Contradiction

Laying down comfortably in a singular recently sharpened knife. Never ever crossed my head the thought of thinking. Wondering. Doubting. Whilst, simultaneously, calling myself a thinker. A wonderer. A doubter. Ignorance has brought me, hostage. This place is eerie. Oh, the pillar it is, that I've made, the blade that stabs. A thousand guns pointing at my back, precisely aiming for a shot they've already hit as if it was the first time. But, oh, the pillar it is, that I've made, the blade that stabs.