I remember how I wanted to be that girl. That girl that got all the attention and hated by women. I wanted the look of perfection. But what I got instead was perpetual rejection. I switched roles a lot, whatever seemed suitable at that time. Conformity was a normality, but on the inside I was stricken deep and hurting painfully on the inside with frivolity. I wasn’t alive but I was dying. And the tears of my soul could not stop crying. I had grown into someone I did not recognize. Masked by deception. Disguised in a bunch of lies. Drawing closer, knocking on the door of my inevitable demise. I was consumed in confusion. My thoughts of me more specifically my identity was a fusion of cultural hype and human-bred malpractices. And boy was I losing bad! World advertisement fed my unhealthy habits. Like a bandit I stole away every superficial piece, that could fill this deep abyss of a pit that could substitute this unmistakable void… the pride of the eyes and the lust of the flesh…cause me to plunge myself face forward into a ditch. Or more like mud, wallowing around in my vomit of mess. I just kept digressing… and digressing…falling…like light speed…down to my knees…LOST.