I Am An Act and I Am Pathetic

(I've been moving away from the "Mike style" and been trying to do more stream work)

I don't know what the point of life is. Nobody does, really. I figure, if you're going to live life, live it comfortably. If something will alter your comfort positively, make it so. If anything causes you discomfort, cut it out.
I thought that's how things worked. My world was black and white until I found out that the same thing that made me comfortable, could make me as uncomfortable as I've ever been. So much discomfort in an absent look. So much discomfort in the nothingness and the hate behind words, masking the love.
That's another thing: Masks. Why? Why the fuck do people need them? People want to be themselves, yet want to be protected and in the end, neither of those things happen. Nobody discovers who they are on their own. To discover yourself, you need someone. You need people and you need to be unprotected.
In the end, the mask is a barrier, a mere distraction and basically grants the procrastination of getting to know yourself. That's what they do.
(I know I'm right, shut the fuck up.)
I use them all the time. I've given up on them and people don't know how to react. Every important person in my life has turned their backs on me. I am still expected to be happy. I am expected to be the person who brightens everybody's day.
(Fuck you. You don't know me.)
What happens when I need my day brightened? What happens when I spend my time thinking about how to make things right again, how to make things happy again? Where will you be when things go wrong?
That's what that song is about really. I wrote that song when I was feeling similar to now, only to a lesser extent. When Things Go Wrong was my first ever song and it was about being alone because someone you trusted turned on you and there is nothing you can do or say to make it better. I put myself down and apologize.
(I see no apologies necessary, to be honest.)
Why do I put myself down? Easily and simply answered: I hate myself. It's too late for me. That's right. It's too late. I play with minds. I had to. It's to defend myself. Raised in a home where everything is discouraged, I learned to control people underhandedly. I gave that up recently because I couldn't stand myself.
(Yeah, I could have whatever I want. I could... but not genuinely.)
Now that my world is crumbling (quickly, I might add), I have no real person to turn to (aside from myself. She knows who she is.)
That's why I stopped playing that song. I never really wanted to know where "you" would be when things went wrong. Maybe because I never thought things could go as wrong as they have now.
It's costing me everything and all I have left is an act.
An act that is (apparently) loved and appreciated,
But an act that rips me to shreds whenever it is applauded or encouraged.

Then comes a realization. I am not someone to "settle" for. I am amazing in the sense that every fiber of my being cares, if not permenantly, then in the moment. I invest every bit of who I am, because I give myself away.

But how can a man be happy if he has nothing left?
Does he become a creator? Does he become the exact opposite of what he believes in? Does he crumble? Does he become empowered? Does he dwell on that past? Does he escape? Does he flee?

Does he matter?
No.
He does not.
He is nothing,
Nothing until he is reunited with the ones he has given himself to.