The whirlwind is a storm; the real whirlwind is the frenzy in your mind. It hates you, yet it needs your attention. It craves solace, yet it demands to be in crowds. It wants simplicity, but the bling is what it needs. Leave me alone, it says, yet it shall cling to you till you suffocate. Will desire the charm of a normal life, yet hate the boredom and banality, will rise in ecstasy, will fall in melancholy, will push you till insanity gnaws your mind, yet you shall remain sane and never cease to hope for a better moment. You shall yearn to fit in, but break free once you do, and shall never wish to fit in again. You shall look for inspiration in everyday things, but it shall come to you when you stop looking. You shall fail, and fail again, and crazy fail till you can fail no more. Your emotions shall be jarring and writings incoherent, the battle between your two sides, oh so evident. The whirlwind shall come and go, you shall hope and un-hope, you shall toil and un-toil, you shall focus and digress, you shall wither and bloom, you shall laze and perspire. And one day you will allow, you will give yourself that once real chance, you shall tell the craze to take over your mind, run in your veins and beat in your heart. The craze will leave you sleepless, awkward, insane, but normal in your own crazy way. That shall be the life you have always dreamed of, the crazy maddening, strong, ecstatic life.