He was on the edge of the cliff, just about to jump. He did not know why. Or maybe he did. He did not want to. Or maybe he did. But actually it did not matter because either way, he was dying. His mind was the killer.
Shackled mind had cramped him for space to breathe. His mind had no vent. And the worst (or the best) part was, the world had no clue about it. It was like he was floating alone in the middle of an ocean wearing a life jacket and the life jacket had a hair sized hole in it letting the air whisper away. With each moment, without a realizing, he would sink a little.
He had no reasons to be where he was or what he was feeling. He, in fact, had reasons to be repelled by anxiety and restrain. He had reasons to be free and flying. He knew what he had.
Still, the shackled mind was the greatest illusionist.
Photo Credit: geralt