I prefer to keep myself sorrowful and gloomy by giving my happiness to the gliding breeze. I like to let my endeavors falter and fail by tripping over my last step of accomplishments, abandoning titles by forgetting the roster of my skills.

At the critical moment when you are depending on me, I rather cry like a newborn, in witness of the awesome stature, strength, and fame of strangers

I prefer to offer love to the one who will steal and disappear, leaving me empty and searching again, to give again, that which I don?t have, better than tasting love every day and feeling unworthy of its every drop.

I prefer not to possess, not to give just experience your curses and nasty condemnations as I stretch my arm begging for acceptance and mercy purposeless, passionless, aimless, clueless!

I prefer ?