The last time these wheels were in motion, you were on a quest; a quest for simple joy. Myriad thoughts about the world and your significance in the scheme of bigger things were top most in your stack. Your raw understanding of the fundamentals of reclusion brewed a withdrawal beyond materialistic aversion - a consequence of chewing your mental gum for too long, and too fast. Sliding down an acute slope, you felt the world slip away. The Shylock inside you demanded his pound of flesh, not ready to be a victim of the others that made your being. You obliged, with a sincerity that you dared not meddle with. The path into normality was suddenly in front of you. Tugging at the rope, you felt human. Supporting and being supported at the same time, a semblance of emotion seeped in. New waters, unknown landscapes splashed onto your canvas. At first, there were colours, bright and beautiful. Then there were shades of grey. Like the onset of fuzzy logic into a binary system, your mind revolted. Change was evident and imminent - it was you against your mind all over again. The greys of the mind and the greys in the heart collided. A flurry of smoke ensued, leaving your mind victorious.
What started out as a process of redemption, has now left you more aware of yourself. Shylock is now dead. A cold mercenary resides in his stead. His sword weighs you down; the ground is sloping yet again, steeper into reclusion, deeper into void. Your mind plays captain again, steering an empty vessel now, which yearns for the open seas, and lonely serenity.
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