What is it that im lookin for?

Damn. What is this void within that aches to be filled? So empty and hollowed out. For all my wit and intelligence that is all but eroded away by time and monotony. I still cry out. I can't wait to rip this straitjacket off me. I am screaming my lungs out. My mind is dead, gone is that verbose flair, gone is that vitality that lights within. I am a husk of my previous self. Why does it have to be this way? Akin to being lashed to the mast on a ship in the primal fury of the worst storm. Lashed by needles of rain, chilled by the wind that cuts to the bone. Why? Damn.