Choice (More vent poetry?)

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(By the way! This poem is abt me as a fictionkin, and an age regressor! I also suck at poetry, so please bear with me!! Thank you!!!)

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Sometimes I don't know what choices to make.

So I ask for guidance from someone else's personal taste.

See, everything I do reflects

Who I am, and who I will be.

But I lie and play the part of 

Who they want me to be

Because I can't handle the weight 

Of my real victories.

I could've cried out loud

No fear of the others

But I'm so scared, so tired

Don't leave me,

No matter how much I Utter.

See, I chose likability

I chose fame

I discarded all the stuff

That made me feel shame

In myself, in others,

And who they wanted to see

Because no matter my choice,

It's not enough to be just me.

Because just me is boring

Just me is plain

It's rude, selfish, and full of raging flames

That need to be quieted

But only one person has done that.

I love him for him, and he doesn't know that.

He made a choice like me, 

And we live with it,

Because our real selfs were useless.

They were tiring, stupid,

Just overall, Inefficient.

Whether you make the same mistake

Or don't

I don't care.

Your past self will be useless.

The future.

The future will always be near.

And your choice to make is simply who you are.

Don't be like me. Go be You, Little rockstar.