Somedays, I feel my mind and body are not part of a whole. Recently I have woken up to it more and more, exhaustion sinking through my bones as I work. In this state, I fear as though I am no longer human but instead, a warzone.

The mind has always been a symbol of freedom. It pushes the boundaries of reality and is the center of thought. My mind has always been reckless, dancing flighty through new ideas without a care in the world. It has always wanted to grasp what the world could offer, see the threads of thought and sound come together to weave the tapestry of discovery. Like the great waters of the Agean, it fizzles and fights, creating a wavy ocean of thought.

The body has always given stability, rooting itself in the soft soil of the Earth. My body keeps me grounded. It keeps me safe. Yet even then it holds the secrets only it has privy to, the ability to create. After all, it was the hands of Prometheus that moulded the first people from the mud. My body is the medium between thought and action, as the rigidity it carries is balanced out to the most flexible thing on Earth, construction.

Chained to my desk as both my mind and my body strain to continue to work, I watch myself get set to smoke, burning away my core until there is nothing left. Both parts of me have been in gridlock as they fight for control over what to do. My mind claws to continue as my body screams for a break. Pushing and pulling, they use all that they can to fight in this battle until both are battered and bruised. There may not have been swords or spears, no songs to be sung by the muses, yet the losses remain the same. In this battle, there is no winner.

I truly am my own Trojan war.