The Trials of Pilate

There is a weakness that shoots through my core. There is nothing left within me that can support my thoughts and my feelings. But somehow, there is a thin wall that still keeps everything enclosed. Small holes exist, and drifts escape from time to time. They're minuscule, a seamless in steady conversation. However, the fear still remains of whether this wild sea of thought, brewing and boiling within my skull, will burn through these holes of frustration and flow upon unsuspecting bystander. Or worse, the person who will understand the pain. I tend to underestimate myself. I have a low self-regard, and in time we will see exactly how reality plays out. I trust that despite my judgment my thoughts will stay my own, and the world shall return to its equilibrium.