Why do men fight? What do they fight for? Is it for the families and countries that they love? Do they even know what it means to love? Is it just to run away from the pain of all the failings that we cannot face? Is it a desperate cry to God to come and take away all that is in us and to leave us bare of all the turmoil of the world? Or is it truly for freedom that we fight? Is it truly for honor and love and justice? Is man really even able to tell? But what is a war? Is it the flailing of a country fighting to survive or simply greed for what we don't have and others do? Is there anything that is big enough to quench that thirst? Anything that tries to fill that vast void is simply swallowed and the search continues for the next big thing. So are we really looking for that thing that is big enough? That thing that can fill us? Is that why we fight? For truth, justice, greed, power, and the almighty stuff. It's kinda funny then that the very thing that we fight and die for is the thing that is so obvious if we simply stop and look. Look at the mountains, the colors in the sky, the tiny things that grow in the dirt, the humans themselves, as fallible as they are. It all screams the scream of a creator. I choose to call him God. I think that this crazy creator guy might be able to fill that void. I know that He can in me, because I felt it before. I let Him slip away because I was afraid that He would fill the void so much that He might just fill me until there was nothing left of me. That He might fail just like everything else I know. That He might crush me. Or even see my own failings. And so that is why I fought, and why I still fight. I fight to hide. To stay hidden from God, from people, from anyone that could notice I'm not perfect. Not even good. So it really is a fight for something bigger, but just not quite so observant. Unfortunately I know there isn't anything. So why do I still fight? Is it hope? Is that just a blatant disrespect for the word? Why can't I accept my crap? That I suck. That I can't do it. Not even a little? Is it really my dad? Is it really you? Have I always seen you as infallible to the point that I must be in order to even be worth being called your son? Or am I just trying to place the blame on shoulders that are seperate from mine? Am I really that selfish? The short answer is yes, but is that it? There's so much that I used to have. That I used to love about myself. Now I don't even care. I know I can't be good, so why do I even try? Why do I even fight? What's the point really? I know I was never good enough for my dad, so why should I be good enough for God? Why would you do something so idiotic as to accept me? The real me. Not the fake me fighting to be what I used to be, but the piece of crap me right now. You shouldn't have done that. I don't know if I believe in love big enough for that. I don't. Oh...