What is my aim, why am I living this life?
Sometimes I question the meaning of this existence
It burns like the tip of a survival knife
With some unusual sparks of brilliance
I believe that it is up to us to find meaning
Some believe that life is about merely reproducing, others about improving
For some, pleasure is the ultimate evil, and for others, pleasure is a reason to live
I find my meaning within those brief moments, where the clouds of the world fade away and a beautiful ray of light shines
When I say my aim, I could say that I want to graduate school, get into a great college
Build a muscular body, some social skills, and some clout
Become rich and gain in knowledge
Without deeper meaning though, these perks will merely be façade, covering a drought
Today, I am that drought
It’s just that I don’t have a mirage for my desert in the form of looks, fame, or status
My face is consistently breaking out
Seeping through my flimsy skin apparatus
My aim is to acknowledge my scars, those fundamental flaws
Develop a sense of focus and purpose
If my young self were to see me now, would I be able to cover myself in gauze
Or would they see right through my bullshit, call it a circus