The cracks in her palms told a lifetime of stories.
The bags under her eyes spoke of a world of worry.

You could say she was weak, but she grew in multitudes when it came to her inner voice.

That little thing in the back of your mind, that tells you what's right and wrong? She had a difficult relationship with that.

She...I mean...I was confrontational. I was naive, younger than I am now, sadder than I am now. Angry at the world in a way no child ever should be.

I grew, changed, back tracked, and fast forwarded, through some of the best and worst times of my life. All for what?

Money? Stability? Power?

I wasted a lifetime wanting things I never bothered to wonder why I wanted them in the first place.

What does money really buy you once you've spent it all on worthless trinkets?

What's stability with no one to share it with?

What's power but a faint illusion of control?

She...I mean I...have spent entire eternity in denial....

and for what...happiness?

I couldn't tell you what happiness was if it caressed me with one hand and beat me with the other.

A message to my former self....stop, smell the ******* roses before you let them wither.

Love yourself before you drive your mind to insanity.

Don't give up the rest of your life to a cause that's not worth fighting for...for a dream..you don't believe in.

Let me give you some hard advice kid.

Capitalism is a regime, control is an illusion, and money is the Devil's play thing.

A message to my former self.

Stop.

While you still can.