Stop

What's your value?
Is it that which is written on your payslip? Encrypted with black patterns.
Is it in in how high or low your chair is--
what part of the office you stay
the view from your window
the laughs you get any time of the day
the people you can turn to for random jokes or fantabulous recollections
Is it in the number of nice clothes you could pick from your closet even with your eyes closed
Or the level you park your car in
the length of comments you could give
amount of flak you could take without vomiting?
Is it in the number of people you could choose to ignore without having to feel bad about it--
Or in the number of people whose opinion you don't care to know
Is it in the number of metals or whatever material your plaques are made of
Or the length of your resume and the hefty adjectives people use to introduce you?
Is it in the number of people who loathe you and secretly wish they were you
Or in the number of likes you get from a random post, an unlikely picture, or a stupid thought?
Or in the number of people who miss you and wish you were still there
Who can't wait to see you again
And share stories of what could've beens and what-nots
The number of hugs you wished lingered longer
The time you spent thinking about nothings and being with the right ones and knowing you're spending it well
You know what it is. The moment you no longer have to ask how much you're worth, the skies will get clearer the clouds whiter. Your vision for things you should've seen long before and enjoyed much more will be matched only by your happiest memories. Stop asking.
Nobody cares. Nobody should.
Because those who truly know how much you're worth, don't care...but love you just as well.

Yeahhh

reality often isn't poignant or romantic. But it always has its way of taking your breath away even during those moments which you feel farthest from being picture-worthy or movie eligible. Nevertheless the exagerrated versions we see onscreen always add more reasons to view one's life differently and actively seek reasons why even if it's not from a book, it's worth a shitload (or however which way one seems apt to describe it) of awesome memories and a healthy amount of anticipation for great things one could make true.

Vaguely

And when the music stops you ask yourself with a resounding voice, albeit in your head. 'Was it worth it'?
When you stare at Someone in the face and see the nothingness that have become of what once blossomed magically in between you. You remember all the laughter that jingle-jangled like unabashed music in your ears. You forget the time you thought you wasted but now know were spent on bouts with mediocrity and that everyday battle with deadlines and routine. But though each night and some mornings that turned to nights you felt deeply depleted, sometimes defeated, you always knew you put up a good fight. But now you stare at him--part foe or comrade, a little of both; now fairly, a stranger. And you can't help but feel more than a twinge of pain where once your heart was.