a prisoner of his own thinking

Lohbado stood on a gravel mound in a vast rugged landscape exposed to violent north winds, which made it difficult for trees to grow. He watched a small dust cloud in the distance whirling across the uneven ground towards him. Particles spun around in the cloud. The sky darkened. His throat tightened. His heart pounded.

    He got hyper, too much thinking, mind out of control. Demons emerged from his mind and danced around. Drooling and laughing they stared at Lohbado. They communicated directly into his thought stream.

    You are a prisoner of your own thinking, they seemed to say. Why do you insist on speaking so much nonsense? On the other hand, it’s not important. No need to exaggerate. Just don't do anything you might regret.