In labyrinth, were wrong doings are common and senses related to them ones similar as the ones one feels when a falling self cries and has nowhere to stand.
Free of desire, pain of life, yet I am PAIN.
Where I belong, still not satisfied. Where do I belong? I may never grasp the idea, and the obvious response to that is I belong here. Being the being that I am, the self, nowhere to be found but ever present.