off my chest... out of my brain.. straight from my fingers

At this moment, I am so full.. so many thoughts run through my head, through my body and my pit is so tight.. my stomach that is... my chest is well alive.. i feel the chill, embodiying my to speak.. my body is unraveling it self.. within it self.. as it is itself.. i'm breaking through molds and barriers of personal constraints that which, were, indeed defining me and now i am perserving nothing because i am nothing more than my own expereinces and these experiences have worth, no matter how many times my inner demons tell me that i ain't worth shyt.. worthless.. nothing and noone is worthless we all have worth.. i am in this ball of confusion lost in what exactly is my worth.. feeling as if i'm on the verge of a nervous breakdown and yet my fingers won't stop typing.. i am so full.. so full of life.. of torment.. of dreams.. of an ordeal that has become.. that is my life.. with all its barriers and hurt and pain... in all it's magnificent struggle.. i am weak and yet strong.. and on some level i am beautiful and yet and still i feel ugly.. i guess i am human.. beautifully or not.. but i am here.. and this wisdom,, this talent... this gift.. rolls from the wings of my stage with brillance... with regality.. with doubt and worries.. and tears and pain.. and also with a smile... i am.. i am? i am? what am i? who have i become and why do i constantly ask myself the same questions.. time after time year after year.. doctor after doctor.. perhaps its offficial i am insane.. the shrink said i was ok.. that i .. that this is my method.. but why do i doubt this.. why is it hard for me to believe in anything and yet and stil i urn and i burn inside because i feel empty and alone and afraid.. and i'm.. i've learned to be defensive. so i don't get hurt and yet and still i am hurt.. i am not protected.. i am unable to protect myself because i am my own volatility... i am vunerable i am strong.. i am wicked.. i am brave.. i am so many things yet nothing.. i am searching for the guest.. kabir says this... "break ur ropes while u are alive.. do u think ghost will do it after".. why are my ropes still connected or am i simply hanging myself slowly.. so many questions.. so many answers.. so much doubt.. and self loathing.. and worth and yet no worth.. true contradiction.. where does one go for sanity.. is it fire, or trees, or wine... or beer.. or sex.. or being raped.. molested.. digested that has me fucked up.. cause i feel... i feel? i feeellll... i fucking feeeeeeeeellllll