He felt intense anxiety engulf him like a never-ending storm, tearing viciously through his thoughts. Every idea was a tornado
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He felt intense anxiety engulf him like a never-ending storm, tearing viciously through his thoughts. Every idea was a tornado of disarray that tore apart the thin layers of his calm. His heart was like a beast imprisoned within his chest, hammering against his ribs in a desperate attempt to break free. Anxiety wrapped itself around his throat, harsh and oppressive, choking out all vestige of peace. His hands trembled violently, fingers clenching and unclenching as if there were something, anything, he could cling to in this choppy storm of anxiety. His eyes were suddenly filled with a dizzying roller coaster of anxieties and concerns. Every breath he took felt like an effort to escape the crushing weight of life, as if the entire universe were pressing down on his shoulders. His mind was racing, fragments of ideas smashing into each other. He could not rationalize; it escaped him like sand through balled hands. He felt imprisoned by his growing fear, smothered by the walls of his own thoughts. His forehead was drenched in sweat, a frigid clamminess that made his spine tingle. It felt like the whole room was working against him, the air heavy and stifling and the temperature unbearably high. Every breath he took caused his chest to tighten, as though breathing itself was an enemy he could not see. He paced back and forth across the room, unable to find a place to settle down or a break from his thoughts' constant barrage. The surroundings vanished into a bewildering swirl, with hues and forms merging into a bewildering mist. There was a tangible sensation of approaching disaster, as if there were dire prophecies of terrible things to come. His thoughts whipped up vivid pictures of catastrophe, each one more terrifying than the last, sending new shockwaves through him. He yearned to get away, to be freed from this unforgiving torture. However, there was nowhere to flee and no place to take cover. He was lost in a maze of anxiety and tension, imprisoned inside the labyrinth of his own mind. His panic continued to deepen, and time became meaningless. Moments dragged into forever, every second an eternity of suffering. His scream was a primordial cry of agony and despair, but all he got in return was the resounding quiet of his own fear. He was gripped with a vicious and unrelenting anger that seemed to be consuming him entirely. And he felt completely alone, irrevocably alone, in the middle of the storm.
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