Why do I care so much about this I?

I try to explain this I. I try to defend this I.

I am always talking to this I.



I talk so much about this I, I am the hype man for this I.

I is going to do great things. I is going to give you hope.



I is the greatest. I is terrible.



I hates itself. I is disgusted with itself.

Why does I feel so separate from myself?



Why does I have to be this thing—

this perfect thing, this pure thing?

Why is I not what I am?

Why is I so distant?



Why can't I become I?

Why can't I forget I?

Why is I still here?



Why is I not who I am?



Why can't I just be?

  
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