Progress.

It's a horrifying thing, progress. On one hand, it's a representation of how far you've gone and how far you've yet to go. However, It's also worthless in the long run. Some people... can do it right. How?
  Something strange about progress... It's like water. You give water to a flower, and allow it growth. You repeat this until your flower is gigantic. Until giving it water would give you but an inch of progress until it has been fully bloomed.
  Then it becomes satisfying. Seeing the flower grow. Seeing all the progress. Letting everyone know how far you're going. How well you're doing. Until it becomes a mystery as to how you lived before it all began. Until it's late outside and you're still watering it despite the lack of sun. Until you grow tired of sitting there, watering a flower that will never reach full bloom.
  But then, why continue? You're so close to the end. There's no need to spend so much time watering it anymore. You come back once a day, to once a week, to once a month, letting it slowly wilt there. It's already beautiful, nobody will care. They will look at your progress in awe, wanting to see what else you will create. But with a finished flower, they will take a glance, and leave. Congrats. You finished growing it. Now move on. There's nothing else for you.
  That's what I've encountered, anyways. So why do I continue growing them? Struggling to grow them. Never getting anything out of it. If I get more praise by bringing a flower halfway, then to hell with all the progress.
  Cut the flowers. Right at the center. Kill them all. Then plant more, using the seeds you scavenged from the old ones. Give it progress. Let it grow halfway. Once the progress slows, once you grow tired of the shade or hue, cut it down. Grow another. Until the soil is ruined. Until you're actually seen. Until maybe, just maybe, it’ll be seen as different from the rest.

They grow tired. They grow bored. They look at your progress. Your display. By now progress is everything. Progress is the water. Progress is the flower. Progress is the sun. Progress is the ground. But if progress is everywhere, why would they focus on yours? What makes yours different?
  All these flowers. They are nothing compared to the flowers grown by everyone else. Yet, most look the same. Most look worse. And they get all the attention. Is it what you grew? Or is it yourself? 
  You're not interesting. You're not likable. Is that what's wrong? You ask everyone you know if they dislike you. They say that they don't. But they're lying. they despise you. You can hear the boredom in their voice as you show them your flowers. Your progress. Why are you still continuing to grow them? This fake praise. All these lies. If anyone showed you how they really felt, your flower's pot would break. Words are like rocks. Your mental strength is the pot. They throw rocks at your pot. It eventually shatters, and your flower is prepared to fall. 
  But the flower isn't real. It's something completely different. Nor is the pot. Or the words. If the pot is actually your mental strength, then it cannot hold up the flower. Then who destroys the flower? It's you. You do it. You are real. Words can't destroy a flower. What they can do is manipulate you to do it.
  You grow another flower. You have no pot.

You don't give it water.

You stomp it out.