I wonder why you're so fixated on my mistakes, maybe there's a hidden injury that still aches or maybe you're a patched up mess held together by way too many tapes. Fingers pointed at my every mistake, highlighting the errors I make as if you didn't do the same? Hating me is your hobby, can't say "it isn't", can't ignore my perks cause they're too brilliant. Thanks for the hobby commitment, thank you for making me more resilient. I'm just a guy, a passerby in your life, yet you stop in your tracks and bark hate but the question is, are you okay? Projecting insecurities on somebody else clearly means you're not that brave, you're the cause of your own decay. Your growing withering state is affecting other flowers as of late, now you tell me, is this okay? Honestly, are you okay? I just hope you'll bloom one day.