Ian

calculatingcharismaticcomplex

Power is a drug – it's addicting. No matter how much you have, it's not enough.

It never will be.

Your first taste of it is sweet, and it leaves you craving more. And more. And more. And even when you reach that point where you told yourself it would be enough, you are not satisfied. Once you have tasted it, there is almost no hope of going back. The more you have, the more you need.

I know what it's like. I was raised in a world surrounded by people like this. In truth, I don't actually know many who aren't. Maybe that's why I became like them. It was expected of me. They trained me to love power more than anything else. They told me to do anything, absolutely anything, for it. And I did.

I experienced that thirst for power just as my ancestors had done before me. I was no exception. I understand that inexplicable craving for more. That doesn't mean I like it, however. Because, just as I am an addict of power, I am also its victim. I have witnessed the ones closest to me become monsters in the name of power. My family has been torn apart, and it has left me questioning everything that they ever taught me.

I believed what they said. After all, what else was there to believe? All the great people I knew, the ones I aspired to be like, told me the exact same thing. But look where it got them.

I'm not quite sure what to believe anymore. I know what is supposed to be "right," but there are still too many shades of grey. The lies that I once believed so readily still mingle with the truths I have yet to find. But that is still not my biggest problem, the greatest obstacle to overcome. While I have come to realize how ugly the love of power can be, it has not changed me.

I am still an addict.

I still love power too much; its grasp over me is still too strong. I don't want it to be this way, I don't want to stay like this, but there is no miraculous cure to rid me of this affliction. I want to change, and I'm trying, but it will take time. I will not wake up one beautiful, sunny morning to find myself completely free of this ball in chains that holds me down.

Do I blame anyone for my problems? I suppose I do, simply because I can't stand the thought of being at fault for my own imperfections, but whoever's fault it is, whether power or my parents, I have to deal with it. I am the one left to clean up the mess. Every day will be a struggle to be free of myself and the influence of those I once looked up to, but I am determined not to give up. A Kabra never quits, even if they aren't quite as invincible as I once thought, and I refuse to be the first. Because, whatever the cost, I am determined of one thing.

I will break free.

XoXoX

Take into account that this would be an inner musing. Ian would never admit this out loud.