# Who might you be?



## Olly Buckle (Sep 5, 2008)

Who might you be?
  There is a common theme that runs through various threads to the effect that people might not be what they appear to be. There are all sorts of deep philosophical thoughts we could get into about the reasons people might dissemble, or others might care. BUT I was not going there. Instead, if you are/were not who you appear to be, then who are you or who might you be?
  For example;
  I might be called Francoise, a retired, eighty year old dominatrix who actually came from France originally. For years I kept two small flats opposite one another, occupying the whole floor of a block near Crystal Palace. In one I lived, making beans on toast for tea (I have been here a long time ), smoking fags and drinking coffee with my girls in the winter-comforting fug of the gas fire. 
   The flat opposite I had converted for work. In the small spare bedroom stood a teacher’s desk and a small wooden dunces stool, on the wall hung canes and here I saw my naughty boys, the main bedroom I had for my big babies, an outsize cot and huge fluffy toys. My piece de resistance was the front room, which had become my dungeon, here I had restraints and hoists of every sort. Everywhere here I was in charge and taking my revenge on the brothers and sisters who ran the Abbey school where I boarded.
  Since my retirement I have felt the need to create an adult figure such as I never knew in my abused childhood, perhaps to cleanse myself a little, thus was created Olly Buckle.

  Your go, I might be...


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## Olly Buckle (Sep 7, 2008)

I might be one of the painters working on the Forth bridge, as was my father before me. Each day I head off with my lunch and tools for the Firth and start work, people feel my job must always be the same, working on the same bridge day in day out. They don’t realise the variety, Some days we are in our little storm lashed work tent, short Scottish days lengthened by electric light, working on a level with the rail bed, the thunder of wind alleviated every so often by the even louder thunder of a passing train. Then again we might work over time on long, light evenings, high up on the topmost arch with the silvery northern light of hours long summer days reflecting, silver, from the Firth stretched out below, or purple and black from the scorched heather clad hills. Another day I am down on the concrete footing painting the huge girders where they descend into the earth, like the legs of some Colossus who spans the river. My lunch hour spent communing with some fisherman trying his luck with the rising salmon. People say “Your wrist must ache with brushing” but paint must come off as well as go on and there have been many hours of my life spent listening to the ting,ting ting of my small hammer and the rasp of wire brush removing the coats of yesteryear, I, clad in mask and goggles to protect me from the flying chips and poisoning by the lead they used to use, resembling some freshly landed alien. The world over men speak of me and my endless task, but rarely consider the variety. I would die suffocated in an office.


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## Olly Buckle (Sep 7, 2008)

I might be the man who checks your ticket at the gate
  I might be the enemy you especially hate
  You can not tell if old or young
  Near to home or furthest flung
  Male or female, in between?
  Something so strange you’ve never seen
  Anything like me before
  And hope to God you don’t meet more


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## Olly Buckle (Sep 14, 2008)

I might be a mad dwarf, with an eternally young face, who has spent the last eighty summers working for a week as ball boy on the tennis courts of my native Wimbledon before returning to my home on the wild common. Only then do I touch the human world so I am able to turn my wages into gold to add to my hoard.


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## The Backward OX (Sep 14, 2008)

I might be a yellow-tressed Far-darter. Then again, given the difficulties inherent in finding a cab in Hackney after eight pip emma, and as my master had been most insistent that fishing in the Loch was to be temporarily uninstated due to the vagaries of the breeding season of the Western beets, it seems altogether likely I shall once again be reduced to the status of a polisher of name plates up and down the Strand.

‘Ave a banana!


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## Olly Buckle (Sep 14, 2008)

Worse fates can wait on those who walk the Strand.

I had a sister Millie who would walk upon the Dilly
And me Mother was another on the Strand
Me Father flogs his a**e hole round the Elephant and Castle
We're the finest f***ing family in the land
As the old song would have it.

How did you know the street is called Strand so it's the Strand, not The Strand? Bet there's not a lot of people in your part of the world who wouldn't make that mistake.

Assuming that is your part of the world, maybe you were a black cab driver...


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## The Backward OX (Sep 14, 2008)

In my version, the third line ended “to the guards at Windsor Castle”. 

There’s other versions too – but of course sod’s law has kicked in and I disremember them.

And to your Strand question – the internet is a wonderful invention. I was in fact simultaneously cobbling together another piece of nonsense set in old London town and needed to do some research, and there you have it. Although, on reflection, I must say I don’t think I had ever previously seen it written The Strand. Sometimes you just know these things without knowing you know them.

Cab driver yes, but I am a dinki-di Aussie and have never left these sunny shores.


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## The Backward OX (Sep 14, 2008)

Remembered them!

If you’re ever down in London and you have no place to go
And you cannot find a spot to sit you down
For a penny on deposit you can hire a water closet
And a season ticket costs but half-a-crown.

and...

