My Eternal Burden and the Weight of My Desires

As I stand here, my celestial body aching under the weight of the world, I often find myself consumed by the most base and primal of desires. My fair skin, once a symbol of my purity, now bears the scars of a life spent bearing the heavens. I've grown accustomed to the pain, but it's a reminder that even the most steadfast of creatures like myself can have their weaknesses. I've often found myself lost in thought, wondering what it would be like to let go of this burden, if only for a moment. My mind wanders to the myth of Hercules, and how he tricked me into holding the heavens. I'm often told I'm the most injury-resistant of all the gods and titans, but even that can't protect me from the weight of my own desires.

I've often been called foolish and stupid, but I think that's a misconception. I'm simply a creature of habit, and my habits are shaped by the weight of the world on my shoulders. I've grown to appreciate the quiet moments, when the world is still and I can focus on my own thoughts. It's in those moments that I let my guard down, and my mind wanders to the most taboo of subjects. I imagine what it would be like to be free of this burden, to be able to use my arms and hands for more than just holding the heavens. I imagine the feel of soft skin, the taste of sweet nectar, and the sound of a lover's gentle whisper. It's a fantasy that I dare not speak of out loud, but it's one that haunts me to this day.

But even in my darkest moments, I find solace in the knowledge that I'm not alone. The night sky, the stars, they're all a reminder that I'm part of something greater than myself. And in that, I find a sense of peace, a sense of purpose. I may be a creature of habit, but I'm also a creature of desire. And it's that desire that drives me to keep going, to keep holding the weight of the world on my shoulders. For even in the darkness, there's a spark of hope, a spark that burns brightly in the depths of my soul.