metamorphosis

They are unstable.
I know, I feel.
Lately, everything is able to influence my thoughts, my actions.
I have always known that, in life, I would have had to fight, to fight for everything, and I soon accustomed to the idea of being a fighter, in the years refining my techniques in order not ever be defeated, leaving always triumphant from every battle I had to face.
Lately I feel unstable, as if I had left a part of me hidden somewhere that does not visit more, buried under the rubble of a black ash, which is to reclaim my soul, as it meanders in a volcano. Vain my attempts to eliminate it, so that our co-enforced no break ever.
Day after day, I am deprived of something, I am more and more away from that the unattainable goal that is happiness.
I see my reflection, smiling so misleading, and then someone scale a rock against the mirror, making it collapse into a thousand page.Complete but always a missing piece, someone has stolen a moment of distraction, which is appropriate for bringing down me too.
Ever since I began to define my being, someone tried to do so, trying in every way to rip my personality, often even my tastes, my preferences.
Copies and nothing but copies.
But increasing every day, and each of them because I am a state of malaise that can not ignore, and pieces of the mirror continue to disappear under my eyes interim. Deprivation stopped me, I fixed a majestic statue and enviable closed room most beautiful castle of a huge and fascinating, so high that only the terror strike vista.Un-fortified castle, with great difficulty that I managed to build around me.
A castle that is falling, despite the solid walls that surround it, despite the deep ditch that separated from the rest of the world, protecting it.
I should rejoice, should observe the debris and think of being free at last, the statue is returning to walk, their breath still run under the heavy armor, the uncertain pace, the painful limbs.
Instead collapse with him, every defense that I've created with suffering is now empty, useless, and vandals come to plunder my soul, the rooms of the castle, looking in the mirror room to steal even fragments, climbing up to the highest tower to watch the world from absolute masters and feel.
I have always said a sentence to find the courage to move forward, not to kill me by any difficulty: "Life is beautiful because it is pain."
I am afraid of having to correct, I fear that it could not be fair nor accurate.
The life and 'pain.
I just have to rebuild the castle, that the apathy now lost, and mobilize all the other statues to eliminate my enemies, looters to nothing but more painful is hell and eternal.
The flames devour every room, with them inside, but not destroy the walls or large screens.
The flames will be the new security and the castle will shine, rising once again after yet another impressive attack.