He thought, 'I am my enemy.' The pain and anger of reflection were visible on his face. His soul was in such turmoil, overwhelming feelings, with such naturalness, as if the time had come for him to go mad. He knew the source of the cause, his self-made destruction, but he was helpless and inspired because he had been a pressing slave for the last twenty years. He got up from his chair, where he had been setting frustrated after another failed attempt, before thinking. He was already aware of the concept of acknowledging, dealing with, and resolving, which he had acquired from strife in his previous endeavors.
He was again overwhelmed by his thoughts, though this is different from the current context. When he first, sitting in the chair after returning from work, he had nothing in mind, and he was looking vaguely out the window. Then suddenly, as if through some explosion, some bold thought came to his mind, in the wake of which his fragile threaded sensibility was swallowed up, which was by far his only saving grace, which was against the tyranny of his mind. So he fit the temptation and anger entirely and proceeded towards the window.
'It should be over; it can't go on,' he thought; he was also unable to see what was outside. He was genuinely amazed at the idea of how his source could be the originator of both the problem and the solution; This is indecent. Everything seemed strange to him; it seemed that his brain was divided into two parts because a contradiction worked for him like two different worlds. And in one of which he was accustomed, full of confusion and prediction, in the other Rarely visited and felt. He was completely unfamiliar with the place, even though he wanted to stay there. He went on to remind him of a time when he was there.
In his childhood, he would play slyly with his friends on the city streets and alleys, moving to abandoned places to play games that sometimes they did not understand.
Everything was fun, spending time with joy, and there were so many memories and so many things. His whole childhood was glorious. No, not just his childhood; there were other moments like this when he was more youthful. An argument based on misconceptions, without any thought and condemnation, made him weak in his own will, and he had a deep belief in his thoughts that it was all for responsibility, not just his fault. Instead, it was a trap in the maze of arguments where he was caught.
He felt discomfiting at this recollection and wanted to escape from it. But, he would never think of it, never. He tried to distract his thoughts from the memories with all his brain and courage, but he failed in his endeavors. He couldn't bear the pain, it seemed like his brain would explode in tiny parts at any moment now, and all would be over in one fell in shock, forever.
