I am fragmented and conflicted by so many personalities competing for the use of my body. Sinners and saints are arguing. Forbidden lust and unconditional love. Divine and diabolical. Beatitude of paradise. Dark night of soul.
Each of these have staked a claim inside me, shouting over each other, causing endless trouble.
When I was born I did not have this war going on. I was not corrupted by concepts, but voices have appeared inside me saying yes and no, guilt and shame have been implanted and I have become stained with fear. The secret caverns and the dark cellars of my psyche are riddled with doubt and sorrow.
I have become a jail keeper of my shadow selves. I am the prisoner of my own jail tapping messages on the wall of my cell.
My shadows are embarassed and fearful. In the name of politeness and tact and knowing my place I have held on to negative energie. I have forgotten the instinct for release. I am a loaded battery of anger and resentment and frustration; I am a bomb. Bombs blow up and kill people. The explosion of shrapnel is the explosion of rage made manifest.
I must make peace with my shadows and myself, bringing this war to an end.
-from The Way Of The Wizard
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