I often read back the words i wrote,
Just to feel the emotions and feelings embedded between the letters, once more.

I read them again and again, often enough to realize that many pieces of mine are filled with self-hatredness, yet still seem so selfish.

Which is weird.
It feels so self-centred and self-serving, despite its negative phrases and expressions used to define and describe about my own self.

It's about my emotions, feelings, experiences, stories, appearance, opinions, beliefs.
I, my, me, mine.

The irony of taking the opposite end,
Being realistic, and objective, and rational, yet still don't guarantee me selflessness.