I’m the paradox you don’t want to admit you’re well aquainted with, yet you deny me.

A second shadow that doesn’t retract in the darkness, only becomes more powerful like the neverending rage of the storm.

I feed on the night and the blackness of your mind, with more corruptive power than any government that has ever been or ever will be- it is I who reign supreme.

Build your walls and build your barriers; they will never be high enough, nor strong enough to keep me out entirely. There are always cracks. I am more patient that water, more patient than time.

You go about your day masquerading happiness if you will, but my dear puppet, your strings are mine to pull- I have no intentions of releasing them.

I am vanity.

I am the blackness.

I am a God in my own right- a conundrum that drives you mad because you cannot find the answer.

I’m the paradox you don’t want to admit you’re well acquainted with.

 

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