What do I love?
Is it bluebirds? Maybe going to the park?
No. But I really like those things.
This country gives me an ethereal freedom, but it is not worth my life.
I shed my blood gladly for my wages but I want more.
Excitement comes to an end. I do not love repetition.
I consume my experiences and there is no reason to go back.
What would I give my life for: nothing.
Unless there is suffering - then I want out.
I love peace until I stop getting what is mine.
I suspect what you want from me, because I only see what I want from you.
I pine because I feel entitled.
I have disdain because I am blinded with pride.
So what do I love?
