The problem with being your own, is it's very lonely.
You seem to be looking all around, searching for something.
Meanwhile everyone is seemingly unaware that you are, in fact, staring.
Everything hurts too, it seems.
Like a terrible wave of uncertainty, then following a desperate attempt at reassurance.
This is what it's like to truly be your own.
And how unfortunate it is to feel this way, when it's all you've ever wanted.
Because you finally have it.
Perhaps it wasn't exactly what you had in mind, and now you're disappointed in yourself.
You just wish it would stop.
But it doesn't.
This perpetual darkness burrowing into your mind.
Becoming a part of your character, your being.
And then you are your own.