Just who are you?
You say you want to be rich and famous
But why?
Because you want to rub it in the faces of those who betrayed you—humiliated you?
The ones who said you couldn’t? The ones that didn’t support you?

You say you long to be someone else, someone… perfect
To be that fictional character inside you that’s longing to be real
But trying to be someone else is a waste of who you are
Of what you were meant to be
You say what you are is a waste

Well, of course you’d say that
The person you long to be has it all!
But one can have it all, but have nothing in the end
You say, "It’s not the fall that kills you, but the sudden stop at the end."
And you know you’d do anything for the thrill

Now, here’s the thing
You—the real you—truly does have potential, which makes it even harder
You see your goals—even pure strangers can see!
But that’s not enough…
Now is it?

Saying is not doing
Not even close
You’re not shy, just simply over thinking every action
And to the rest of the world that comes off as a bit “awkward”
You say that practice makes perfect—the more you “fake” the more real it will become

But here’s a curveball
Are you trying to be all “popular” now because it’s truly your dream?
Or because you’ve had a past of being rejected?
Do you truly long to be famous?
Or just to prove something to yourself—
Or better yet, prove something to those who made you hate yourself—
Hate yourself to the point that you’d completely change yourself?

You say that’s the old you—there’s no need to bring that up
Oh so you admit it? You have changed!
Oh, well, that was besides the fact anyway

Look, you have wings, but unlike most, you are not scared to fly
But there’s always that little something holding you back

Maybe it’s the one…feature about you that labels you
You’ve even considered moving far away to escape!
But it’s the same there too
Everywhere, quite frankly
Because that feature is you, and no matter what you do
It will always be there

You say "What are you talking about?"
You know
You know good and well
We all have that one little flaw we can’t erase

Maybe it’s something physical like a scar
Or something invisible, but sticks out like a dud among diamonds, like fear
But you say you’re going to be perfect, you’ll have no flaw!
But that means you have one now

A voice in your head says,
"See, I love mind games! I’m your ego!"

“Why?”

The same voice—
"I don’t know, maybe it’s because I’m constantly changing. Well, more like bending.
Because no matter how much you try to change I’ll just snap right back."

“Why are you doing this to me?”

"I am you—I am your ego after all, silly!
I could just say it’s all your fault, but that’d just be…mean of me."

See, you—you plan and you ponder, then you re-plan
How to be rich—famous—perfect!
For something so obtainable, yet so far

I watch you take the advice of others, your own common sense
Take what people want from you—what they expect from you
What the world wants from you, but can’t possibly give them
Only to find that nothing’s matching up

At all

The pressure—
The fight between who you are
What you think you are
What you’re meant to be
And what you’re supposed to be
You say nothing.
What? No clever come back?

It’s time to take a breath…
Step back for a moment

Forget ones who hold authority over you
Forget ones who control you
Forget your “flaws”
Forget this dream figure you long to be
Forget all the corruption in your society
Forget where you are
Forget your race
Forget what language you speak
Forget…
The world

Now
Just who are you, and what do you want?