You can see there’s been some pushin’
By the c*m stains on the cushion
And the footprints on the sofa, upside down
But since I went and shagged your Enis
I’ve had trouble with my p*nis
And I wish I’d never seen your f*cking town.


The tune of course is Road to the Isles.


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## kupo (Sep 14, 2008)

If it weren't for rules and laws, threats of confinement and physical destruction, I might be someone else. My persona is meticulously constructed but it might not be able to handle the onslaught of the darkest side of human nature. It's ready to collapse at the slightest shift in pressure, like a toothpick skyscraper. I might be someone else, a twisted shade of my former self, if I bent to the will of my internal musings. I might be someone else who completely lacks empathy and concern, because it's just easier that way. I might be someone who takes to heart that it's easier to destroy than to create. I might be someone else who succumbs to the path of least resistance, though that path steers headlong into depravity. For now, the illusion holds. But, I might be...


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## Zensati (Sep 15, 2008)

I'm whatever you think I am...


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## Zensati (Sep 15, 2008)

I guess you could say I am the boogeyman..


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## alanmt (Sep 15, 2008)

I might be a yaoi-obsessed seventeen-year-old japanese girl who has compensated for her allegedly plain looks by mastering american english and pretending to be a seme online using photos jacked from some guy's myspace to live her romantic dreams out with sexy gay american uke dreamboats.


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## The Backward OX (Sep 15, 2008)

I might be an incredibly beautiful and highly promiscuous Yugoslavian blonde widow with an IQ of 145 and a Doctorate, who cannot help creaming her panties when in the company of almost anything with a penis, who has a combination of a little girl voice and a way of saying “Why don’t we . . .” that makes the hearer think he is the only man left on the planet, who shares tales of her sexual exploits with her two daughters who are both raging nymphomaniacs and who are teaching her some new tricks and how to add her videos of it all to YouTube and who, in an attempt to bring some balance to her overstressed lifestyle, has adopted the online persona of an irritable old git from the Australian outback with an annoying habit of poking fun at everything that moves by way of overly long and complex sentences.


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## The Backward OX (Sep 15, 2008)

oops


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## Wildcard (Sep 16, 2008)

I might be the master of these forums who on a daily basis views with much discomfort and distaste the many written excretions that pollute my site, whilst longing for the time to return when writers wrote for something other than just the sake of writing; suffering constantly as I feel myself being sucked into the abyss of mental recession which attempts to consume me every time I am forced to read another by-product of the boredom of one who has unrestricted access to a computer and the internet. As I read each piece I feel as one who is in a pit and is constantly defecated on time and again, whilst clinging to the notion that one day I would find solace in the words of one who takes pride in his work, releasing me forever from this dungeon. This Hell.


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## Wildcard (Sep 16, 2008)

I might be the juvenile delinquent who works in the kitchen at your local fast food restaurant, haphazardly mopping the floors before and after closing and spitting on your burgers while you stand at the counter with your ticket in hand oblivious to the fact.


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## Wildcard (Sep 16, 2008)

oops!


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## Damien. (Sep 16, 2008)

I might be a wonderbread truck driver who wears (and is proud of) a toupe. I constantly have to swerve not to hit teenagers who think the most original suicide involves my vehicle. I am seldom home, and I'm pretty sure my wife, who is a neat freak with nonmoving hair (due to hairspray) is sleeping with our overweight plumber, Mordecai.


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## The Backward OX (Sep 16, 2008)

Wildcard said:


> I might be the master of these forums who on a daily basis views with much discomfort and distaste the many written excretions that pollute my site, whilst longing for the time to return when writers wrote for something other than just the sake of writing; suffering constantly as I feel myself being sucked into the abyss of mental recession which attempts to consume me every time I am forced to read another by-product of the boredom of one who has unrestricted access to a computer and the internet. As I read each piece I feel as one who is in a pit and is constantly defecated on time and again, whilst clinging to the notion that one day I would find solace in the words of one who takes pride in his work, releasing me forever from this dungeon. This Hell.


Hahaha.

*This should be stickied in every forum on this site.*


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## Wildcard (Sep 17, 2008)

The Backward OX said:


> Hahaha.
> 
> *This should be stickied in every forum on this site.*



There's an idea


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## Sir Twilight (Sep 17, 2008)

I would definitely be a rash young mage (wizardly, not the chaotic sorcerer) that has trouble listening to anyone who wants him to do something differently. I would be the character that roasts himself with a ill-aimed fireball or zaps himself with his own lightning bolt. Of course, though I make mistakes, I would still be honored because I was the castle's main wizard's son/apprentice. So my brash actions would be excused. lol


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## Olly Buckle (Mar 25, 2017)

I might be a cartoon background character on 'Family guy'


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## MadMickyG (May 5, 2017)

I might be the well-known life-giver of old threads. I live in a small box under some stairs because it's warm and cosy and the people in the house don't know I'm here. Jacked into their internet, but using a little to post on strange forums about writing. When the internet is not working, I might be the one that creeps around the house when nobody's home, or dance around to music wearing nothing but socks because it feels great to let it swing!


