I’ve never been free in my whole life. Inside I’ve always chased myself. I’ve become intolerable to myself. I live in a lacerating duality. I’m seemingly free, but I’m a prisoner inside of me.
“If neither brass, nor marble, can withstand
The mortal force of Time’s destructive hand;
If mountains sink to vales, if cities die,
And less’ning rivers mourn their fountains dry;
When my old cassock, said a Welsh divine,
Is out at elbows, why should I repine?”
Jonathan Swift | “The Power of Time”