tired and flopping around

It has been a long time since the heat of the green and hopeful was still intensely ablaze. He did not know what the pain was like then, he was just too engrossed in his pipe dream. Much was grossly misinterpreted. Green, no doubt. Then came the deafening silences, and the merciless accelerations. The light of the truth beyond the pipes finally began sifting through the cracks he was once blind to. Yet, with a thoroughly proofread devotion, he clung on. Occasional misinterpretations plastered up, or more like hid the cracks again, waiting for the next impact. It came just as he was sprinting at full speed through the pipe, shattering the mediocre attempt at self-persuasion. 

He knew that his interests did not matter as much to him, so he chose selflessness. He tried to only appear when his services were requested, and hoped, though somewhat not very confidently, that he meant more than convenience. He tried not to think, for when he did the rift would open and threaten to tear him apart, but it was inevitable.