Feelings. How they run through my head, how they burn
and boil in my mind. Once, I was able to control them. But now, I am unable. I
cry when I am emotionally disturbed, shedding tears over mere touching of
subjects I’ve described earlier. It feels unnatural, since I earlier, years
back, could control my feelings – at least perceptively, by either forcing
through anger – hatred – or feelings like sorrow – sadness and despair. Through
these feelings I was able to control my emotional state. I was, so to say,
“cold as a fish”, if I wanted to be so.

However, now I am not able to do the same trick. It is
as if the great Wall which kept these feelings stabile, the fundament of my
mental stability and the very thing which kept the Beast at bay, has been
broken into pieces, has been worn down. Did I write down how I felt that it was
the fault of the Beast that I am sick as I am? I believe so.

But where did I write it down? I can’t find it, can I?
Then I can write it down again.

I locked the Beast away. I locked it inside my own
prison, built the Wall around it, and hoped it’d die in there. Of course, it
didn’t. And with it, I locked away my feelings: My ability to feel happy
feelings, my ability to feel angry feelings. All I had was indifference.

In the meantime, the Beast were isolated.