Fide.

Hasn't been the easiest masking emotions. One min I'm so bent on feeling better with perseverance oozing from ever pore, and the next, I just wna shrink and wallow in self-pity. 

But...I shall, & I will be fine again.  

Vice.

Just a little more confused, than usual. 

Would you say it's greed to yearn to be successful in one way, to excel in another? Should I blame the society that morphed me, that whispered wealth is key. Or should I take it upon myself; that I am not content.

Is loneliness what I really prefer, or is the lack of people skills that forced my believe in solitude? 

Do I really miss you (maybe you even), or is it simply a case of attention craved? 

Confusion. Confusion. 

No, I can't really tell.