Last night I was overcome with fear, fear of loss, fear of someone I love being hurt. The details of the situation are pointless, yet the curiosity remains: Why do I feel so completely helpless when I start to worry about someone?

In the dark of the predawn I sat on my couch, overcome with emotions I could hardly put words to. I paced my apartment, stood staring from my porch out into the night. Wondering and helpless to do anything about the feelings and the situation I was in.

At what point do our emotions become the enemy of reason? How is it that we can fall victim so easily to the wash of electro chemical soup that is our body? At what time in the ancient past did man give up his ability to control the vessel of his soul?


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