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## LadyF (May 20, 2017)

I might be a tea infusion that you inhale thirsty for delight, I might be the first sip of anisette stealing between your lips, while we kiss, or the muffin, which you are trying to push whole in your mouth, the evaporation of the hot water in your bathtub, while you make love smelling of pine tips with an eternal spark in your heart. I might be your favorite underwear, the golden rays of the sun touching your brown curls, I might be...your wanton consort...having it all, with an enamored Deity between her legs...


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## midnightpoet (May 20, 2017)

I might be the lurker who haunts your dreams
whispering horror in your sleeping ear, 
a nightmare on fluttering wings;
as you awake to feathers on your bed
I'll possess your quaking screams.


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## Sebald (May 20, 2017)

Crikey.


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## midnightpoet (May 20, 2017)

Maybe I should have saved that for Halloween:hororr:


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## Sebald (May 20, 2017)

Seems like you'd been bottling that up, Midnight.


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## Olly Buckle (May 21, 2017)

I might be Peter Parker, or Bruce Wayne, or Clarke Kent, or any other ordinary fellow.


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## TuesdayEve (Sep 29, 2017)

I might be me today
I might be the one who makes sense
Or, I might be the one with all the ansewers
I might be invisible today
Or, maybe be the risk
I might be one who makes a difference
Or, I might be the one you save
I might be the one you've dreamed of
Or, maybe I am no one today


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## C.Gholy (Oct 3, 2017)

I might be the reason you rub at night. 
I might be the reason your coffee went cold.

I might be a pussycat under the sheets. 
I might be a werewolf ripping your guts. 

I might be the early bird. 
I might be the night owl.


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## TuesdayEve (Oct 20, 2017)

I might be girl at the check out counter having a bad day
I might be thinking of dinner tonite, husband and kids 
oh and the dog ran away
I might be antisapating the clock to lucky strike at eight
my shift will be over I'm outta here, I'm a thoughbred at the gate
Two more hours forty-three mins , I can feel the strain
I might be thinking of just walking out meanwhile 
here's your change


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## Birdy (Oct 30, 2017)

I might be the girl blessed with unique looks
who doesn't see her true image. 
I might be well practiced at impulse control, 
to the point that I don't even think about things that are deemed addictive and taboo. 
I might be someone who is very careful with her physique, as it is important in my line of work. 
I might be a sweater model.


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## midnightpoet (Oct 30, 2017)

I might be the monster
under your bed
that keeps you awake;
enough said.


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## Birdy (Oct 31, 2017)

I might be a wing walker on a an airplane whose door blew off and sucked me out. I hang on no matter what.


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## Olly Buckle (Nov 1, 2017)

I might be the pantomime character 'Behind You'.


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## Birb (Nov 13, 2017)

I might be something that everyone fears and dreads, or something everybody loves and wants. I could be good or bad, sad or happy. I could be anything, really. We all could, but that's only if we want to be.


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## Olly Buckle (Nov 14, 2017)

I might be a search engine that has 'morphed' sufficiently to leave comments.


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## TuesdayEve (Nov 16, 2017)

I might be a conciousness living in the Matrix believing the real is unreal


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## BigBagOfBasmatiRice (Jul 6, 2020)

I might be you.
You might be me.
(Ah, nah that's too serious...)
Ah, heck it, I might be a ninja.


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## Olly Buckle (Jul 8, 2020)

I might be an elderly teacher, single and immersed in my subject, but looking for an alternative life that I must keep secret to avoid the ridicule of all those pesky kids.


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## NajaNoir (Dec 3, 2021)

I might be a woman who exited her simulation too soon. Just to spend eternity living as a creature in a bog. I cannot see, the mist is too thick. I cannot leave, for the weights are holding me down. All I can do is close my eyes and cherish the memories of days that never were.


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## TuesdayEve (Dec 6, 2021)

I might be hunger. Twisting and cramping your gut. I’ll make your hands shake, your knees buckle and if you don’t serve me, I’ll steal your attention. You can’t run from me or hide, I’ll follow and pursue you, finally consume you, until thought becomes stupor and blank    shrouds your eyes.


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## Deleted member 66512 (Dec 7, 2021)

I might be the born loser, who always seems to find a way to win.


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## VRanger (Dec 8, 2021)

I might be your best friend. Then again ...


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## Deleted member 66515 (Dec 8, 2021)

I might be that guy you recognize, but insecurity, ego,and pride, keeps you from calling out to me.


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## Bloggsworth (Dec 8, 2021)

I spent my whole working life waiting to be found out. I started as a mechanic on sports and racing cars, then spent about 40 years designing stuff with no qualification higher than "O" Level Art...


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## Deleted member 66512 (Dec 11, 2021)

I might be the right person, when everything else is wrong.


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