Sometimes, I feel like the best metaphor for my mind is owning a fish tank.
The dirtier the tank is, the more scrambled the mind is. The past will haunt me, future dreams, my mistakes, and all those things that keep me turning in the night. The algae won't seem to ever go away no matter how hard you scrub. When you finally get the tank clean, it only stays that way for a week, then the algae returns. Those thoughts filter through again as you claw your way out of the dread.
Yet somehow, despite it all, the fish's tail is radiant, its gils are healthy, and fins are untouched by rot. That, is the soul that is trapped inside. The part of you that you never show to anyone yet somehow continues to survive against all odds.
