You are driven by your purpose to be more, to change lives, to be established, to be rich. But you are blinded.

You are blinded by what you chase after, that you can't see. You are stabbing them, over and over again, your loved ones, of course, your family.

You have abandoned them in pursuit of something, something that's not dead and something that could go dead. Why?

Your wife? Do you still look at her the way you did when you first wooed her? 

Even with age and time, why has your love melted away? You fight, you scream, you yell, forgetting that we hear. We aren't deaf. You have created a world in your head to block out all you do. Why? You slap her when it gets hard, and at night, she dresses up well to cover your mess, of course. We can't have the people talking, right? Then you buy her fine shoes, wigs, a few trips, and then the cycle starts, too quick, that the nice moments seem like a twinkle of an eye.

Elvis, you are proud of him, of course. You shouldn't be when you contributed nothing to his life. You couldn't be a father to him, but he fulfilled your dreams while remaining empty. He is a living corpse, of course, and he is forced to bear the weight and cover your shame. He wasn't taught how to love, so he cannot love. I am scared for him because the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. He comes over to care for mummy, a woman who would take your shenanigans, and Elvis, who would clean it. Ooh, what a poor soul.

My heart breaks for Magnus. Why wouldn't you leave him be? Why try to make him what he is not, your son? Why is he at the receiving end of the stick? Magnus is tired. Leave him be. He is only a boy who was forced to be a man. His father couldn't hold his hand through life. Everything he learned, he learned it through his friends or through... So why then are you hard on him? Of course, he smokes and he drinks, and he parties wild. Why wouldn't he? Is there any life for him at home? But he is a good soul. I know because he is my brother. But you are ruining and forcing him to leave, leave all of us. I fear for his life sometimes. He is home to see what you do. He is home to hear what you say. So why then do you fear, when drugs are his safe escape? Mr. Man, leave him be.

And there is me! What do we say about me? I find fragments of you in people that I be with. I tried to escape from you that I end up in worse places. Don't do this, don't go there, blah blah blah. That's all I have heard my freaking life!! And when I did them, what did you do? You punished me, "in Love". If hate is a word, I feel it strongly for you. And one day I would leave your house and have my kids, where I would raise them in Love. I would raise them in the best environment ever, and you would never get to meet them.

What would happen to you when you grow old and all this money gets full? What would happen to the money when all your kids are hustling so hard at a young age to leave you and your house? What would happen to you when you are eighty and there is no one in sight?

What would happen? I fear you would grow old and die, a very lonely and hard death. And maybe, I would not feel bad.