that have walked it before us. A process that could take days, months, sometimes years, sometimes seven years, in Tibet...For me, the route to understanding this question is less complex. There is no need for tedious research or long spiritual talks. I don’t need Tony Robins or John Maxwell. “The Secret” provides little aid to understanding my destiny and shaping my future...as I am reminded daily of my purpose on this stage and sometimes have to roll my eyes, gaze up at the heavens with an exasperate sigh and plead for relief from the cosmic jokes that the Powers that Be seem to have at my expense.Maybe it should have been glaringly obvious to me when, as a child, I acquired a genuine Harry Potter-looking scar on my forehead from running into a door frame… twice; or a few years later when I jammed my head between the porch railings at my grandmother’s house. Whenever the defining moment of this realisation was, I have, through my varying unfortunate and highly embarrassing encounters, come to grasp that the sole purpose of my existence is to be the poster child of Murphy’s Law.Besides being graced with the celestial gifts of lumbering height and being extremely clumsy, my repertoire of mishaps have not been prejudiced or selective in their manifestations. There has been no holy ground that has kept me safe from the abrasiveness of my calamity – a detail corroborated when, as an altar-boy, I scorched my hair whilst lowering my head in prayer. Nor have I been safe in the confines of my office, as on the day of a meeting with directors, my zipper breaks and yes… I was going ‘commando’.Although, looking back at some of these calamities, I am amazingly grateful for the path that I have found myself on. My hallowed humiliation has offered me much to be thankful about. And upon closer inspection, the motives of such demeanours/choices/episodes seem less likely to be a cosmic giggle but rather a consecrated destiny that has shaped and continues to mould me into the diverse, articulate and self persevering individual that I am today. The anecdotal road to which I am seemingly duped, is more of a sacred scroll that provides a hands on account of experiences to those around me, as I have walked the determined trail; and whilst adding much reason to laugh, I am sure that my ability to see myself in a way, unlike that of those around me, is the defining dynamic, that allows me to know that I am me.