Was bin ich?

I look back, it's al blurry. Important life events are buried in filth and covered in shallow, glittery unimportant memories. I can't walk back, it's too messy, embarassing, dirty and sticky. I'd like to think we are always embarassed of who we were in the past, but I'm pretty sure I'm just embarassed of who I was/am (?)

I'm upset because of such stupid reasons I should hit my head against a wall. Everything you thought you were, you're not; every single positive adjective you take for granted, is not there. Oh you, what a shame, so much self-pity we could swim in it, fuck, it fucking stinks. 

I wanted to be so many things, so many different, interesting, stunning, smart as fuck, badass women. Oh such great dreams, so much wasted potential, so self-centered, so full of crap and dirt and garbage and fat and worms and dust and blood and guts and hair and stupidity and selfishness.

You filthy little whore. You have so much more than you deserve. You meaty shit.

I know who you are, but what am I?