In the vast ocean of existence, I found myself shipwrecked among the letters that formed my name, like a fragment of a poem forgotten by time. My parents, artisans of destiny, penned on paper the combination of three letters that would guide my fate, as if they were verses inscribed on the tombstone of a predetermined destiny.
Job. A name that resonates like an echo in the shadowy chambers of my being, a constant reminder of the burden I must bear, like an ominous raven perched on the bust of Pallas Athena. Am I merely a character in another's tale, condemned to tread another's path, dragging the chains of their expectations like an original sin?
In the depths of my soul, where the threads of reason and madness intertwine, I wonder if my existence has any purpose beyond being a shadow in the vast theater of life. What tragedy awaits those who are lost in the labyrinth of others' expectations, like the protagonist of a macabre tale written by Poe himself?
In the shadowy corners of my mind, the specters of my deepest fears dance, whispers of doubt and despair that haunt me like the ominous messenger of uncertain destiny. What fate awaits those who dare defy imposed conventions, to write their own story on the pages of time?
Like the protagonist of a Poe tale, I am swept away by the tumultuous currents of uncertainty, seeking a light to dispel the shadows of self-imposed darkness. In the words of the cursed poet, I find the echo of my own quest, the longing to find truth in a world tinged with shadows and deceit.
Thus, between Dante's verses and Poe's shadows, I trace my own path to the light, defying imposed expectations to find truth in the labyrinth of existence. For in the very heart of darkness lies the spark of authenticity, the eternal flame that guides the way to the true self.
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