When you were youthful, it was your lighter lighting your way through the society you were forced to exist in, yet every lighter runs out eventually. You could just buy a new one or cling to the old one, swearing it will light once more if you could just get more fuel, yet you already burnt up everything that made the lighter work; it was now just a shell of itself, as are you. Your heart, once full of hope and excitement, is now empty, yearning for the fuel it needs to keep going, yet you will never find it again. The ones you mocked before you became are now the monster you so despised. Stop clinging; it will only hurt for a while, then you will feel nothing but emptiness, like your lighter. Pray to whatever you believe in that you will eventually find a store that carries lighters with more fuel. (I was super manic when writing this >.<)