i hate ignorance in others, but more so in myself, i feel no compassion for the weak, yet expect it of others when i am not strong, i give nothing not out of selfishness but lack of anything to offer, love nothing and be loved by nothing, if only i could dream, make my imagination born of deceit reality, what do i want? what do i really want? when did i kill my desires, or were they smothered through countless circumstance. can memory be trusted, did i ever care, what went wrong, where did road fork, disjointed and haphazard thoughts are all that can be formed in this haze, am i hollow, i am void, am i empty, i am void