How can you be happy when you flaunt all that you have to make yourself believe an unsatisfactory nothing. Nothing is that something that you use to pretend that you have some type of power over things in which you know nothing about. Nothing… That is what you have left and it is the saddest sight to any passerby, but mostly it is the sight that to you strikes down your will and closes all of your doors until you are left stranded in a lonely room.
Sometimes I think of you and I wonder who you are, why you are here, and what is the point of the empty fight you put up. Flaunting your trophies, objects that are meant to be human, you play your bittersweet game in the hopes of obtaining acceptance, but who are you truly? What do you love and how do you feel when you think of yourself, and can you love another all the same?
I often say that you cannot love another before you love yourself, but it seems you love that which others make you into. Is it not lonely, to rely on a love that lacks true affection, a love unmirrored by any other, a love that you can only give yourself? I never want to be the veteran that goes to war not for his country, but for his foolish honor, an honor that gives nothing from you to you.
So tell me, dear, where do you belong when you belittle yourself by belittling others? People are not trophies, people are not slices of metal that you can mold into trinkets that will weigh you down. Your idea of love is not love, but rather a selfish disdain of yourself that you refuse to release.