The Frozen Wasteland

This is the time when I constantly remind myself not to be slaved under the chainings of love, that my identify matters as much as anything else. Because often not, I have been copying so many things that I am but a mere doppelganger to everything, especially the other. I need to establish my voice, subsumed for so long under everything 'normal', because I am anything but.

I need my cloak around me, yet my cloak must be my feature, my voice. I am not the other. I will not be subjected to the tyrannies of 'normalcy', to rules, to expectations, and of utmost, I am who I am, despite not knowing who I am actually. I need to be comfortable in my own skin.

My quaser remains, my every move forward is to make it happen. Damnation to those who stands in my way. The Mage shall control his destiny, not the other way. For too long have I been subjected to the damning rituals of my own contrivance, and it shall no longer be so. I am the Mage. Everything must be controlled. I shall not be held sway to the irrationalities of emotions. The Frozen Wasteland must reign in its place.