Tornado of Souls

Yet again I find myself on hand and foot, much too willing to be a servant. A pawn patiently awaiting the arrival of something. Someone. A personality that's been made into a cult. One built by nothing but my delusions and my desires. None of this was by the will of anyone but me. I did this to myself, for myself. It's in no way their fault it backfired. It's in no way their fault I feel this way. I am destroying myself, for what? Can something truly have any less reasoning? Why do I do this to myself? Why have I dedicated myself to this? I've been patient. I've been willing. I've been understanding. I need this reassurance. I need them like I need air. It's childish, asinine even. Why willingly do any of this to me? I ask myself these questions every day, day in, day out, yet I know. I know the answers to the questions, and I don't. I feel like a tornado of souls, all fighting and clashing for control of the same body. My body. I can't control myself; I don't even know if I am myself anymore. I can't grasp who, or what I am. I yearn for childhood innocence, the same kind I so carelessly threw away. I can't rationalize anything now. The hardest thing I've ever done is learn to stop thinking.